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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

How about some barbarian bakugo noncon?

Prelude - One time I came home from a walk and smelled this scent so freaking thick that I could taste it, and I almost threw up cause it smelled like skinning a deer but like, ten times worse?? and I was like lol that’s kinda weird and it turns out the neighbor had caught a skunk in a catch-and-release trap (which we gave him cause we didn’t want him catching a skunk in a trap that’d kill it) and apparently decided to kill it right then and there, and just let it by the edge of his property, right by my car. That was fun.

Anyways, Katsuki makes a big deal about reader looking different in this. You can take that any way you’d like. Personally, I was feeling insecure about my freckles (I have so many that my skin almost looks even-toned because they almost all touch rip) and my hair color/odd face so I wrote him liking that reader looked different. It’s not super deep lol

Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader X slight Izuku Midoriya

Warnings - NSFW, dubcon, noncon, voyerisum, exhibistionism, blood mention lol. Idk groping?

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4FeWr4OsidcJClBjUEBHWI?si=OPHwLWXrTsiNQ42SlMKLEg

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There is a point where you stop screaming.

A point when you realize that no one is coming to save you, that you’re wasting your breath, that it’s fruitless. Does nothing more than raw your throat and grate against your own ears.

It’s no use. The Barbarian King seems unaffected, perhaps even spurred on by your ear-splitting screams. There’s no reason to scream anymore - it’d be impossible to scream forever.

——

Village in flames, corpses littering the streets. You’d heard about the stench of death from books, from traveling warriors who stop in your village for a night, regaling the people with tales of heroics and strength. It smelled quite different from what you had imagined though.

Metallic, yes, but tangy, thick enough for you to taste the iron seeping into the ground. Raw, like the scent of the butcher’s shop, heavy and suffocating - you hadn’t been able to breathe.

Everything had happened so fast, too fast. People were dead, people were dying, people were killing and being killed. You had been running, trying to escape the stifling aroma of your village being drained, the barbarians running amok through the streets leeching out it’s lifeblood.

Then you had been falling, tripped up by a loose limb on the ground, a body still warm and rattling with it’s last breaths. Shocked by the vivid image of the gore underneath you, a man reaching for his severed arm, you hadn’t been able to catch yourself as you fell, a cry leaving your lips.

Darkness.

And then light as you slowly blinked to awareness, slumped on the ground. A line of prisoners, prizes from the raid. You were one of them, hands bound to your neck, ankles tied to the people on either side of you. Two men had come by after a while, a green haired man in dress similar to your own - perhaps a captured man from the village?

The other man was bare chested, as many of the barbarians were, gold and red paint swirled across his skin in intricate, sharp patterns. He looked fearsome, and he barked at the green haired man accompanying him who scribbled furiously onto paper at each utterance of the fearsome blonde man.

They seemed to be going down the lengthy line of prisoners, assigning them? Selecting them for something? You didn’t know, couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were numb, sealed off from the horrific event you had just experienced, safe within your cocoon of forced apathy.

And then the two men were in front of you, the blonde man silent as he stared you down, the green haired man with his pen poised, though he studied you also.

But they quickly moved on, the barbarian barking something at his companion, before striding to the next prisoner.

You had been untied from your fellow captives, led through the barbarian camp. Red tents, warm fires and laughter filled the space, bare-chested warriors of both genders celebrating their recent victory.

The large red tent you had been led to was warm, a fire crackling in the deep pit in the center, silky furs softening the harshness of the ground. There was a table in front of the fire, a large basin filled with water nearby, close to the fire. A desk in the corner, near the tent flap, and a folding screen hiding the back of the tent from view.

Promptly tied to the leg of a table, you were left alone, the woman who had dragged you here leaving before you could ask what was happening.

Shortly, green hair popped through the tent flap, quickly followed by the rest of the man from earlier, the one dressed like your people.

“Izuku Midoriya!” He had introduced himself, giving a little flourish as he bowed, before being pushed aside as the fearsome blonde from before entered the tent.

Still tied to the leg of the table, numb to the world, you merely stared at the ground when the two men approached.

“What’s your name?” The green haired man - Izuku - asked.

He was met with a blank stare.

The blonde man growled at your lack of answer, spitting something in his native tongue, words you didn’t understand. Izuku seemed to shrink, before turning to address you again.

“Please tell us your name. Kacchan is not the most patient man.”

The fearsome man beside him bared his teeth towards you, and you shrank back. He did not seem the type of person who tolerated being left waiting.

“(Y/N)….” You whispered, eyes falling to the ground.

“(Y/N), ah! Such an interesting name, the first part means-“ Izuku was cut off from his ramble with a shove from the blond man - Kacchan - who crouched down in front of you, rolling your name around his tongue.

Turning, he spoke to Izuku in the same jumbled language, who listened, then addressed you as Kacchan turned back to study you again.

“Kacchan would like to know uhm, uuh.....” Izuku trailed off, uncertain eyes flickering between you and the blonde.

Kacchan scoffed, listening to Izuku’s hesitancy with disdain, saying something directed at the younger man, yet Kacchan’s eyes were fixed on you the entire time. It was intimidating.

“He uh, wants to know ifyou’reavirgin.”

Oh god.

Even though the man’s words were rushed, you understood, limbs beginning to shake. You were going to be violated.

A finger poking your calf made you jump, the blonde man leering at you, head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised as if to say “Well?”

You shook your head - lovers had existed in your life, not many, but you still cherished each one deeply, thought back on the experiences you shared fondly.

When relayed this information, the blonde man seemed to grin even wider, rising to his feet. “This will be easier then, no need to go slow.”

With a gasp, you lifted your gaze, wide eyes taking in the man hovering above you. His words were completely forgotten as you took in the shock of understanding his words. He spoke your tongue? Wasn’t he using an interpreter? Why-?

The confusion must be apparent on your face, because Kacchan scoffed, turning to stride to the table, taking a seat facing the fire.

“It pays to play dumb.”

“Loose lipped locals give information more freely when they assume that Kacchan can’t understand them.” Izuku beamed, crouching down in the Barbarian’s previous place to begin untying the rope binding your hands and feet to the table leg.

“Stand up for me please.”

You did as Izuku asked, shakily rising to your feet with a helping hand from Izuku on your arm. He began leading you towards the basin nearby, Kacchan watching the two of you with sharp eyes.

“Do you need help with the fastenings?” Giving Izuku a confused look, your eyes fell to the basin, to the fire, to Kacchan seated at the table. Were they going…. Were they going to boil you alive? Eat you?

Trembling even harder now, it was only Izuku’s surprisingly strong grip on your arm that kept you upright, knees giving out beneath you.

“Help her out, she’s damn near useless.” Kacchan’s strong voice cut through the air, the air that seemed too thick, the air that was choking you, throat closing up.

What does one even do in this situation? Do you beg for your life? Scream for help? Who would come? Accept your inevitable fate?

There was no time to make a decision, however, because Izuku’s nimble fingers were pulling at the fastening of your dress, quickly unlacing it.

You were numb again, fingers leaden, legs heavy, mind fuzzy and listless. Izuku peeled down the top of your dress, and you barely thought to cover yourself - you’d be dead in minutes anyways, what did it matter?

Still, your hands rose to your breasts, shielding them from view involuntarily. Kacchan snorted from his sweat, but said nothing.

When you were completely bare, an arm over your chest, a hand over your sex, Izuku ushered you towards the basin, prompting you to step into it.

This was it, you were going to die.

One last shot of fear raced up your spine, and you turned to the green haired man by your side, his hand falling away from the small of your back. “Please, please don��t kill me, I don’t know what I did but please spare my life. Please, I’m sorry.” Tears were burning your vision, throat choked up with thickness.

Kacchan burst into laughter. “I’m not gonna kill you, the fuck?! Goddamn, your people call us barbarians yet you’re afraid of a bath, fucking hypocrites.” There was a mirthful glint in his eyes when you looked at him, the man leaning back in his chair, arms resting behind his head as he relaxed.

Izuku chuckled also, putting his hand on your lower back again, gently pushing you towards the basin. “You’ll be okay, it’s just some warm water. It’s close to the fire because we don’t want you to catch a chill. You know, the human body actually operates best when it’s within the temperatures of-“

“Deku, shut your trap before I come kick your ass, just get the girl into the water, you dumb fuck.”

The water was warm, and it felt pleasant against your skin, just on the right side of too warm, hot enough to have you relaxing your shoulders as you sank down lower, the liquid covering you up to your neck.

Izuku-Deku? Held your hair out of the way, quickly using a scoop to wet down the strands before rubbing some kind of herbal scrub through your scalp, cleaning out the dirt and debris that had gathered during the raid. You were certain you were absolutely filthy, covered in mud and small scraps, half of your side crusted with dried blood and muck from falling in the bloody street.

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at your earlier panic, silly and like a stupid child, thinking that they were going to boil and eat you. It was clear now what their intent had been, but riddled with fear your thoughts had been clouded and slow.

Fear was still present, rolling through your brain in waves, goosebumps rising from your flesh as you tried to hypothesize what was going to happen to you. From their earlier questioning, you had a faint idea, but you couldn’t bear to think about that outcome, didn’t know if you could tolerate it.

Instead, you let the warm water soothe your body, washing away the grime and dust. Izuku’s hands were gentle in your hair, as he massaged your scalp, as he rinsed out the soap. You tried to ignore how his breath hitched whenever you shifted - you couldn’t keep all of your body covered, no matter how you positioned yourself.

His hands disappeared from your hair, instead prompting your to sit up straight so he could scrub at your body with a cloth smelling of the herbal soap.

It felt weird, and goosebumps arose on your skin as strange hands touched your body. You closed your eyes and endured, for there was nothing else that could be done.

Running would be a bad idea - a naked woman sprinting through the barbarian camp would surely be caught and violated, or brought back to this tent for some twisted punishment. And you could only run if you managed to get past the two men, who ere watching you like hawks, and much, much stronger than you.

Izuku’s hands paused briefly at your chest, eyes flickering over to the blonde man, who nodded in permission. Then Izuku’s hand were running the cloth across your breasts, washing them in gentle circular motions, taking care to not scrub too hard or push too deep.

You bit your tongue as you waited for it to be over.

And it was soon, at least that part. Then the green haired man was instructing you up on your knees, facing him. Telling you to grab onto his shoulder (the man was also kneeling) and spread your legs apart.

Trembling limbs obeyed, face flushing bright red as you followed his commands, eyes squeezing shut so you wouldn’t have to look at his own flushed face.

He ran the cloth down your back, over your ass, then slipped it between your legs to wash your sex with easy swipes of the cloth. The man’s breathing picked up subtly, and you could tell, leaning up against him as you were. His hands wandered, the cloth moving slower and slower upon your cunt, almost stroking at your folds, his fingers pressing through the cloth.

“Oi, Deku! Keep your shitty hands to yourself, you’re supposed to be washing her up, not feeling her up, shitbrain.” Kacchan barked, slamming his fist down against the table to get Izuku’s attention.

Both you and the man in front of you jumped, Izuku immediately blushing the deepest red you’d ever seen, flashing the blonde an apologetic look and you a nervous smile, before he seemed to gather himself, continuing to dutifully cleanse your nether regions.

It was awkward for the both of you, feeling his hands run over your private areas, over your sex, through your ass cheeks. But then he was down, rinsing you off with scoops of warm water before fetching a large towel, ushering you out of the basin, holding out the towel to wrap around your body when you stepped out.

Then you were ushered closer to the fire, sat upon a small stool as you huddled close to the warmth, clutching the towel tightly around you. The air was quite warmer than outside, but was still cold to your wet skin.

Izuku began running his fingers through your hair, parting knots, patting sections dry with a corner of the towel. By the time he was finished, you felt warm again, face rosy from the heat of the fire.

The heat felt pleasant, like the feeling of a full belly after a long day.

You were tired, exhausted from the emotional weight you had endured. Village burned, tripping over corpses and disembodied limbs, taken captive, forced away from your fellow villagers. Stripped down and fondled - at this point, you just wanted to sleep.

To sleep and sleep, wake up and have this all be a bad dream. Some twisted nightmare your mind conjured up while in the warmth and safety of your own home.

A large hand upon your shoulder roused you from your half-asleep state, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the quietness of the tent. You jumped, turning to find Kacchan towering over you and Izuku both.

Kacchan crouched, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your hair, then onto your cheek. “You look so fuckin’ weird.”

Izuku sputtered. “Oh my god, what he means to say, is that we’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re… quite unique, and very um, attractive.”

You leaned away from the hand on your cheek, and Kacchan let you, red eyes blinking slowly as they scanned your features. He was an odd man, as was Izuku. There was an obvious dynamic of power, Izuku submitting to Kacchan willingly.

“Alright, you’re dry enough, get up.” You blinked at Kacchan, processing his words, before he huffed out a breath, rising to his own feet. “C’mon, let’s go, are you stupid? Get the fuck up.”

You scrambled to your feet, towel still wrapped tightly around your body, preserving your modesty.

Kacchan’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you along with him as he strode towards the back of the tent, towards the sectioned screen acting as a wall.

“Deku, make your ass useful and dump out the bathwater, will ya?”

You weren’t able to see Izuku move due to the hand forcing your head forward, but you could hear his footsteps as he hurried to do what Kacchan instructed.

Rounding the screen, it was clear to see that this was where the Barbarian King slept, a pile of cozy-looking furs strewn in a pile on the ground.

You were promptly shoved towards them, stumbling down to your knees as you lost your balance. The furs provided cushion though, soft and inviting.

But you were scared again.

It was happening, it was going to happen, you were going to raped by the King.

Turning back towards the man, you began to plead, hands securing the towel around your shoulders like a safety blanket. “Sir, please, don’t do this, why me? You can have anyone, not me, please not me.”

He ignored you in favor of beginning to strip, unfastening his cloak, removing his weapons. You decided to try and appeal using a more personal approach.

“Kacchan-“

Suddenly the man was in your face, his own visage twisted into a growl.

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that. Stupid ass Deku made that shit up when we were kids, I’m not some brat anymore. I’m Katsuki-“ He backed away from you, leaving you trembling. “-Barbarian King.”

The man resumed removing his clothes, dropping his belt to the ground, grumbling as he began to undo his pants. “Should beat his fuckin’ ass for calling me that, so goddamn disrespectful. Fuck him, stupid little ass wipe twerp-“

You tuned him out, frozen. What could you do? Another impasse where your options were none.

A strong hand gripped your shoulder, or more accurately, your towel, tugging it forcefully away from you.

“No!” You cried, trying to pull it back, to cover yourself, but the man was stronger, ripping it away before you could utter another word.

“No! Stop, please!” You tried again, finally taking in Kacc-Katsuki before you. He was naked now, aside from the paint decorating his skin. His cock was quickly hardening, plumping up with each step he took towards you as you scrambled backwards.

“Katsuk-Katsuki, I’m begging you, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything! Please just have someone else!” You sobbed, back finally meeting the wall of the tent.

Katsuki smirked, crouching down just out of your reach. “You’ll do anything? You’ll let my horde use you as a toy then?”

Dread flowed through your already fear-filled body, and you gulped thickly, eyes closing.

“No?”

Shaking your head, you started to cry silently, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re already doing fucking anything.” Katsuki growled, hand shooting out to grab your ankle, dragging you down and towards him.

A high-pitched cry left you as he pulled you under him, until he was hovering over you, grinning. “Cry all you want, ain’t gonna change a damn thing. In fact-“ He surged down, until his forehead touched your own, red eyes blazing “-It just turns me on more.”

The man pulled away, a hand falling heavily around your throat, giving a compulsory squeeze before hie started moving his hand downwards, fingers skimming across your flesh.

Immediately, your own hands caught his own, trying to still their journey as they neared your breasts. Katsuki paused, a sound akin to a growl falling from his throat as his eyes flickered away from your body and up to your own eyes.

There was a threat there, a warning. Let him touch, or else. Trembling, you removed your hands, instead grabbing at the furs you rested upon. Katsuki made a gruff sound of approval, before resuming his exploration of your body.

“You’re like nothing I’vs ever seen before, know that? Like some fuckin’ alien or something, but damn, you’re gorgeous. Didn’t even know someone could look like this.” He mused, entranced as he watched his hands splay over your body, pinching at your skin, caressing your breasts, slipping over your stomach and down between your legs.

“Oh god, pleaseee-“ You sobbed out, cringing as a finger trailed down your slit.

Katsuki stilled, quirking a brow as he smiled meanly. “Please what? You wanna cum?”

“Please stop…” You whispered, eyes clenching shut again as he found your clit, giving it a few quick rubs.

The man scoffed, before quickly teasing one of his fingers into your tight hole. “Tough shit, I’ve never had whatever the fuck you are, I ain’t stopping”

His finger burned, dry and too large, and you struggled to keep from clenching down upon it in discomfort, trying to force out the intrusion. This would go easier if you relaxed, if you let him have his way. You knew that, rationally, but it was hard to make you body obey.

Katsuki prepped you quickly, fingering you open until he deemed you ready, withdrawing his fingers and crudely wiping them off upon your thigh. You twitched away at the wetness, at your own slick being cleaned off on your skin, but Katsuki ignored you.

“Why do you look like this anyway? What the fuck happened?” Katsuki asked coarsely, shuffling off of your thighs, moving to lounge by your side, studying you.

The man seemed to be taking a break, more interested in your looks than fucking you, but you were glad for the reprieve, trying to wipe tears from your face as you struggled to think of a response.

“I-I don’t know?” You finally spoke, genuinely at a loss for how to explain your appearance.

Katsuki studied you with sharp eyes, a hand reaching down to his cock, beginning to absent-mildly pump himself while he looked you over.

“I’ve traveled through every shitty little village in the north, met with the damn piss-baby tribes of the east, I’ve ransacked the towns of spoiled nobles, and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.”

You sat up, subtly shuffling away from the Barbarian King while you shrugged, at a loss.

Your appearance wasn’t anything superiorly unusual, but apparently it piqued Katsuki’s interest. Yes, your skin was perhaps a bit different, but it’s not like you were inhuman.

Katuski seemed to get tired of talking though, settling further back into the furs, getting himself comfortable as he jerked himself off. You refused to look between his legs.

“Alright, whatever. Get up here.”

Pausing, you looked at him incredulously. Did he mean on his lap? His chest? You didn’t want to be anywhere near him - wouldn’t he find more pleasure with someone who was willing?

“Are you fucking deaf? C’mon, up.” He growled, patting his thigh, urging you over.

A gulp before you started moving, limbs heavy and hesitant, unwilling as you slowly crawled forward, towards the intimidating, impatient blonde.

You straddled his thighs unsteadily, swinging your leg over, trying to avoid touching his cock.

Unfortunately, despite your best efforts, you caught sight of it, the red tip, the precum making his length shine, the wrinkly, darker skin of his balls, his blond pubes.

You cringed, distaste evident upon your face, and you heard Katsuki chuckle darkly before his hands grabbed your hips, dragging you forward.

“What, don’t fucking like what you see? Am I not to your taste? I’ve fucked whorebag princesses less fussy than you. Get over yourself.” He spat, before taking a hand off your hip, reaching underneath you to line himself up as his other hand kept you lifted.

You trembled in his hold, twitching and swaying to the side, but this was unavoidable.

A gasp left your lips as he entered you, tip slipping through your folds, teasing into your wet hole, stretching you out.

Katsuki let out a groan, slowly dropping you down until he could remove his hand from his cock, returning it to your hip, guiding you to push further down. You felt disgusting, his cock sliding against your velvety insides, dirtying your walls with leaking precum.

When your sit bones rested against his upper thighs, his cock resting fully inside you, it felt impossible to breathe, your chest rising to draw in air but failing, the distress you felt upon being speared open seemingly too much for your body to handle.

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight. You got a dirty little cunt, don’t you? Feels fucking amazing.” Katsuki groaned, moving his hips minutely, relishing the grip your inside had on his cock, how warm you were around him.

“Ride me, will you? I’m getting bored down here.” He snapped after a moment, delivering a harsh slap to your rear to emphasize his words, spurring you into tentative action.

Problem is, you didn’t want to.

Your palms rested against his heated chest, eyes raising to the ceiling as your cheeks burned. This was embarrassing, you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be an active participant in your violation. What would that make you?

“Oi, princess - I don’t got all night.“ Katsuki growled, landing a significantly more-jarring hit to rear, hard enough to make you squeak and jump, hips twitching at the sensation of his cock moving around your pussy at the movement.

Afraid of more forceful repercussions, you started to move, slowly sliding up, then down, creeping along, hoping it’d be enough to satisfy the man.

It wasn’t.

Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, before tightening his hold on your hips, planting his feet in the furs, then plunging into you with force. The sudden movement jostled you, and you fell forward with a cry, head bouncing onto Katsuki’s chest by your hands, the man groaning as he found a satisfactory rhythm.

“There we go, that’s fuckin’ nice.”

You cried into his chest, hands clutched into fists as you were bounced up and down, the led slap of skin too loud and jarring in the tent. The paint on Katsuki’s body was beginning to smear, sweat dampening his skin and letting the paint drip onto the ground, transfer to your own skin.

It was starting to feel good, make your stomach tighten, limbs tremble with pleasure instead of fear, and you hated it.

Slick sounds reached your ears, out of rhythm with Katsuki’s quick prods. It was wet, pulsing, as if someone-

Gasping breaths reached your ears, not from the man grunting beneath you.

Another round of cold fear dampened your arousal as you honed in on the sound, realizing it was coming from the other side of the screen.

Someone was on the other side of the screen, listening in to the Barbarian King taking you against your will.

A stuttered cry left you when Katsuki pushed too hard, hitting your sweet spot, making you clench and shudder, forgetting about the other person for a second.

But they were so loud, little gasps and moans, and the shlick, shlick, shlick, was getting faster and faster, it was impossible to ignore.

Should you try to tell Katsuki? Would he stop? Would he be mad? It was so disturbing, knowing someone was sitting on the other side of the screen, jerking themselves off so obviously .

“Katsuki-Katsuki wait, oh-“ You started, quickly cut off by a series of battering thrusts against your sweet spot.

But you had to try again. “Wait, sto-o-op, wa-unh, unh, Katsuki pl-mmh!”

“Shut up, I don’t fucking care.” The man snapped, out of breath.

“But there’s-oh…. Katsuki there’s someo-“

“I don’t /fucking care/.” Katsuki reiterated, gritting his teeth. He shut you up with another perfectly placed push against your sweet spot, and a cruel spank against your already-stinging ass.

“Ow!” You yelped, clenching up. It was clear now, that Katsuki was aware of the listener, he just didn’t mind. Maybe he got off on it, knowing someone was listening to him take apart his latest conquest.

Clenching up was the wrong response, because the Barbarian King swore, before his hips sped up, bouncing you so violently on his lap that you found it hard to breath, barely able to hang on for the ride.

“Oh…. (Y/N)….” The voice behind the screen moaned lowly, almost whispering.

It was Izuku.

You shivered, at the sound, feeling creeped out with the knowledge that the gentle, timid “interpreter” was listening. He must have returned at some point from dumping out the basin. You were feeling revolted by this entire situation, disgusted with Katsuki, Izuku, and most importantly with yourself.

Pleasure was building quickly in your stomach, zapping up into your chest, making you tingle and shake with the sensations assaulting your body.

“Sit back, fucking sit back-“ Katsuki panted, pushing at one of your shoulders to push you up, so he could see you as he fucked up into you, watch your body move, your face contorting in pleasure.

You felt like you couldn’t help it, your eyes closing, mouth falling open to let out girlish, high-pitched moans.

Your breasts were being jostled, jiggling up and down with the movement of your body, and it hurt. Hands moved to hold them, stopping their bouncing, but Katsuki appreciated the view apparently, because he groaned, pushing his head back while still trying to watch you.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Keep touching yourself princess, keep moaning like a little slut. Let Deku know how fucking good I’m making you feel.”

Your body didn’t give you a choice, noises being pushed from your throat involuntarily as Katsuki pounded into you, red eyes trained on your frame, intense and unwavering.

An orgasm ripped through you, seemingly out of nowhere despite the steady buildup of it the past few minutes. You gasped, breathing catching in your throat, hips furiously grinding down against Katsuki’s as you rode it out, trying to stimulate your clit to intensify the feeling.

The noises leaving you were perverted; wet gasps, little squeaks and long moans as you fucked yourself onto Katsuki’s cock, previous hesitance forgotten in preference of chasing your pleasure.

Katsuki swore underneath you again, rabbiting his hips up into you in response, breathing raggedly as he neared his own release.

You were so lost in feeling the sensations in your own body, you didn’t register the stuttered groans on the other side of the screen, the speedy clicking of Izuku jerking himself through his own orgasm, the almost-silent spatter of his cum hitting the screen.

Katsuki swore once more, a vehement “Shit, shit!” before he pulled out quickly, orgasm apparently catching him by surprise, the first few warm strings of cum shooting into your warm cunt, adding to the wet mess of your own orgasm.

The rest was aimed onto the puffy lips of your slit, one of Katsuki’s hands leaving your hips to pump his cock as he gasped, hips twitching upward at the sudden temperature change from your burning heat to the air of the tent.

Then there was just the sound of three people breathing heavily, completely spent, sweaty and dirtied from sex.

Katsuki pulled you down onto his chest, chuckling breathlessly as he brought his clean hand to your head, ruffling your hair tiredly.

“Well, you’re a goddamn catch, pussy’s like a fuckin’ vice.” The crude comment made your cheeks color, but as exhausted as you were, you couldn’t find the energy to offer a rebuttal.

“I think you’re gonna stick around for a while.” Katsuki mused, and you felt your heart drop. “Yeah, you’re a keeper. Maybe if fuckface over there-“ The blond slapped at the screen “-can stop being a pervert, we could actually fuck without feeling creeped out.” He growled, although the blonde didn’t sound irritated in the least.

A small “Sorry Kacchan” was whispered from the other side of the screen, and Katsuki laughed dryly.

“Tell you what bastard, maybe I’ll let you touch her a bit.” Katsuki said, a hand creeping down to knead at your ass. “Then you don’t have to act like a little freak. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you fuck her if you do good translating those maps we found. Got it, you little shitnugget?”

“Mm, alright Kacchan.” Came the tired response.

You were barely awake, already drifting off on Katsuki’s warm chest, too preoccupied with the red and gold paint no doubt smearing against your cheek than with the conversation going on around you.

You could panic about that later.

#fun skunk story #srsly the air was so thicc #it made my eyes water and my stomach cramp #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #barbarian #barbarian katsuki #barbarian bakugou #tw dubcon #tw noncon #dark bakugou #kidnapping #captive #blood #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere

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teklarn · 3 years

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𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katuski bakugou x gn!reader

a/n : y’all this was gonna be for kirishima bc i love possessive kiri but like it works so well with bakugou. first part will be from third pov, following parts will be from second pov (reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3)

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention.

genre: uhh idk a lil bit teeny-weeny dash of angst i guess

warnings: mild cursing, possessive bakugou, mutual pining, jealousy, aged-up to third year, possessive y/n, love triangle (square?), implied manga spoilers but not directly stated, tiny bitta tokage slander (sorry lol), slow burn romance (like SLOWWW SLOW BURN), lowkey enemies to lovers, like a lotta tension between bakugou and y/n

word count: 3k

UNEDITED w/ minimal or no typos. i shoved it into grammarly’s ass and prayed for the best okay

here’s pt 2 loves <3

- - -

y/n was used to picking and their skin, irritated at the girls fawning over bakugou. they were always on the sidelines, watching from afar, jealousy warping their heart. could these stupid girls not see that bakugou didn’t even care for their attention?

this time it was setsuna tokage who was begging for his eyes on her. y/n assumed it started in their first year when they’d been put against one another when the classes still had a clashing rivalry. (they still did, much more tame now, however.)

she leaned forwards, tugging on his short sleeve. bakugou’s uniform jacket was slung over one shoulder. he’d lost a lot of his angry demeanor from when he was younger, however it was easy to tell when he was pissed. it was inevitable he wasn’t going to lose his temper entirely.

it was easy to ignore the girls—most of the time, at least. what was ticking y/n off the most was the fact that bakugou didn’t seem pissed at all. his face was neutral, almost like the perfect mirror of todoroki on a daily basis. his eyes were not fired up in his usual ‘get the hell off of me’ manner. he was relaxed.

it didn’t seem like he reciprocated tokage’s feelings, however he wasn’t doing anything to get her off him and it was pissing y/n off to no end.

her sensuous lips were pushed into a slight pucker as she spoke, arching her back in a manner that made it appear much more provocative than she probably intended.

bakugou stood there, eyes flicking from her grasp on his sleeve and back up to her eyes. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, only kept looking her up and down. not in a romantic way, of course. right?

y/n scoffed at themselves. they swallowed the lump in their throat, shoving down the pinging envy in their chest with it. why wasn’t he reacting?

heat rushed to y/n’s cheeks. why do i care?

tokage was nearing his face. she didn’t have any intent to press her lips to his, which y/n was more than glad for.

y/n had come to the conclusion they had feelings for the explosive boy weeks ago. perhaps they always had, but now that they were fully conscious of them... gosh, it was frustrating.

“you’re staring again.”

y/n turned to see kirishima, the only other person who knew about their feelings for bakugou. he’d lost the twinkle in his eyes after first year. he’d picked up a dominating sneer and a withering glare reserved for anyone who desired to cross his friends. everyone at UA had after what went down. it was a shock most of them survived anything.

“so?” y/n snapped, shoving their hands away and kicking a pebble before them. kirishima and y/n continued their walk through the courtyard.

“so it makes you look creepy.”

“no, it doesn’t. he didn’t even notice me.”

kirishima snapped his fingers. “partially my point here. that’s bakugou katsuki, you really think he’s going to notice you?”

“excuse me?”

kirishima pursed his lips, twiddling his thumbs. “i didn’t mean it like that, y/n. it’s just...well, he has so much to work for.”

y/n raised a brow, questioning his nervous antics.

he continued. “bakugou works hard. probably the hardest worker in UA aside from midoriya. and it’s bakugou. he doesn’t really see a point in relationships. you know that.”

“it’s not like i’m looking for anything with him, though. gosh, kirishima, you’re acting like this is some school girl crush.”

he tilted his head, giving y/n a look that screamed, are you really sure it’s not though?

y/n huffed out a breath, crossing their arms. they’d already vomited up their feelings, why all of a sudden call it a crush? sure, it was a tiny crush that was no larger than the brain of a dinosaur.

“i can swear that it isn’t, kirishima. you’re looking too deep into things,” y/n defended once again.

the red-head held his hands up in surrender, sucking his lips in to avoid another snarky comment slipping out.

the two looked up at the towering building that had been home to them for the past three years: Heights Alliance.

during their second year, the teachers had settled with having the dorms set up in a way that allowed the students’ rooms to be set up in a gender-neutral fashion. they’d been able to select new dorms beside whomever they wished. rooming next to kirishima was a blast, but the only person bakugou wanted to room next to was him.

mina had moved in next to you, and kaminari to her right, and sero right across from y/n.

y/n had no issue being squished between a group notorious for their goofiness and ability to never take anything seriously, however (especially on weekends) they were exceptionally loud to the point they were sure China could hear the blaring music.

friday was finally going to be over in a few hours. y/n felt a giddiness well up inside them, anticipating the weekend. it’d been a rough few days, for everyone, not just them.

class 1A had been bombarded with assignments and pop quizzes. y/n was lucky they finished it all in class. some of the homework was finished when they’d sacrificed their precious free time to get it done, but in the end, it was worth it all.

y/n let their bag sag down their arms as they entered Heights Alliance.

bakugou had just been asked out on a date. for the third time. first time, he’d denied. second time, he had to shove tokage off him. third time, he’d calmly accepted her offer, and she’d skipped away with more than a smile.

she’d squeezed his bicep, gave him a wink and an unnecessary peck on the cheek that bakugou had wiped off the moment she turned her back. he was now in his bathroom and, despite her not wearing any lipstick, he was scrubbing his cheek raw so that the skin was a blotchy red.

the date was tonight, and he found himself wanting to go, and questioning why he accepted in the first place.

bakugou forgot about tokage the second he won that match his first year and tossed her in the cage. he only noticed her when she and her group of friends giggled and passed by. (it was mostly her chortling, but whatever.)

he continued rubbing his cheek aggressively with a scratchy towel. he was repulsed by how he had stood there without bothering to snap at her to leave him alone for the third time.

instead, bakugou’s mind had buffered, and if he was in a video game, he had surely glitched. he should probably just tell tokage he didn’t want to go anymore. in fact, he never wanted to go in the first place and wants to jump out his window and escape.

it was almost comedic. the thought of him going out on a date? goodness, he wanted to throw up.

as he continued scrubbing the cloth along his cheek, bakugou found himself more than grateful for how much his quirk made him sweat. if it wasn’t for the nitroglycerin-like substance he produced, his skin would be scratched and dried up.

a knock sounded at his door. silence came, until the knock found its way to his ears. a set of three knocks, then five, then it was a needy banging.

whoever was on the other side heard his audible groan and shuffling feet dragging across the floor, because they knocked a lot harder.

he swung the door open, hinges crying out.

bakugou’s upper lip curled in disgust. tokage twirled her hair around a finger, eyelashes sticking together with mascara. “katsuki,’ she greeted.

his eyes narrowed on her. “don’t call me that.”

“what should I be calling you, then? baby? or honey?”

oh yes, bakugou wanted to vomit. what even was her name again? whatever, it didn’t matter. “lizard teeth, listen. i-”

“lizard teeth? why would you address me like that?”

“because i don’t know your damn name, alright? i don’t-”

“tokage. need me to spell it out for you?”

“no. shut up. i need to-”

“you should remember it, because i was one of the few who got in through recommendations, remember?”

“and yet here you are in class 1B. can you shut the hell up now?”

“well, you’re just being shitty.”

“why are you here, tokage.” more of a demand than a question, as bakugou’s questions always came across if he ever bothered to ask them.

“because, for our date tonight, I need to pick up some things and I really hope you’re up for coming with me.”

“no.”

“please?”

“no. stop pushing. and I don’t want to-”

“come on, grouchy.” tokage activated her quirk, one scale slipping into his dorm and pushing him towards her. she gripped the collar of his shirt and grinned. “come with me for a short bit, and I’ll count that as our date, m’kay?”

bakugou opened his mouth once more to protest, but tokage silenced him by pressing one slender finger to his lips.

“I’m fully aware you don’t want to go on this date with me.”

he relaxed, shoulders slumping. if bakugou was younger, if he was even just a little bit more stubborn as he had been before, perhaps he’d be out of this mess already, or never in it in the first place.

tokage let her hand fall back to her side—both of them. the scale returned to her lower calf; the jet-black leggings she wore now had a perfect hole in them.

“do you think i’m dense, bakugou?”

“then why ask me out?” bakugou felt himself leaning back.

“because if i can get under the skin of that stupid little...what do you like to call them? stupid little extras? yeah, that stupid extra who can’t stop fluttering googly-eyes at you every minute, then i’ll be perfectly content.”

“who the hell are you talking about?”

“alright, so you are oblivious.” tokage took a step back and crossed her arms. “are you both unaware of how you’ve both been pining for each other’s attention? y/n, that classmate of yours.”

“...y/n?”

“do you know their name or do i have to describe in excruciating detail what they look like?”

“no, no i know who you’re talking about. but you’ve got to be shitting me, alright? there’s nothing there.”

“i’m from 1B, and if there’s something going on in 1A, monoma is going to tell us.”

“shithead, get out of my face.”

“you still have to go out with me.”

“why the f-”

“because, bakugou. if you don’t, i’ll be sure to make sure y/n knows about your feelings, whether they’re real or not.”

“why would they care? more importantly, why would you care?”

y/n kicked their feet up and down, a lollipop in their left hand, phone in their other. kirishima was in his bathroom while y/n was playing a game on their phone. they’d stashed away a bunch of candy back in their dorm and had snatched a handful for the two of them to share while hanging out in kirishima’s.

he was currently combing a hand through his hair, and then proceeded to rummage through his cabinets.

kirishima emerged with his lips puckered. “want to come to the drug mart with me?” he stuck a thumb to his door.

“what for?” y/n didn’t take a glance away from their phone.

“this.” he chuckled softly. when y/n looked up, kirishima had two fingers parting his hair. the roots were a jet black, just growing long enough to become the slightest bit visible.

“you’re going to fry your hair.” they were already shoving their phone away and tossing their sucker into the trash bin.

“it’s a monthly tradition to do this, y/n. it would be fried by now if i was bad at it,” he joked, tapping his roots once more.

y/n laughed alongside him as they exited the room.

it was late, and the lights made everything feel like it was set in a world of backrooms. when the rest of the world is sleeping, it is more than quiet, and nothing feels real―possibly in the best ways.

kirishima scratched at his chin, staring intensely at the hair-dye boxes lined neatly on the shelf before them.

y/n tapped their foot, not out of impatience, but because of the creep staring at them through the aisle. yes, through.

between the boxes of hair dye and scattered makeup products, the beady eyes of setsuna tokage could be seen. she smirked when she tugged her hostage closer.

bakugou’s height had shot up to around six feet in the past two years, so all that was visible was his chest and the black sweatshirt loosely hanging off it, however his grumbling and stream of colorful language was unmistakable. it was him.

“you okay?”

y/n’s head snapped to their friend. “what?”

“you seem on edge. is something wrong?”

“nothing. nothing is wrong.”

“you sure? if you need to talk, i’m here.”

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. don’t worry.”

“alright.” kirishima held up a box, wiggling it in one hand. “got it.” he gave y/n a toothy grin.

“good.” y/n snatched his arm up and dragged him along.

“woah,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle, tugging his arm back. “what’s got you in a hurry?”

“nothing,” y/n said, shrugging. “just wanna get home.”

gosh, kirishima knew them too well. his eyes squinted just a bit, and there was that playful grin lingering on his lips, just ghosting over his face, barely visible to anyone who didn’t know him. instead of pointing out the obvious, which was standing just a few aisles behind, kirishima decided to play around. “goodness, honey, the kids are going to be fine back home.”

heat raced to y/n’s face. “what?”

kirishima winked. “it’s nice that you care about them, but care about me a little, would’ya? i miss you, too,” he said a tad louder.

this caught bakugou’s attention. his eyes clashed with y/n’s, and he didn’t look away until y/n did. even a few seconds after, y/n still felt the blaring heat of his gaze upon them.

kirishima slung an arm around his friend, enjoying their flustered image. of course, he would never even think about pushing boundaries. the thought never crossed his mind, but he knew they’d let him know if they were uncomfortable.

when y/n looked back as kirishima led them away, bakugou’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were alight with jealousy.

of course, y/n didn’t notice the emotion flaring.

tokage smirked, clutching his loose sleeve.

y/n looked back to their friend, and kirishima flashed them another knowing smile. bakugou was getting antsy with his best friends’ hands all over y/n. well, not all over, but a tap on the shoulder was enough.

despite the way kirishima’s face dropped, y/n swiped his arm away and wandered over to tokage a bit more angrily than intended. they glanced up to bakugou, who was reaching up to retrieve something for tokage.

“what brings you guys here? didn’t expect to see you.” inside, y/n was screaming. gosh, their heart was angry.

“just running errands together.”

bakugou? going for errands? with tokage?

“cool, cool,” y/n said, nodding. “i was doing the same with kirishima.” they paused, awkward silence filling the space.

impatient as ever, bakugou tossed the item into tokage’s basket and clicked his tongue.

y/n didn’t know why. why were they being so stubborn? despite their protesting thoughts and their entire body screaming to hold back, y/n wrapped their fingers around bakugou’s wrist.

“actually, bakugou, i have something to ask you. i need your opinion on it. you’re smart, right?” y/n’s voice lifted at the end. although they couldn’t see the, what the hell are you doing face kirishima was making behind them as subtly as possible, they could definitely feel the glare burning into their back.

“tch, of course i’m smart, shithead.”

“good.”

“we’re actually kind of in a rush,” tokage spat out, snappier than usual.

“do you think i fight okay? i need someone with a perspective like yours to know if i do.”

“what kind of question is that, dumbass? i don’t care if you can fight well or not, just so long as i can beat the shit outta ya.”

tokage let out a low growl.

y/n smirked, hand still around bakugou’s wrist. “i’d like to know if i can beat you, then, so you can tell me if i’m good or not.”

ohgoshohgoshohgosh where was this coming from?

bakugou squinted. he leaned in closer, like he didn’t hear them. “speak up.”

y/n knew he heard them correctly, but he got awfully close.

feeling a little sneaky themselves, y/n ghosted their fingers over his strong jaw, tilting his head closer so they could speak clearly into his ear. “let’s train together,” y/n said, staring tokage dead in the eyes.

it was a stupid rivalry, really. they’d both been accepted through recommendations. they’d been friends all throughout middle school, and yet when y/n made it into 1A, tokage felt it a necessity to excel at everything and rub it in their face. no way was y/n letting them get away with this.

“i want to see how strong i am.” y/n let their voice drop just a bit. “you’re strong, right?”

“are you taunting me?” bakugou said, voice nearly a whisper. he still hadn’t moved from leaning down and hadn’t bothered to move y/n’s fingertips from his jaw.

“absolutely not.” y/n sent a small grin in the direction of their rival. “let’s just see who can beat who. we’ve never been against one another like this.”

tokage huffed, tugging bakugou back. his eyes were softened when they met y/n’s, and there was simmering, small grin on his face.

tokage, however, looked less intrigued. “he’s not your boyfriend.”

y/n shrugged, already backing away. they spread their arms in a mockery of surrender. “he’s not yours, either.”

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junova · 3 years

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.˚✦ ๋࣭ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

my universe

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

notes: this one has been in my drafts....forever. never really liked it too much but fuck it. maybe i can redeem it in a part 2??? this is more of a prologue if anything. idk we'll see. happy reading!

pairing: modern!steve rogers x reader, former!bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x natasha romanoff

concept: bucky was all you'd ever cared about, wanting him more than anyone. until he comes along, showing what it actually means to love someone. welcome to heaven in hiding.

warnings: 18+, sexual content, jealous!reader, bucky being a dick, soft!steve, heavy angst, steve is a funny lil shit at the end

wc: 3.9k

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt unbearable to be here. Watching how fondly she still looked at him, after all this time, not missing a beat. It was suffocating, surrounding you by a sea of water and having no other option than to drown. Greedily, his love swallowing you up in your entirety.

He did really try to dodge her looks of longing but still, even now he felt the pull to her. It didn’t really matter how long they were absent from each others’ lives.

As you sat next to him, you could feel him slipping from your grasp. Far beyond your control, way out of your depth, he was falling. Deep down, you couldn’t really blame him. The pictures you’d seen of her did no justice, she was truly a vision. Much brighter than you would ever glow and it made you wonder if what he spoke just a few hours ago still held meaning.

Not to mention, she seemed to be as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. Making you grow even more envious of her.

Sure, she had broken his heart but it wasn’t beyond forgiveness. She had simply put herself before the relationship and if you had been in her shoes you could imagine yourself doing the same. All she wanted was a better future for herself, at least it’s what he had told you.

Now sitting here you couldn’t stop thinking about how she looked at him with admiration and love laced in her eyes. Truly, if she still wanted him in her arms there was nothing stopping her.

Surely, not you. You two seemed to live on two different planes of beauty and hers was the kind you dream of having but only have a very little probability of obtaining. With her ruby hair and glossy lips, tempting nearly everyone around her to the way she carried herself and spoke to you like you were the only person she was invested in.

It wasn’t difficult to see why he spoke of her so much. You would, too.

You tried to enjoy the wonderfully prepared meal Pepper and Tony had made, well mainly Pepper. It was delicious, but your senses had gone bitter and it had nothing to do with the food.

You weren’t sure when you started to drift off, maybe it was when Bucky began looking at Natasha like she hung each and every constellation in the sky. Or maybe it’s when you heard her melodic laugh when Bucky delivered the punchline.

It was like Steve, Wanda, and Thor didn’t exist. The lovely couple in their own little bubble, speaking in a language only the two of them understood. Utterly and completely unaware of any and all of their surroundings.

“You okay?” Steve questioned, placing his hand on top of your hand, giving it a small squeeze. Discreetly and under the table away from prying eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I just need some air.” You weren’t sure what could remove the nothingness inside of you, but maybe some space would provide some comfort.

You felt like your heart had been ripped out right in front of you, again. He said he wouldn’t do it again, that he wanted to be with you, but all she had to do was come to town and he’d been chasing her just like he always did.

Excusing yourself you dipped out until you were out on the back patio. Alone to just think and mull over any little thing that should have tipped you off, but didn’t. You let it slide on, blinded by how much you thought you loved him.

You weren’t left in the peaceful night long, until Steve was joining you with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of red in the other.

“You looked like you could use a glass or two.” Steve gibed carefully. “I’m just using your sour mood as an excuse to escape from the party.” You were about to object when a full glass of wine was shoved into your grasp.

“I’m not in a sour mood. I’m just swell.” You spoke before taking a big swing of the drink, nearly emptying it’s contents, sending it barreling down your throat.

“Sure, honey. Just like the green monster isn’t oozing out of you.” You found yourself intentionally growling at him, just a little agitated of the truth he spoke.

The absolute audacity on this man seemed to never end. Whether it helped you or caused more misery than he intended.

“It certainly doesn’t help that she's so goddamn perfect. Was she fucking made in a lab? Jesus Christ.” You were jealous and if Steve already knew there was really no point in hiding it. It was written all over you, the longing look you were giving Bucky all night, desperately wanting to be the one he wanted.

“She’s not perfect, nobody is. Just better at hiding her faults than everybody else.” He said it like it was some known fact. Something you should’ve already known, but insecurities tended to eat you alive. Truthfully, it didn’t help that Bucky acted like Natasha walked on water in his hopeful, gleaming eyes. Stinging you like a bee piercing your soft, plush skin for the first time.

He really loved her. It didn’t matter how many times she messed up, what he felt was all the same — she was the one.

“Really? I don’t buy it. Name one.” Steve perched himself on his knees in front of you, his hands on the armrest of the chair you made yourself comfortable in. “Okay.”

“How about the fact that she loves Bucky just about more than anyone else but she’s too selfish to let him go? Then, for months she leads him on and promises she’ll come home but always leaves him heartbroken.” Steve let it flow all in one breath, as his body rested between your legs.

“Sounds gruesome.” You confessed because it hit a little close to home. “Yeah, it is and he has no right to do the same thing to an angel like you.”

You hated how he was right, truly hated it, but anyone with eyes could see how much Bucky dragged you through the mud. He had a good heart, but it just hadn’t been good to you.

Bucky’s intentions weren’t malicious and it didn’t seem like he was either but it didn’t take away from how much he continued to hurt you. All of the unintended consequences only affected you as he went on with his day.

Over and over, he continued to cause you pain and he didn’t even know it. Or he did and just neglected to acknowledge it. If he did, he’d actually have to deal with just how much he was actually hurting you.

It wasn’t like either one was particularly gunning for the latter, but Steve was. It wasn’t the first time Bucky had left you high and dry whenever the red head, beauty stepped foot into town. Although it was the first time you had a front row seat to the attention she commanded from him.

You both sat there in silence for the moment, taking in the starry night as he rested his cheek against your leg. He began running fingertips up and down your exposed calf, letting him soothe you.

“I’ll keep thinking I’ll be alright. That’ll get over him, but he just keeps pulling me back and jerking me around for his ride and I let him.” If anyone saw you besides Steve, you didn’t think you could handle it but you’re comfortable around him.

He’s continuously been there for you everytime Bucky pushed to the side for her. Always so sweet, so tender, comforting you in his warmth. Never once judging you, always taking the time time to just sit and listen to you.

“I don’t think it’s even about him anymore. I’m just chasing this unattainable moment, just so I fill this void in me. Maybe if he loves me I can love me, too.” Mumbling under your breath, hoping he didn’t hear you.

“Bubba.” You smiled for a second, as his voice dripped in concern. “You don’t need him or what little he can offer. Not when you can love yourself better than anyone else can.” He pulled himself up to his feet, picking you up from the chair until you were surrounded by just him.

“We love you. I love you, so stop listening to those nasty little thoughts, bubs. They’re far from the truth. You are truly amazing, incredibly beautiful, and deserve the absolute world.” With slight pressure from his index, he tilted your chin up, letting your eyes drown in his.

“Don’t expect anything less.” Steve breathed out, before testing the waters. He just held you there, caressing your back as you just sunk in his arms, allowing his warmth to ease your hurt. Just like he’d done so many times before.

Somehow, Steve seemed to know exactly what you need to hear. You didn’t know how he managed to be so wonderful all the time. Maybe you could just stay there forever with him shielding you from every single evil in the world out to get you.

“Can you take me somewhere? This is the last place I want to be.” Steve simply nodded before lacing your hand in his, before making your way back inside.

The moment the two of you stepped foot into the house, it was silent. Everyone looked at the two of you. Steve took notice of the Bucky’s bugged eyes at the joined hands of his two best friends, but knew better than to verbally acknowledge it.

It wasn’t something Steve and you hadn’t done, but never in the prying eyes of Bucky. Thor and Wanda had taken note of it a few times, but never spoke a word about it. Secretly, Wanda hoped it meant something for you, because she could see just how much Steve adored you.

He never spoke a word, so you remained clueless to a feeling he never felt like he had a right to speak on. No matter how strongly he felt, he knew if he confessed, it would do more damage than good.

You had become one of his closest friends in the past few years he’d known you and he wouldn’t jeopardize it for anything. Selfishly, he left you under Bucky’s radar because being your friend was far safer than risking the rejection he was sure would be sent his way.

He knew you were close to cutting Bucky off from your life completely, he just had to wait it out. Natasha being here tonight was the icing on the cake for Steve, because all he had to do was be here for in a way Bucky never could. Not when he was slicing through your heart every time his attention diverted from you to her.

Just because he was stuck in a past love instead of the future and Steve would fully take advantage of it — being there for you in any way you needed.

Regardless of everything, he wanted to — needed to. He couldn’t live with himself if he let you go through the hurt and heartache alone. Not when so many times you had seeked the comfort of him to lean on. Steve would never be one to say no to you.

“Are you leaving, doll?” The endearment Bucky intended to be sweet but left a sour taste in your mouth. More than that, you didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes widened slightly at the use of his pet name for you. The one she thought was only reserved for her.

Maybe if he held affection for you like he did earlier today, your heart would be filled to the brim, but he didn't. So, you weren’t. “Yeah, Steve’s going to take me home. I have an early morning tomorrow and I’ve already had a bit too much wine.” Bucky didn’t argue, nodding with a tight lipped smile.

Perhaps his indifference is what made you hurt even more. He didn’t care about anything, not even you with you so closely tangled with Steve. It didn’t have an effect on him because the woman sitting by his side, draped over him held more value than you ever could.

“You sure? I can make sure you get home safely.” Bucky pleaded, but before you could respond Steve did.

“I got it, Buck. I’ll make sure she gets home.” He looked like he wanted to say more but he decided to stay silent as he watched you walk out the door with Steve, hand and hand.

The drive home in the Uber was silent, Steve didn’t say a word, just the weight of his arm holding you close. He took note of how you refused to look at anything but the luminescence of the New York’s city lights captivating your vision.

Even if it hurt Bucky only chose you whenever Natasha wasn’t around you couldn’t help but focus on how hot and heated your body felt with Steve so close to you. Holding you so tightly like he was afraid you would let go.

Perhaps it was a bit shady of you to drape yourself over his childhood best friend whenever he rejected you, but now you were finding yourself finding solace in Steve in everything, like you used to with Bucky. He had become this safe place for you, where you wouldn’t be shamed for how you felt or what you were going through.

Even if he knew how much you were hurting from your own obliviousness to Bucky’s behavior, he always let you find solace in his strong, comforting arms. Always sturdy enough to hold the weight of your hurt and what he was carrying too. Just like tonight.

“He’s never going to love me the way I want him to — like the way he loves her.” It wasn’t a question any longer, it was a stone cold fact. Something you’d tried to ignore over the past year, especially.

Not wanting anything in this moment but him, you laid your head on his chest, his steady heartbeat giving you a sense of peace in the aftermath of your heartbreak. The crisp material of the white button up he was wearing shifted from the weight of you, he didn’t really mind.

“I think it’s time for me to let go of this image I have of him, one he can never live up to and accept him for who he is and where he’s at right now.” Steve nodded, still not saying a word, slipping farther and farther away from you as he let his thoughts consume him entirely.

It’d been happening a lot more lately. This. The close, excruciating intimacy between Steve and the woman he was in love with.

Over the past few months, anytime you were upset about something, you would show up at his doorsteps crashing into him as you wept. Always wanting to be close to him, snuggled up to his side, bleeding your heart out to him, something you hadn’t done with anyone.

Not even Bucky.

Then there was the one kiss on New Years’ Eve a few weeks ago which stayed imprinted on the forefront of his mind. He remembered when he woke up the following morning, he was holding you to his chest, the both of you bodies laced with one another.

He got up before you were there to consciously witness it, but it was all he thought about weeks after. Being that close awoke the need to be near you. It was already there, but now he knew how it felt to hold you in the comfort of his own bed.

It nearly killed him when you woke up, making your way down the stairs from his bedroom, wearing nothing but his boxers and the shirt he wore last night. Steve wasn’t drunk enough to completely forget the whole night, nothing had happened in his room last night. Seeing you, in here, in his apartment, made him think what his life could possibly be like with you here.

If he was ever to be so lucky.

As of yesterday, when you told him Bucky finally wanted to move forward with you, it broke him. Even if he kept his true feelings hidden, he felt you crush his heart with one fatale squeeze. Any particular hope he once had, was diminished into a fantasy far from reality.

The both of you were Steve’s best friends — he had to be happy for you.

Then, Natasha came to town. Storming through Bucky’s heart just like she’s always done. When Steve invited you to the dinner his best friend was trying to keep you from, he knew it could possibly be the last fatale blow to whatever string your relationship with Buck was. Maybe his, too.

Steve knew going after you could mean losing his really good friend, but he simply couldn’t stop himself. Not when you were a pure goddess ascending from above in all of your glory, capturing his heart in every single glance you threw his way. At this point, he didn’t care what it’d cost him.

As long as he had you, it would be worth it.

When the car pulled up to your street, you let your hand glide down his chest, resting on his lower abdomen. Not missing the way his body trembled under your touch, the thin material of his shirt doing nothing to protect him from you — not that he wanted to be anywhere but here.

As soon as those sinful words left your mouth, he knew he was done for.

Perhaps, if the both of you hadn’t been tipsy of the bottle of wine you shared, you wouldn’t feel the urge to invite him up, but he smelled too good and acted too perfect for any other consideration.

“Do you want to come inside, Stevie?” You purred watching the gears switch in his mind. Contemplating if he really should go through with it. Now that it was within his reach, he was becoming hesitant to grab it. You were drunk, he was drunk. Hence the uber and the both of your cars left behind in Tony and Pepper’s driveway.

“I don’t think it’s the best idea for me to go up there, bubs.” Instantly, you pouted. A deep frown etched on your beautiful face. “Why not? I think it would be a wonderful thing. Don’t you?” With one swift movement, you were cupping his crotch, making your intentions more than clear.

The grunt leaving Steve’s mouth was animalistic as he tried to exercise the very little restraint he was holding onto. It seemed to become increasingly difficult as you refused to move your hand away.

“I need you to take care of me and I’ll take care of you.” Finally releasing your grip on him, you exited out of the car and you didn’t have to look back to know he was falling you into the lobby of your apartment building.

After a silent elevator ride, with you tucked into his side you made the walk down the narrow hallway into your home, fidgeting to open the door with Steve’s hands caressing your sides. Carefully watching as you kicked off the painful heels, the bottom of your feet thankful, pulling you deeper into the apartment.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” You retreated, afraid someone else might turn you down, too. If Steve did, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’s been your person you can count on and now you couldn’t imagine your life without him.

Stopping your movement once you reached your bedroom, you were still waiting for his response. Meticulously, he reached for hand before twirling you around your back pressed against his front. Sighing, when his hand dragged up your spine, while the other hung on your waist with his hand pressed against your stomach.

Pushing the thin strap of your velvet dress, letting it fall off your shoulder. Soft, firm lips touching your soft skin, you couldn’t help but lean back into him. Tilting your head back, offering yourself up to him on a silver platter.

His touch felt like heaven and you didn’t think you’d ever want him to leave. Not when you always felt safe wrapped up in his large muscular arms. Never making you question if you felt wanted.

“Right now, my body wants you as badly as it ever has.” Steve confessed while his lips migrated towards your neck, giving you some much needed attention.

“Does it?” You questioned him, losing any other train of thought as let his other hand push the other strap off your shoulder, the slinky dress falling to floor pooling at your feet.

“It does, sweetheart, but it’ll have to wait.” Already pouting like the brat you were, ready to seduce him right into filling you up, just like you brought him here tonight for.

Dropping down to your level, Steve whispers in your ear, “Because when I fuck you just the way your pussy is aching for it won’t be when you’re drunk, princess.” Throwing gasoline on the fire he created, sharply he bit your earlobe, making you moan.

“I’ve thought about this so much, princess. At first, I thought I would take you from behind, but then I wouldn’t see those begging, doe-eyes itching for a release.” You were trembling for him. His filthy words flooding straight to your slick, crying for him already.

“Maybe you’d want to ride me, huh? Do you want to fuck yourself on my fat cock?” At this point, if it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed if he found out just how wet you were. Your panties are completely ruined because of him.

“I want to ride you so bad, Stevie.” Maliciously, he laughed before giving your clothed pussy a rough slap, causing you to gasp out. Your nails digging themselves into his bicep as you reached for it.

“Well, if you had been a good girl, maybe I’d let you cum on my cock.” You turned around face to face, ready to bruise your knees for him in a heartbeat. In this space and time, you’ve never wanted anyone more.

Harshly, he gripped your chin as his thumb smoothed over your bottom lip, dragging it down so it plumped right back up. “Bucky will be here tomorrow morning, if not tonight. I took his precious little play thing home and he’s not gonna like that one bit.”

“He wants to have his cake and eat it, too. If you want to let him, by all means go right ahead. And if you don’t? You know where I live, princess.” Very much in contrast to the last few minutes, he sweetly kissed your cheek and headed out right back the door without so much as a second glance.

Leaving you with a hell of a lot to process.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#ohhhh....this one got a lil spicy at the end ;)#to be continued....#if i dont get lazy <3 #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem reader #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x poc reader #steve rogers au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes x poc reader

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whumperooni · 3 years

Note

You asked for touya thirst. How about a brother touya where he sees his sister in cat keyhole underwear that was hidden under a virgin killing sweater!!!

Also I don’t know if you write for stain, but can I request him eating out his sister after she complains to a friend (over a phone call which he hears) about how her boyfriend sucked at it?

I’m gonna have to very gently deny the Stain- I like his character, but he’s just not someone I personally lewd!

But I absolutely will write something for the Touya thirst!

tags/warnings: tw incest, voyeurism, masturbation, some misogyny, uhhh idk what to call it but reader’s friend feeling her up,

“Oh, that looks so cute on you!”

“Really? I wasn’t sure about it- I don’t usually wear this sort of thing...”

“No, it looks great- really! Your boyfriend will love that!”

Touya rolls his eyes at the chattering going on next door and stretches his arms over his head, yawns and scratches at his stomach.

He needs a smoke and a beer and a break from all the giggling going on in his little sister’s room- you and your pain in the ass friend have been chatting non-fucking-stop since coming home from shopping and he’s starting to get fucking annoyed with it.

This house is always too goddamn loud.

Touya huffs as another round of gentle giggling sounds and rolls his eyes, pushes himself up from his computer chair. There’s more giggling whenever he opens his bedroom door and Touya clicks his tongue at it, pulls out a cigarette and lights it up.

That’s a little better.

Your door is open just a crack whenever he passes by and Touya’s eyes flick to it on instinct.

Well, well- what’s this?

Usually, Touya would just head on and ignore you- he doesn’t really give a shit about his little sister and he definitely doesn’t give a shit about your friends. But getting a glimpse of soft hands running up your waist has him pausing and Touya’s brow raises as he watches your friend nuzzle into your neck, as he watches soft breasts push against your bared back.

Well...that’s kinda hot.

And what you’re wearing is kinda hot too. Usually you’re dressed kinda frumpy- sweaters and long skirts, woolen tights- a real Fuyumi 2.0. But the little number you’re wearing is far from the usual- it’s a sweater, kinda, but it’s backless and cut so the soft swell of your breasts are teased, cut so the littlest bit of ruffled lace peeks above the hem and flaunts a glance of your panties.

Touya has never seen you wear something like that before.

Shit- when did his little sis get such a hot bod?

Touya takes a drag of his cigarette as he spies on you- eyes half-shut as he takes in the way your friend runs her fingers up your side and makes you squirm against her, laugh.

Well, that’s fuckin’ hot too- he didn’t know your little friend was so handy with you. He didn’t know you like having another girl feel you up like that.

What about your boyfriend? Does he know that you let the little slut press herself against you like that? Does he get to watch that? Do you let her do even more?

Touya’s half-hard before he even knows it and he licks his lips as he realizes what a whore his frump of a sister is.

He would have never guessed it.

But, then again, he’s never really paid attention to you either.

“Come on, let’s see what that dress you bought looks like on you!”

Touya’s lips quirk in disappointment when your friend pulls away, but he doesn’t move an inch as he watches you nod, as he watches your hands grip the hem of your sweater thing. You pull it off without any thought and Touya’s teeth chomp down hard on his cigarette as your body is revealed, as your tits drop into view and he gets an eyefull of his little sister’s chest.

Fuck, your tits are sweet- they look so soft and nice, just how he likes ‘em.

Touya swallows as he looks you over- cock growing harder and his hand twitching at his side.

What the fuck have you been doing hiding those away? You should be flaunting those sweet tits instead of covering them up like a prissy little cunt.

“Hey- have you gone up a cup? I swear they were smaller before!”

If Touya was a lesser man, he’d groan as your friend’s hands latch onto your tits and gives them a squeeze. He does breathe in deep at the sight, though, and he does reach down to squeeze his cock through his sweats whenever you squeal and laugh- head tilting back with a giggle and your cheeks flaring with a cute little flush.

Fuck, your nips are getting hard- you must be real sensitive.

“I think so! My bras are a little tight these days.”

“Aw, I’m so jealous! Give me some!”

Another laugh and more squirming from you, more giggling as your friend pouts and hooks her chin over your shoulder. There’s some more banter, but Touya doesn’t hear it- he’s much too busy wrapping his hand around his cock and eyeing your tits hungrily, much too busy watching the way the soft flesh spills between the gaps of your friend’s fingers when she gives them another squeeze.

Fuck, that’s hot.

You’re both such little sluts. He bets you’ve made out before. He bets if he got a drink or two in you both you’d end up tangled up in bed together- lips locked and cunts rocking against each other.

God, he wants to see that.

Touya grits his teeth and the filter of his cigarette gets ground down, ashes fall to the floor as he pumps his cock.

A little giggle slips from you and you turn around only to flash your panties at him.

God, those are hot too- they’re all ruffle trimmed and cute with little ears poking up on the backside. He’s seen them before on e-sluts and kittenplay whores and, fuck, he almost wishes you had the top to match and some ears too.

Yeah, you’d look real cute done up like that- he bets you’d be a good little kitten; all obedient and soft with a tight little cunt and an eager mouth. He bets you’d whine like a whore if he put a collar around your neck, if he popped a fat tail plug up your cute ass.

Shit. Shit he’d like to see that.

You disappear from view and Touya scowls when you reappear in a modest dress- the calf reaching thing hiding all the sweet assets he’s just been made privy to.

You and your friend chatter and Touya loses interest in that, turns right around and heads back to his room.

He doesn’t give a shit about you and that little slut talking about your college professors and upcoming dates- he’d rather see you stripped naked again.

Touya huffs as he enters his room and tosses his cigarette into a half-empty bottle of gatorade. When he throws himself on the bed, he stuffs his hand back down his pants and groans as he fists his cock, gives it a stroke.

Fuck, now he’s gonna have you on his mind all night- now he’s gonna be jackin’ off to you until his cock is too sensitive to do anymore. He’s gonna be thinkin’ about your soft tits and cute ass, how you’d look all fucked out underneath him.

Touya grunts and his hips fuck against his fist as another round of giggles sound next door, his mind dances with the image of your half-naked body.

God, fuck, maybe he should have been paying attention to you after all.

Touya jerks himself off to the thought of his little sister and he groans as schemes of getting you into his bed runs through him, as he gets off to his little sister without any shame or hesitation.

#touya todoroki x reader #rooni's shit #tw incest #aecarter111

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totopopopo · 3 years

Note

Carpenter or Faulkner!!

Hhhgggfjfh 🖤🖤🖤 I’ll do carpenter but only bc I flipped a coin. I love Faulkner so much

First impression: mean women my beloved. Also hm interesting it seems like her relationship with her faith is kind of like. It’s more cultural than religious? And the actual religion part. Is she losing faith in the trawler man but sticking with it for her brother/nana/past?

Impression now: okay, I take it back, I don’t think she’s losing faith. I think her faith and her relationship to the trawler man is different but I think it’s just as strong and religious as Faulkner’s it’s just. Not religious in the same way. His is all ritual and traditions and hers is quieter and personal and introspective. His is very Following Organized Religion and hers is very Not. But I was wrong to think her faith is slipping, at least I think. Also mean women my beloved.

Favorite moment: I have a few favorite moments from the most recent episode with her, especially toward the end of the episode I hhhhh. But idk if you’ve caught up yet so I’ll say something I know you’ve heard from ep4 when she’s looking at the elk hanging in the clearing and she’s like “maybe elks are different here maybe these elks naturally have human hands and fucked up bodies?” Only to immediately after be like oh. Fuck. Also love the “tell me more about your god I want to know who’s house I’m burning down” line

Idea for a story: I mean I feel like tsv is so new I’m still watching this story unravel I’m not at the making a new one yet stage but. Would love to see carpenter as a little girl while still under the care of her grandmother. I imagine she was a scary fierce little girl who would wade out into the River and if someone passed by like a mail man or a stranger she would just. Stare at them. With this Icy and terrifying glare standing calf deep in water legs apart fists clenched and they’d be like holy shit little girls are creepy. I would love to see more of child carpenter

Unpopular opinion: I don’t think there’s a big enough fandom for me to know if my opinions are popular or not but I think she’s in her 40s at the VERY LEAST if not older. And I think she’s greying and has long wild hair.

Favorite relationship: her and Faulkner. Hands down. I love mean woman. But also the most recent episode ., oh? Oh. God I love their dynamic so much.

Favorite headcanon: (that I just came up with right now) I think she has her own fishhooks like her nana glass. She doesn’t wear them anymore it’s too risky she never really wore them anywhere except in the parish. But when she was in the parish she would wear em proud, not to show she was one of them but to show she was her grandmother’s granddaughter. To show she had a birthright. To show she was closer to their god than them because it was in her blood. To honor her grandmother.

#the silt verses #:33 #have u. listened to recent episode .#if so WHAT DID U THINK

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touch-of-eden · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Adam/Langa

Rating: Probably Teen?

Probably yet another 'what would happen if Adam offered to tutor Langa' kinda thing

Idk there's like a six day wait to get an ao3 invite, so I'm shoving it here for now. Under a cut for length

------

The first time it happened, he still had Reki's voice echoing in his ear: "I'll have you take it back… with this."

But he could also hear another voice: "I took a look at your skating. It was brilliant! But…"

But.

Langa shook his head, as if trying to shake the voice out. Adam had hardly seemed… nice. But he couldn't deny the lingering curiosity. Could someone truly push him past where Reki had gotten him?

His hand came up to clutch his shirt, to feel the racing pulse beneath it.

Adam had left them alone, accepting Reki's beef, with Langa accepting the terms he'd thrown. Though, even now, days later, he couldn't stop thinking about that 'but.' And then he'd found the note.

Little Langa, won't you join me? Let's see how far I can take you.

It had been followed by a time and a location.

He slipped out after midnight, riding down to the specified warehouse where he now waited, gripping tight to his board. Did this count as betraying Reki?

Did Reki even need to know?

A lighter flared to life, far too close. His heart kicked up another notch as a cigarette was lit. As a man in a mask took a long drag before blowing the smoke out into his face.

Langa coughed, resisting the urge to push the man… to push Adam back as he leaned in, a wicked fanged grin glowing in the faint moonlight from a nearby window.

He swallowed hard as a tongue ran across a pointed tooth.

"So good to see you again," Another inhale, another stream of smoke across his face. "Snow."

"I'm here to... learn?" It was a question, shaky, as his back pressed against the wall, trying to put any sort of distance between him and Adam.

They worked on nothing but stances that night. Adam's fingers lingered over his calf, his knee, his thigh… His chest pressed to Langa's back as he whispered instructions.

And Langa… tried not to shiver at the warm breath drifting across his ear and neck. At the hands that slid around his waist.

But why? Why was he letting Adam get away with this?

The second time it happened, Reki's arm was in a sling. He'd snuck out again, met up with a familiar mask. Only now they were there, knowing they'd be skating together in the near future.

Once again, Adam held him close—too close—as they reviewed stances. And just before Adam let him go, before they were to practice skating, he was yanked nearly flush against the taller man's body.

His heart thundered in his ears as Adam leaned in, tongue flicking across a fang.

"You're already improving so much, my little Langa."

Breath washed warm across his face. He couldn't take his eyes off that grin. Those fangs.

"Tell me. Are you enjoying our time together?"

He should have said no. Should have run. Should have told Reki what a stupid, stupid thing he'd been doing.

But Reki would be so mad.

No, it was best he didn't know. Instead he looked up at the ornate mask, at the hint of red he thought he could see behind it. And he spoke.

"Yes."

The third time was after he had promised not to race Adam again. Though he supposed he'd also promised to stay away.

But here he was.

Adam leaned in close when they unnecessarily went through stances. He touched Langa's thighs, his hips. He pressed them together, a large hand across Langa's abdomen. They moved together in sync, almost a dance of sorts. Picking right up where they'd left off on the track.

The fourth time, Adam tugged Langa close.

The fifth time, Langa returned the favor.

His skating was improving in leaps and bounds under Adam's instruction, so why not? Maybe there was something to be learned from their dance.

Reki... didn't have to know, right?

See, where Reki was safety, comfort… Adam was fascination. Adam was athletic wonder.

And Reki didn't need to know how whenever he was close to Adam, his heart would race. He didn't need to know about the whispers. Of Adam's infatuation. He didn't need to know the way that half sweaty and exhausted from a lap or two around the circuit, Adam would shove him back against a wall. The violent way he'd show what he called love.

He didn't have to know that the high collared shirt Langa wore wasn't only for his comfort anymore.

The sixth time, Reki was mad at him. Mad that he wanted to compete in the tournament. Mad that he was excited to race Adam again.

But how. How was he supposed to deny the way his heart raced when close to Adam? How was he to explain the things… the heart pounding, adrenaline rushing feelings he felt whenever they skated together? When they danced?

The seventh time.

He'd hesitated for once. He'd watched Adam the night before, watched him swing a board square into Cherry's face.

But then he'd called out to Snow. He'd said they should be together. He'd been called Eve. The match... a partner to Adam.

And that night, as they'd practiced, as Adam had touched him, his hands had been almost gentle, shifting his stances before pinning him to the wall to show him love.

It had to stop. He couldn't keep on this way. Sneaking behind Reki's back… behind everyone's back. Surely it wouldn't always be their own little Eden.

But he was in far too deep and couldn't keep himself away at that point. He wanted to be better. Faster. Stronger. He wanted to beat Adam, to be this Eve. He wanted to keep improving.

And only Adam knew how to push him.

#adamlanga #edenshipping #edensk8 #no I don't know what the heck I'm doing #i'm yeeting this into the void and calling it a night #i'm here for a wild time not a well behaved time

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mfingenius · 5 years

Note

Hi I love your writing so much, I get so happy when I see you on my timeline♡ You say that you take requests (idk if you wanna write this, its totally okay if you dont) so I was thinking about drarry where Draco lost one of his legs from below the knee after the war & no one really knows so when he and Harry starts dating after the war Draco is really self conscious bc they haven't had sex yet and what if H doesnt find him attractive? So kinda how H finds out maybe? You can make your own twist!

Draco does not talk about the leg.

It’s not that he’s ashamed of it - which is not to say that he never was, because the looks people gave him when they found out were always a cause for shame, and it took him a long, long time to realize that that shame wasn’t his to bear; it was theirs, anyone who looked at him half in pity, as though they could somehow know what it’s like - it just… doesn’t come up, generally.

He doesn’t see how - or why - he should bring it up in conversation. It’s not like everyone goes around telling people what body parts they have or don’t have, and Draco’s body is no one’s business but his own.

It’s already been five years since he lost the lower half of his right leg - when he was seventeen, thanks to a rather nasty curse his aunt Bellatrix threw at him when she found him a spy - and, in that time, he’s told exactly two people: Pansy and Blaise.

That’s it. He hasn’t had anyone else he wanted to tell it to, and, because of magical advances, his prosthetic looks exactly like his leg used to. He can - and has - had sex with people without telling them, when they didn’t matter to him. Originally, this was supposed to only be another one night stand. Of course - as with many things in his life - Harry Potter seemed to take one look at Draco’s general rules and thoughts of life and proceeded to think ‘fuck that’ and completely changed them all.

Which is exactly why Draco has been dating the git for six months now.

“You alright?” Potter frowns lightly down at Draco. They’re sitting on the sofa, watching a movie in Draco’s flat, and Potter’s hand is on his hip, trailing soothing circles on his hipbone.

“Fine,” Draco responds shortly.

Let’s get one thing clear: he doesn’t need Potter. If the - now ex - Gryffindor git suddenly decides to break up with him after he finds out about Draco’s leg - or lack thereof, he thinks sardonically - Draco will deal with it, and he will move on, because it is what he does. He doesn’t want to have to get over Potter though.

Potter presses a kiss to the top of his head, and Draco leans his head against his shoulder.

Draco could not tell him, he knows, but he refuses to hide any part of himself from people he loves.

And fuck, but he thinks he does love Harry.

“Are you watching the movie at all?” Potter asks, amused.

“No.” Draco admits. He can’t concentrate. He straddles Harry’s lap, and rests his on his shoulders, around his neck. “Want to snog?”

Potter laughs, but leans in and kisses him tenderly.

It’s not long before Draco’s straddling him, and though it’s comfortable - and it is more than comfortable, believe him - and Draco’s more than ready to do more than this - he’d never spent six months in a relationship without having sex - he’s… nervous. Harry - and it’s only Harry when Draco’s admitting he’s in love with him or when they’re touching - evidently notices.

“We don’t have to, love,” He says softly, lips against Draco’s neck. “I won’t pressure you.”

“It’s not that.” Draco moans. “It’s just - it’s-”

Harry’s hand drops from his thigh to his calf, rubbing at the exact spot where prosthetic meets limb.

He archs an eyebrow.

Fuck.

Magic can make it look like whatever it wants, but the prosthetic is still most distinctly not flesh.

“I-” Draco tumbles off Harry’s lap and sits on the sofa beside him, rubbing at his forehead. “I’m, uh. I lost my leg. Not my entire leg, just - below the knee. While I was spying for the order.”

It had been hell, at the moment, and it had been hell after. Draco had been in so much pain, and even after he’d been rescued, after he was supposed to be alright again, the pain persisted, centered in parts Draco didn’t even have anymore. It had been frustrating, to say the least, but, thankfully, the phantom pain has been getting rarer and rarer in the past five years.

“What happened?” Harry asks quietly.

Draco swallows. He feels like he’s told this story a thousand times, even if he knows that, realistically, he hasn’t. “You know that… that I was found out.” Not found out. Someone had ratted Draco out, someone from the order, but - to the day - Draco doesn’t know who it was. “Aunt Bellatrix wanted - she wanted to know what I told you.”

Draco - even through the pain - had felt the deep, vicious satisfaction of watching her face twist when he’d said ‘everything’.

Harry looks furious for the half a second it takes him to get his expression under control. When he does, he says, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

“There’s nothing more to talk about,” Draco gives half a shrug. “That’s all there is.”

“Do you want to take it off?”

The prosthetic is uncomfortable - even more so because he’s been wearing it too often, lately, because he’s been around Harry - and he itches to take it off, but he doesn’t, yet. He didn’t think Harry had noticed.

“I-” he swallows. He can’t help but feel oddly vulnerable, and he doesn’t know how to continue.

“Fred - you saved him.” Harry says softly. Draco remembers that; he’d been in recovery for six months by the time the Final Battle broke out. He’d had no desire at all to show up, but he did, because he had to. Because his part was not done yet, he knew. It’d turned out that he’d been right. “He lost an arm, though. He - I know it’s uncomfortable for him, wearing it for too long. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Draco hesitates. He’s used to doing this when he’s alone - mostly because he lives alone and he rarely goes to places where he can do this - and though it’s different with Harry here, it’s not uncomfortable.

It’s never uncomfortable.

He takes it off. Harry doesn’t look away from his eyes as he does, and, when Draco leaves it by the leg of the sofa - because he has forgotten he’s not wearing it more than a few times and ended up sprawled on the floor for trying to stand up without it - and waits.

Harry moves closer to him and kisses the top of his head.

“Film?” he offers, pointing to the still-on TV. He grins. “Or more snogging?”

Draco grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him into a kiss.

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

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NOTE: Alright babes so I read these articles (1 2 3 (there are a lot of personal experiences in that third one so if ure interested that’s the link i would recommend)) to give myself an idea of what it’d be like… however, I know that reading is nothing like the real thing, so I really really hope I didn’t get this wrong and if it is in any way offending/insulting/pathetically uninformed please let me know

#drarry #fanfic #mine

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7-wonders · 4 years

Note

idk about you but horny/needy Michael has me 🥵 like teasing him until he can’t take it anymore is the absolute dream

…Nice.

(as always, thanks to @divinelangdon for the idea while we were talking about subjects that shall remain nameless)

You had the idea in mind for quite some time, but had to be careful on when to execute the plan, lest Michael get suspicious or decide to punish you. Although he’s a very dominant man (we’re talking Outpost!Michael here), he has his periods of softness. After a long day of interviews–listening to various residents complain about their living conditions when they should be grateful for even surviving nuclear Armageddon, as well as spurning the laughable attempts at seduction–Michael was more than ready to lay in bed with you and refuse to leave his chambers until it was absolutely necessary.

Sensing the palpable resignation when Michael walks in, as well as seeing how tight his shoulders are, you realize that now is the time to strike. He gives you a half-hearted smile before sitting on the bed, watching with weary eyes as you move to sit on your knees below him. Taking off Michael’s leather riding boots is a normal part of your daily routine, as regular as brushing your teeth or eating lunch.

“Long day?” you ask, undoing the top buckle on his left boot before sliding the zipper delicately down the length of his calf.

“You have no idea.”

You frown. “We could just kill them and end this little trip now. We’d be back at the Sanctuary in time for breakfast.”

“While that sounds appealing,” Michael flexes his foot once it’s free of the confines of his shoe as you work on the other boot, “the plan is already set in motion. The apples should arrive in the morning, and the snakes–”

“I should hope that you won’t have to conjure up more of them?” Slowly, you begin to massage Michael’s feet and legs, partially to actually help him relax and partially to catch him off guard for what you’re about to do. “Everything you’ve done since the bombs dropped is for your father. The least he can do is drop a few venomous snakes in this Outpost.”

“That’s nothing you need concern yourself with.”

“I just think you work too hard.” He doesn’t notice when your hand starts to rise just above his knee, movements becoming softer than the deep massage you were focusing on earlier.

“It will all be worth it when the world is truly cleansed.”

Sick of the Satan talk, you look up at Michael through your eyelashes as your hand moves higher once more. You’re nearly to the middle of his thigh, but Michael is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize that your hands are even still on him.

“It’s all worth it now,” you lower your voice to little more than a murmur. Michael’s breath hitches imperceptibly when your nails begin to trace his upper thigh, just barely grazing the side of his cock. “Michael?”

“Hmm?”

“I really think you should take some time for yourself.”

Pouting, you apply more pressure as you begin to directly stroke his hardening length. Michael bites his bottom lip as he gazes down at you, bracing both hands on the bed for leverage. The candlelight creates a backlight for his long golden hair, making it look as if a halo is behind his head. You relish the irony of the thought as you trail your hand back down to the middle of his thigh.

“I-I can’t, (Y/N). There’s emails to be sent to Cooperative members, plans to be finalized–” he cuts himself off with a choked gasp when you suddenly squeeze his cock through his black leather pants.

“Now, that’s not what I wanted to hear.” Raising yourself up from your knees, you hike one leg around Michael’s waist to straddle his lap. His eyes are wide, nearly blown out as he stares at you like you’re the goddess he claims you to be.

“(Y/N),” he stutters your name, shakily placing his hands on your hips. You toss your head back, basking in the power that you hold over the most dangerous being to walk the Earth. Oh, you could get used to this.

“Think of all that you’ll miss,” you begin to roll your hips against his, punctuating your sentence with a dramatically breathy moan for Michael’s enhanced pleasure. “You’re gone all day, leaving me here all alone…”

“Is this what you do when you’re alone? Scheme?” He attempts to sound threatening, but the feeling of your clothed cunt thrusting against his constrained length evaporates any sort of ferocity in his tone.

“Well, when you leave me no choice, what else am I supposed to do?” Kissing his nose, you abruptly stand from his lap. Michael lets out a loud, dejected groan, his face red from the restraint.

“(Y/N), please,” you almost grin at the whiny sound of his voice, but contain yourself.

“I’m sorry, what is it that you want?” You smile wickedly at him, and you can see the appreciation in Michael’s eyes at the page you’ve taken from his playbook.

“Come back here and finish what you’ve started.”

You lean down so your face is mere inches from his, grabbing his jaw with your hand and enjoying how his eyes flutter from the pain. “Then beg.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story imagines #AHS #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #ahs apocalypse

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excvlsior · 3 years

Text

about: *leo fowler.

basics.

full name: leopold kristoff fowler meaning of name: leopold = ‘people’ & ‘bold’, kristoff = ‘bearing christ’ nickname: leo, tadpole by some family members age: 23 date of birth: november 12, 1996 hometown: tallahassee, florida nationality: american ethnicity: dutch gender: demiboy sexuality: pansexual spoken languages: dutch, english profession: in lovell he’s a part time student and works at fowler’s flowers, but just the latter in st. louis

appearance.

height: 6′2″ eye colour: blue hair colour: auburn??? i feel like that’s the version of if someone had strawberry blond hair bt . strawberry brown instead??? idk it’s reddy-brown voice: pretty deep, surprisingly smooth jst feel like he has the personality of someone with a rougher voice bt . alas...... obnoxiously thick southern accent tattoos: c’est la vie on his ribcage, kristoff on his hip, ‘x’ on the inside of his middle finger done in shitty stick and poke, ‘L’ done in stick and poke on the side of his wrist, heart with a knife through it on his chest, tattoo inside his lip that says ‘pussy master’* :pensive:, ‘ouch’ on the bottom of both soles of his feet*, a hand giving the middle finger on the back of his left calf, dolly parton’s signature on the top of his thigh from when he got it at one of her concerts, a smiley face on his ass* >_>, a melting popsicle on the back of his right bicep*, ghost face mask on his right shin; * = he did them on a dare LKHSDGKLHLSDG piercings: lobes, right cartilage, industrial bar in his left ear, nostril, had an eyebrow and lip piercing when he was younger clothing style: pretty dishevelled and purposely ill prepared outfits, sometimes u can catch him in just plaid and khakis but more often than not he’s in something weird, his prized possession is a leopard print shirt that has a heart in the center, steals clothes from his aunt and uncle when he has nothing clean/can’t bother finding anything, been seen in marj’s skirts and leggings bc of this, and then on the other hand he’ll wear like a lime green tank top with a monster baseball cap worn sideways his style is just carefree and eclectic

health.

physical ailments: n/a neurological conditions: bipolar i disorder allergies: n/a sleeping habits: pretty much only falls asleep between the hours of 3-5 am, doesn’t matter if he works the morning or afternoon shift....... if he doesn’t work at all he’ll just sleep until his body naturally wakes up which is also usually around 3-5 pm KLSDGLKHSDGLKHDG exercise habits: doesn’t exactly have one..... he’s a pretty active and energetic guy so he’s usually up and about doing whatever anyway, also rides his bike everywhere since marj and steve r usually out with the only car they have sociability: loves being around people but he’ll eventually grow cranky, doesn’t necessarily need to be alone but at least with a different group of people if he gets to this point, the only time he actively doesn’t really want to see people is when he’s having a depressive episode but those don’t last too long as is drink / smoke / drugs: yes / yes / yes

personality.

positive traits: adventurous, courageous, determined, funny, gregarious, independent, quick-witted, tough, versatile negative traits: belligerent, cantankerous, foolhardy, harsh, impulsive, parsimonious, sarcastic, tactless, unpredictable, vulgar goals/desires: lowkey he’d never admit it but he just kinda wants his parents’ approval in the end, and also maybe to find something better than supervisor at a flower store (no offence to marj and steve its just not his dream) fears: staying committed and missing out on different opportunities/people that could change his life, the fact that he probably can’t do any better than be a supervisor at a flower store tbh hobbies: drinking, drawing a bit tbh, thrifting, loves collecting random knick knacks and is personally loving buttons rn, harassing his friends<3, making stupid tiktoks that somehow have gotten him a kind of big following habits: swearing obnoxiously without caring, yells in dutch when he’s frustrated which he’s mostly picked up on cuz everyone else in his family does it, stares more than what is socially acceptable tbh, refuses to walk under ladders

favourites.

weather: sunny with some clouds colour: dark green music: likes a lot of 90s and early 2000s rap and rock, old school country like he loves dolly parton LKSDHGKLHSDGLK rly enjoys elvis presley too, some edm or anything that he can jst dance wildly to movies: old school slasher films, screams his fav movie series ever food: spaghetti bt specifically w marj’s Phenom homemade meat sauce<3 drink: grape juice, whiskey sour

relationships.

father: steven fowler is his uncle but currently his legal guardian, he’s a co-owner of fowler’s flowers and is kind of a mess but in like the fun way....... LKSHDGKLHSLDG he just spends a lot of the day in nothing but boxers and socks w their cat on his lap watching the weather report if he’s not working, has the weird energy of someone who would be running like a joke shop instead of being a florist. archibald fowler is leo’s biological dad but he sucks Big Time, giant business typhoon i hvnt . figured out 100% wht sort of business bt hes got Money bt doesnt even rly want anything to do w leo he jst sees him as a massive disappointment bc archie’s nothing but a loser fart of a square. mother: marjorie fowler’s his aunt and other legal guardian also the other co-owner of fowler’s flowers, literally the sweetest woman on the planet like she’s never done anything wrong in her life n u can take tht to the bank. she’s a bit weird n super spiritual, their house constantly smells like random herbs and rly intensely of flowers and plants bc she makes so many home remedies bt she’s an angel a fkin ANGEL!!!!! renata kline’s leo’s mom n she’s like . fine ig she was pretty negligent n her best friend is a bottle of wine....... she rly peaked at a young age when she was a pageant girl n she still coaches n stuff now bt she’s obvs rly sad so leo tries not to lose it on her too much even tho he thinks she’s annoying LKSHDGKLHSLDKGKLSDG siblings: augustus is his oldest brother and he’s pretty cool, probs the brother leo is closest with even tho he considers him boring bt it’s only bc he’s . actually responsible n wht not they had a lot of fun growing up together tho when leo visited new york. mikhael is the devil, he’s actually a bit of a cunt n both him n leo have expressed their hatred fr each other without missing a beat i think they actually dnt hv any love or affection fr the other in the slightest SKLDHGLKSDHG. vaughn n leo r closest in age he’s not tht much younger n he’s probs the shiest of them, pretty soft spoken n well meaning, him n leo dnt rly keep in contact too much anymore bt theres a special place in his heart fr vaughn he’s pretty protective even tho he bullies him a lot bt thts besides the point. willhelm’s the youngest n it kinda shows he’s pretty idgaf attitude n rly blunt bt he’s also funny n probs the biggest partier outside of leo so he gets a pass whenever he rolls his eyes in leo’s face. pets: mitzie’s an 8 year old tortoiseshell cat who lives primarily on ppls laps shes literally more lap dog than cat significant other: n/a family’s financial status: middle class

extra.

zodiac sign: scorpio<3 mbti: estp - the entrepeneur enneagram: the epicure temperament: sanguine hogwarts house: gryffindor moral alignment: chaotic neutral primary vice: pride primary virtue: dilligence element: fire

#muse | leo fowler.#dabs my forehead #this took me a thousand years bt the deeds #finally done.

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nastybuckybarnes · 5 years

Text

Wicked Games - Two

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU

Summary: Everyone in the world has a soulmate. And until they meet that soulmate, everyone in the world stops aging at 25. Wrongfully accused of a horrendous crime and on the run, you happen to bump into the man who’s been avoiding you for the past seventy-five years.

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Injuries (Minor), Confrontation???

Word Count: 3.5K

A/n: THE GEOGRAPHY OF BROOKLYN AND ALL SURROUNDING AREAS HAS BEEN CHANGED FOR THIS STORY!!! Bucky centric chapter kinda. Idk I like it.

MASTERLIST Previous Part

Recap:

You run away from the store with a few other people then take a hard right down a back lane, leaning against a building and trying to catch your breath. You shove off of the building after another moment and run deeper into the older part of town where many buildings are either abandoned or worth millions.

As you’re running you hear a sound that makes your stomach drop.

It gets closer and closer, far louder and scarier than the sirens.

They’ve let the dogs loose on you.

~*~

You don’t think you’ve ever ran this much in your life.

Your legs aren’t hurting anymore, they’re numb. Your lungs have seemed to stop begging for oxygen and are making do with what little they’re getting. Your head is spinning and you feel like if you don’t stop soon you’ll pass out.

Pushing yourself farther, you come across the same little forested area that brought you to this town.

Not giving it a second thought, you run between the trees, looking desperately for somewhere to hide.

“She’s in the woods! Have units on the other side waiting! We cannot let her escape!” You shiver at that voice and run deeper, head snapping up as you hear something rather promising.

The bubbling of a water body.

You follow the sound, growing anxious as you hear the dogs barking approaching. You reach the water and hesitate for a moment, glancing over your shoulder.

As you see all the German Shepherds running towards you, you jump into the little river, surprised at how deep it is. You swim as fast as you can, breaking the surface and gasping for breath as one of the dogs jumps in after you.

It’s teeth latch onto your right calf and you scream, water getting into your mouth and choking you.

You desperately try to kick it off, but it’s teeth stay stuck in your leg.

“We’ve got her!” A different man shouts. You begin apologizing to the dog in your head, then lift your other foot and kick it as hard as you can. It yelps and falls off of you, whimpering as it swims back to the shoreline.

You pull yourself up on the other side and take a step, gasping as fiery pain licks up your entire right side.

Leg giving out, you tumble to the ground, cursing and moaning in pain. Your eyes flash open as you see the dogs back in the water, swimming across quickly, the cops not too far behind.

Gritting your teeth, you shove the pain away and force yourself to your feet, limp-running through the trees as fast as you can.

As the barking and yelling starts up again, your adrenaline stops the pain from being as severe. You find your way into a grassy area, and a quick look around lets you know that this is someone’s backyard.

You’re back in the fucking town.

Moving swiftly, you make your way through the streets, realizing you’re in the old neighbourhood where not many people live.

A large, nice-looking house catches your eye and you bit your bottom lip, an idea striking you.

You peel off your soaked sweater and carefully take off your shoes, setting a trap. As you move up the street, you drop one shoe then throw the other through the window of an abandoned, run down house.

Limping as fast as you can to the nice house, you tear off a piece of your shirt and stick it to a board on the abandoned house, dropping your sweater outside of it.

You move fast to the nice house, eventually making it there. You drop to your knees and crawl towards the back as you hear the dogs and cops down the street.

Testing each and every window leading to the basement of the house, you almost cry as a window slides open silently.

Being as careful, quick, and quiet as you can be, you climb through the window, your feet landing on the hard concrete floor of an unfinished basement.

Your right leg gives out for a second time and you bite back a sob at the pain, struggling to your feet to close the window.

You crawl through the basement, searching desperately for a first-aid kit. Just as you’re about to give up and bleed out all over some stranger’s basement, the familiar Red Cross looks down at you from upon a high shelving unit.

It takes everything you have not to scream as you pull yourself to your feet to grab the kit, but once it’s safely in your grasp you collapse onto the floor again, only a few feet away from the furnace.

Carefully, so very carefully, you peel the fabric of your pants away from your leg, whimpering with every brush against your wound.

It’s dark in the basement, thankfully, because if there’d been light... you doubt you’d be able to stay conscious.

Below your right knee is soaked. And not with the cold water of the river. It’s warm and sticky to the touch.

You take a shaky breath in and open the first aid kit. The bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide is heavy in your hands, and you dread using it. So much so that you think you’d rather let your leg get infected.

Pulling up your shirt, you stuff a wad of the fabric in your mouth while tipping the open bottle over your leg.

Your leg spasms and you scream a little, tears streaming down your cheeks at the newfound pain of the wound being cleaned.

You use half the bottle, just to be safe, then start tightly wrapping your entire calf with gauze, using an ace bandage after the gauze has run out.

With the tightness of the gauze and bandages around your leg, the fiery pain has been reduced to a dull ache, an ache that you can certainly live with.

You pull your arms to your chest and let out a shaky breath, trying to control your emotions as you think about how the Hell you’re going to escape someone’s house without getting caught.

~*~

“Again?! We lost her again?! How the fuck does she keep getting away?!” Bucky snarls, slamming his fists down on his desk.

“Calm down, Buck!” Steve’s commanding voice yells, shoving his friend’s shoulder.

“She’s smart. Clearly she knows what she’s doing, or at least has an idea of what she’s doing. There’s only so many abandoned buildings on your street. Your house is the only inhabited one, and I doubt she’d be stupid enough to go there anyway. You can keep your eyes open in a way that the rest of us can’t. We’re setting up a perimeter as we speak and a team is searching the woods.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, the metal plates in his arm whirring softly as he tries to calm the fuck down.

“Steve, we were so fucking close. How, how does she keep getting away?” Steve sighs and sits on the brunet’s desk.

“I don’t know. But I do know that there’s definitely a lot more to this case than we know. I looked into her family and her history. She’s basically an orphan at this point. Her mother and father both died in a car accident. Her older brother is working for NASA and hasn’t spoken to or about his little sister since their parents died five years ago. (Y/n) graduated from high school two years early with honours and got scholarships to basically any Ivy League schools. She had a hard time deciding but eventually chose to go to Princeton.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows at that. He figured you were smart, but not Ivy League smart.

“She was interested in Civil and Environmental Engineering, Evolutionary Biology, Sociology, and Soulmate Studies. Spent nearly a decade learning at Princeton, got 2 Ph.D’s and is on her way to her third.”

Bucky’s silent for a moment as he processes this. “So... Doctor (Y/l/n), huh? And no connections to anyone? Not even a best friend?”

Steve scratches the nape of his neck and sighs. “I talked to some of her co-workers. They all had generally the same story.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Bucky asks impatiently.

“That Rumlow was against her having friends. They all essentially said that whenever he came in and saw her talking to any of her coworkers he’d have a fit. Some say she’d come to work the next day and have a hard time lifting things or would appear to be in pain when she moved.”

They’re both quiet.

“So he was beating her, you think?” Steve shrugs, then sighs. “It would make sense as to why she called the cops. But I can’t confirm nor deny anything till we have her statement, which we will get.”

“So let’s try to create a hypothetical situation here,” Bucky begins, pacing the soundproof room slowly.

“Rumlow’s been beating (Y/n) for... their whole relationship. One day she snaps? Gets fed up and fights back harder than either of them thought?” Steve purses his lips. “Maybe Brock took it too far. I mean, any abuse is too much abuse, but what if it went beyond that? What if he wanted to do more than just hurt her.”

Bucky freezes and turns to Steve. “You think... you think he tried to kill her? Why? Why would he even do that? They’ve been together for how many years?”

Steve sighs, “Three and a half. But I mean, maybe he was going off the rails a bit. Closer to the end there he was getting a little more antsy.”

“I think you’re grasping at straws here, Steve. When you get her statement then you can decide whose side you’re on, but until then she’s still a murderer. And she still needs to be brought in, no matter what may have happened.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “I realize that, I just don’t want to rule out the idea that it was self-defence.” Bucky nods, plopping down in the desk chair. “I’m not ruling out anything. Hell, I can’t rule out anything cause I’ve got nothing but fucking ideas to go off of.”

“But ideas are better than nothing. And we don’t have nothing. We have what her coworkers told us. We have the pictures of the crime scene. We have the autopsy, and we have... general knowledge of where (Y/n) is. I say we grab some coffees, grab the pictures of the crime scene and come up with a few plausible scenarios.”

Bucky feels his lips twitch upwards at the suggestion.

“If you’re trying to bring back old memories to put me in a better mood... fuck you cause it’s working.” The two share a laugh and Steve stands up, shaking his arms out.

“I’ll be back with the pictures and the coffee. You clear your desk of anything not related to this case. And maybe order a pizza or something. I have a feeling we’re gonna be here for a little while.” Bucky looks at his watch then nods.

19:47

“Yeah, You’re right. But I start working evenings tomorrow, so I’m going home to sleep no later than four, alright?” The captain salutes his friend then leaves the room to gather the supplies.

Bucky orders the pizza then clears off his desk as Steve asked, trying to get himself into the correct mindset.

The crime scene photos are... interesting to say the least.

"The whole apartment is trashed. Like they were fighting in different rooms,” Steve notes around a mouthful of pepperoni pizza.

Bucky inspects the pictures carefully, the one from the bedroom holding his attention.

“Okay, give me a story for this one,” he says while pushing the picture in front of Steve.

“Well... blood on the bed... could be her period?” Bucky scrunches up his nose, not liking that possibility. “I’m no expert, but I don’t think women bleed that much.” He has a point, the white bed is soaked in bright red blood, much more than could be from menstruation.

“Okay.... One of them is asleep on the bed and the other comes at them with a knife? Hits them but they don’t die. So person one with the knife picks up the pillow and tries to suffocate person two. Person two finds the knife, grabs it, and stabs person one somewhere then runs out of the room.” Steve points to the trail of blood leading out of the bedroom and Bucky nods.

“Person one follows person two out of the room and person two throws a vase at them. Person one tries to stab person two again with a shard of the vase but person two...” Steve trails off, trying to picture what could’ve gone on in the living room of the apartment.

“Most of the vase shards are by the doorway to the bedroom except for one. And it’s bloody. So person two must’ve been stabbed a second time unless person two grabbed the shard and stabbed person one. Fuck, where are all those papers with the DNA tests? If we know whose blood is on which items it’ll be a shit ton easier to figure this out.”

“Last I heard Pierce had the papers, and he wasn’t letting them go,” Steve informs. Bucky curses under his breath and takes another sip of his coffee.

“Is he here tonight?” Steve’s eyes widen as he realizes what Bucky’s gonna try to do.

“He’s working all week. Next Monday though he starts a four-day weekend. Has his granddaughters dance recital. So then it’ll be safe to get what you want.” Bucky groans and throws his empty coffee cup at the wall, frowning as the paper cup bounces to the floor.

“We could have things to go off of, but instead we’re stuck guessing. But that’s fine, it doesn’t matter. Back to business. I’m gonna read over the autopsy again and I’ll tell you what I hypothesized happened.”

Bucky picks up the document and starts reading thoroughly.

‘MANNER OF DEATH: Homicide.

CAUSE OF DEATH: Exsanguination due to multiple stab wounds. (trunk and lower extremities)

FINDINGS: 1. Generalized pallor and evidence of exsanguination. 2. Multiple stab and incised wounds of trunk, lower extremities with one (1) stab wound penetrating right back into chest cavity; two (2) stab wounds penetrating right thigh; and another single (1) stab wound at lateral right chest penetrating into right lung. 3. A few other minor blunt-force injuries of head and trunk.

LABORATORY RESULTS:

TOXICOLOGY:

1. Blood: a. Ethanol: 0.16 gm%. b. Drugs: Cocaine present at less than 0.1 ug/ml; cocaethylene present at 0.2 ug/ml; quantity not sufficient for further examination. Lysergic Acid present at 1296 ug/ml. Further examination required.

2. Urine: Positive for cocaine, cocaine metabolite (ecgonine methyl ester), and cocaethylene, with negative EMIT barbiturates screen.

3. Ocular fluid: Ethanol, 0.16 gm%.

Bucky puts the paper down and rubs his eyes for a moment.

“Rumlow was on drugs?”

Steve looks up at that then snatches the papers away from Bucky, skimming over the words then raising his eyebrows.

“Shit. He was. And not a small amount either, it seems. What the Hell... he didn’t do LSD... this is some other drug with Lysergic Acid. It has to be. But what the fuck drug would he be on? Especially when he had work that day.”

The two sit in silence, a bad feeling washing over them. “Was she ever involved in any Chemistry? Would she have been trying to develop a new drug and tested it on him?” Steve shakes his head, picking up a different file, one with your picture on the front of it.

“Nothing besides high school chemistry and a few labs for Biology. She never would’ve worked with this stuff.” Bucky groans deeply then picks up the autopsy again. “It says here that one of the stab wounds on his leg was one inch wide and half an inch deep. The knife we found at the apartment was two inches wide and six inches long. So I’m gonna guess that she stabbed him with a shard of the vase.”

Steve nods at that and sighs. “Well, what else?”

Bucky tosses the autopsy onto the desk and puts his face in his hands.

“Person one stabs person two in the bedroom. Person two stabs person one back. Person one tries to suffocate person two but person two gets away and throws the vase at person one. Person one grabs a shard and attacks person two. They fight physically for a while until one of them eventually gets stabbed twice in the chest, thus killing them.” Steve nibbles his bottom lip for a moment then shakes his head. “This would be so much easier if we knew what her injuries were... are. Because she couldn’t have possible escaped unscathed. Hell, I’m kinda surprised she escaped at all.” Bucky nods, grabbing another piece of pizza and starting to read a different paper, hoping it’ll give him any evidence he needs to move further with this case.

Bucky heads home at three, having a hard time keeping his eyes open after over 36 hours of non-stop working.

He unlocks the door to his house and pushes inside, closing and locking the door behind himself then walking to the couch. He plops down and closes his eyes, tempted to fall asleep in his uniform right then and there.

Slowly he opens his eyes, something about his home not feeling right.

Taking a deep breath, he furrows his brows.

It smells like chemicals.

Instinctively he grabs his gun, switching off the safety and moving silently around the main floor of his house.

His heart is beating quickly in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He moves to search the second floor, eyes alert and looking for anything that may be out of place. Every single room he searches is empty and the exact same as he left if before leaving for work whichever day he left.

That leaves only the basement.

~*~

A door squeaking wakes you from your light sleep and you open your eyes, fear filling you as you hear someone take slow steps down the stairs.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you move as far away from the stairs as you can get, finding yourself cornered by a locked window.

It takes you a moment to work up the courage to try the lock and when you do, you thank your lucky stars.

It slides silently out of place, the window pushing out with a soft ‘pop’. You bounce a few times to gain momentum and right as you’re about to jump, a booming voice shouts at you.

“Hey! Get the fuck down from there, raise your arms above your head!”

The voice makes you shiver and you slowly raise your arms, head falling down in defeat.

“Turn around slowly. Keep your hands up.” You do as he demands, your right leg burning.

“Lift your head up.” You reluctantly do so, your breath leaving you as you see the man.

You focus on his gun for a moment then move to his face, hating him immediately.

He’s absolutely gorgeous. Deep, enticing icy blue eyes; a jaw carved by Michelangelo himself, which is covered in a scruffy beard; brown hair falling out of a man bun and framing his perfect face.

Fuck this attractive man for pointing a gun at your chest. Fuck him for looking like a fucking Adonis while wearing a godforsaken police uniform. Fuck yourself for choosing his house to hide in.

You can’t think of anything else, your world blurring and spinning due to anxiety and blood loss. You drop your arms despite his words and try to steady yourself. It’s no use, however, because in an instant you’re falling to the ground and the world is going black.

~*~

Bucky stares in shock as you lie unmoving on the ground, your chest moving steadily but your eyes closed.

He puts his gun away against his better judgement and pushes your hair out of your face, staring at you for a few more moments.

You’re absolutely breathtaking. So much more beautiful than the pictures he’s seen. And you're right here. The last, biggest piece of this puzzle is in his basement.

But for some dumb reason, he doesn’t want to turn you in just yet. A selfish part of him wants to hear your side of things before he brings you to the station where you’ll be questioned and treated like garbage. As far as the majority of the station is concerned, you’re a coldhearted killer. Your fate is sealed there.

He slaps your face twice lightly, looking for any kind of twitch. When he doesn’t see any he scoops you up in his arms and walks upstairs. He puts you into the bathtub and cuffs your hands behind your back, his eyes finding the wound on your calf.

He reaches for it instinctively, wanting to make it better, then rips his hand back. He stares at his own hands in shock and disgust before getting up and walking out of the bathroom, locking the door on the way out.

He heads upstairs and closes and locks his door, desperate for a shower and a chance to clear his mind.

Kicking off his boots, pants, and utility belt, he starts calming down a bit. Making sure to lock his gun away and bringing the key into the bathroom with him.

He turns the water on hot and lets it run for a few moments, undressing all the way then stepping under the water and letting it soothe his muscles. A soft groan leaves his mouth, and he can’t help but think about you.

His mind conjures up the image of you, shirt clinging to your body after your swim earlier, showcasing curves that weren’t documented in any file. He hisses at himself and shakes his head hard, trying to shake the thoughts of you away.

He finishes his shower quickly, feeling more relaxed than he would’ve thought, and gets changed into some sweats and a tight black t-shirt. He lies down on the bed and takes a deep breath, body and mind ready for at least a few hours of sleep before he goes and deals with the stressful issue in the bathroom.

The problem that seems to be occupying his thoughts in a way he really didn't think was possible.

~*~

TAGS:

FOREVER:

@smolbeanbucky @wildefire @inumorph @impalatobakerstreet @nanna022 @mummy-woves-you @m-a-t-91 @wtfholland @bookgirlunicorn @beautifulwisdom2001 @deep-sea-glitter @mrhiddles-81 @iamwarrenspeace @bitchacho25 @escapetheshackles

MARVEL:

@fallenangelfangirl @look-to-the-stars-and-wish @maladaptive-ninja-returns @cliffordasparagus @april-14-blog

BUCKY:

@chuuulip @buckyssoul @nerd-without-a-cause @natashasnight

WICKED GAMES:

@lilypalmer1987 @bisexualfangirlsblog @i-am-always-famished @clarysthing @starkxpotts @e-wolf-98 @i-run-on-green-tea @nerd-without-a-cause @jamesbuckybarnes13 @theonelittleone @bradfordsgreekgod @littledeadrottinghood @ashlebetty @izhetbean @mu-mu-rs @bruisedfaye @bisoueffleurer

#Bucky x reader #Bucky barnes x reader #cop!bucky x reader #cop bucky x reader #soulmate au #bucky x reader soulmate #bucky x reader au #bucky x reader soulmate au

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bucky-is-a-hero-fightme · 6 years

Text

The Naked Interview

Pairing: Sebastian Stan/Latina!Reader(f)

Summary: Sebastian and Y/N are introduced to a new format of interviewing as they go on the press tour of their incoming movie. The interview will bring out old feelings and ask the questions they didn’t dare ask themselves.

(My summaries suck.)

Word Count: 4100 approx.

Warnings: none, I think. Though if you don’t wanna be spoiled about Manuela Sáenz life, you should read Pamela S. Murray’s Biography of her (personal recommendation, there’s thousands out there hehe)

Guide: Italics is for flashbacks or Spanish/Romanian. If you know my work from AO3, you know I’m a sucker for flashbacks and languages, so...heyy :)

A/N: This is my first RPF work, and I feel weird about it. Idk. I like it, I really do, and the idea has been going around in my head for weeks now. I just feel weird writing about real people. Welp, here I go hehe.

Also: Tere’s social media posts made for this fic, to set the background and a little bit of fluffy history btw the characters. CHECK IT OUT HERE

Big thanks to @marvelousfakesocialmedia for doing the posts for this fic!! Check out their work, is great!

You are shown into the private room by a girl from the staff, opening the door to reveal a pretty simple set-up, looking more like a living room than an interview set. You shake away the imbalance that gives you, walking inside with a big smile. The 'stage' smile.

“Well, well,” You muse as you walk towards Sebastian and the interviewer, “When my agent called and told me I had to do a Naked Interview with Sebastian Stan this was definitely not what I had in mind.”

The blonde that was seconds ago looking through her papers and notes before starting to interview you rose her gaze to you with a sly smile. Reporter through and through.

You knew the cameras would be on, your publicist had warned you about it. This paper was going for 'authenticity' and apparently this interview was all about that, including every dirty trick in the book.

“Disappointed?” She asked, to which you answered by simply waving your hand and pointing at Sebastian's whole body.

“Yes.” You dramatically intoned, prompting them both to laugh.

They start the interview with the usual greetings, no mentions of your past relationship, for which you thank whoever is ready to listen.

The questions are simple enough, what you are used to by now, having been promoting this movie for two weeks by now. She goes back and forth between you and Sebastian, asking very superficial questions.

The interviewer turns your way, asking about your experience as this is your first time being cast as the main role in a big movie, to which you smile and nod, quipping in about how weird it was to see your face looking so big in the posters. She laughs a little in response, before congratulating you and Sebastian for the movie and wishing you success. The cameras are turned off, as you smile in thanks, still feeling this was too short and you did not feel at all the 'authenticity' they were looking for.

But then the blonde gets up, and is handled a small wooden box that you are quite familiar with.

“Oh, is that a prop?” You ask excitedly, before turning to Sebastian with a big smile on your face, “Seba, is the letter box!”

You try not to notice the way your heart skips a bit when he returns your smile with one of his own, his eyes shining a bit more under the light as the creases around them get deeper.

The interviewer clears his throat, effectively calling back your attention, and giving the box to you.

“Yes. Considering how sentimental and authentic were the letters that were kept in Manuela's original box, and how it was replicated by your team so it could mean just as much in the big screen, we decided to add a little symbolism to the second part of our interview.”

“Second part?” Sebastian asks, still watching you from the corner of his eye as you trace your fingers over the ridges and markings on the letter box.

The producer steps ahead, “Yes. We told you we are aiming for authenticity here, so we have saved a bunch of fan's usernames in the box, that you will take out. A video of their question will play on the monitor, and you have to answer. You will be left alone in the room with the cameramen, no mediator this time.”

“Oh,” You mumble, habit winning over logic as you meet your eyes with that of your ex-boyfriend. You can sense his apprehension, and you feel quite insecure about this yourself. But you still smile, turning to the producer, “Does the 'naked' mean I have to take something off if I don't want to answer? 'Cause I'm down for that. Don't know about my agent though.”

You were arranged in front of one another on the couches, two wooden boxes between you, one for your questions and another for his, and the set almost empty. It felt strange, it felt like an intervention or a forced therapy session. It felt strange, all in all.

“Should I start?” Sebastian asked, crinkling his nose a little, visibly uncomfortable.

You smiled, and nodded, “Please.”

Why does this feel so formal? It feels like I'm talking to my cousin's childhood-friend's doctor, and not the man I dated for almost two years.

You watched as he rummaged through the little papers inside his box, taking one and reading aloud the name.

A young boy, around his late teens, smiled at the camera as a Mexican flag decorated his background. You immediately smiled widely, even though he would not see until the interview was released.

He cleared his throat and asked, “Y/N, how did it feel portraying a character of Latin American independence when you are Hispanic but left Latin America?”

You blinked, trying to keep up the smile,

“Woah, the surely don't start soft, do they?”

Sebastian smiled at you softly, and you would've sworn you saw his arm stretched towards you from the corner of your eye, before he pulled it back, “You don't have to answer.”

“Seba, you don't have any say in it,” You laughed, and took a deep breath before starting to explain how incredibly humbling it was to take on her mantle and play such a strong woman and someone who was such a symbol to the independence of not only your country and so many others, but also women in general. You went on a little about how you felt a lot closer to home while filming, considering the Latino cast and the closeness you felt to your character as a Latina away from home yourself.

It felt odd, doing an interview like this. As you were seated one in front of the other, and aside from the fans popping in and out of the monitor screen, you were all alone. It felt as if you were confessing all these personal feelings about your past and your character to him and not an audience.

Oh...good tactic, Naked Interview people.

Drinking a bit of water to dissolve the knot in your throat, you rose your eyebrows in Seb's direction.

“Your turn,” You teased, hand already inside your box, “And it better make you cry or I'm out.”

He laughed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he crossed his fingers together. When you stopped what you were doing to ogle at him, you don't remember.

“Just read the name, Y/N.”

“Okay, okay. Don't rush perfection,” You mumbled, taking out the piece of paper, “Sebastian, here is your user.”

A dark-haired woman around her mid-thirties smiled at the camera and asked, “Sebastian, do you feel James Thorne was a redeemable man?”

You saw him frown slightly as the air left his lungs in a huff, and he rubbed his hands together before answering.

You had been pretending for months now that everything was alright, that there was no awkwardness,no lingering feelings. It was more tiring than you thought it would be.

But there's this little whisper of what used to be, stuck in your head every time you film a scene together, everytime you wrap up filming for the day or the week and a sudden part of you forgets that your routine no longer includes him.

This little voice whispers, everytime you discuss a portion of the script with one of your castmates or anyone on the staff or production; about the long nights spent going over the initial script, stretched out on the couch of your apartment, your legs set over your lap as his hand runs absently over your calf; or his back to your chest, chestnut locks running like water between your fingers as you tell him about what you remember of Independence celebrations in your country.

That little voice reminds you of the hours spent talking about James' and Manuela's relationship as you readied yourselves to sign the contract for the biopic, of the day you decided to read what was left of all her letters to him and to Simon and from them to her, and cried about how someone with such a good heart could lose everything because of people sitting in thrones on the other side of the ocean; and then Seba's teasing

about how you said in your half-asleep state that Manuela was your Batman, not the hero you deserved but the one you needed.

You ignore that voice, that faded image of something that slipped from your fingers. You ignore it, you focus on work. You pretend not to feel anything else.

Because that voice also reminds you of how you decided not to fight for him anymore. About how you were the one to ask for some time away from each other, about how you were the one to say goodbye finally and definitely once the world decided to start telling you what your relationship was all about.

“He...he fell in love with her, I think. It was an arranged marriage, and he was so much older than her, but there had to be some semblance of love in him to turn a blind eye to the fact that she was smuggling secrets with her lover. There's even several letters, some of them made it to the film, that reveal how he begged her to come back to him, and her insistence that what she wanted of him was a friend, that she loved Simón and the revolution more than...” He trailed off, thinking of the words in Spanish, and a proud smile curved your lips.

“Su querido inglés,” You provided, and nodded at Sebastian when he pointed at his own box, ready to ask you your next question.

A few more questions were asked about the film, touching on Manuela and James' relationship, Manuela's work as a women's rights activist, and your feelings towards your characters.

You had been assured by your agent that the interview was known to be quite long, and that maybe some questions would be edited out, so you weren't worried about the time at all. You reached for Sebastian's user to question him, and before reading it out loud, you leaned back on the couch, musing out loud,

“You know, it's weird no questions about our relationship have come up.”

You laughed a little under your breath when he choked up and coughed a couple of times, eyeing you with a smirk that told him how he knew you were messing with him.

A girl popped up on the screen, big smile on her face.

“Hey guys. Personal question,” She started, and Sebastian pointed at you with a smile that made the lines around his eyes more prominent.

“You jinxed it.” He accused, to which you replied by scrunching your nose and sticking out your tongue in defiance.

The girl continued, “How did it feel, working together as close as you did, after you broke up?”

“Well, that isn't intrusive at all.” You mumbled, taking a sip of your water.

The actor before you ran a hand through his hair and looked up at you with an uncomfortable smile on his face.

“Weird. Once we started playing the character of course none of whatever happened between us matters. But, it was strange at the beginning. Like, I don't either of us knew where to stand,”

He thought the next part of his answer for a couple of seconds before blurting out, surprising you, and, you assume, giving both of your agents a heart attack.

“We didn't actually break up,” He confessed, grimacing after hearing his own words. “I mean, we are not together, but...we never said the words, did we?,” He looked at you, expecting a response, you nodded slowly. Sebastian sighed, before continuing, “It's...complicated.”

You dropped your bag by the floor next to the hotter room door, rubbing a hand over your eyes before cursing at yourself for smearing makeup all over your eyes.

With a sigh, you walked towards the bathroom, taking the clothes you readied before going out to film, and grabbing your cell-phone on the way there.

It felt odd, unbalancing, to put an end to your day without talking to Seba, but you two had agreed to take some time off to keep the strain of your busy work lives away from your relationship. Still going from talking each night, for at least a few seconds and rushed 'I-love-you's; to not being able to talk at all, it was taking a toll on you.

You only hoped to come out stronger from all of this.

It was only less than two months when the news started appearing, everywhere. Rumors about the break-up, opinions thrown left and right about why 'Marvel's golden couple' would break it off.

And the person you talked about your relationship with at the end, was not him, but your agent. You explained her the whole thing, and though as a friend she told you to reach out to Sebastian and talk to him, to work out together what your relationship had come to; as a publicist she told you waiting for everything to cool down was the best way to go.

And a couple of months of no talking became two more, and when a small and simple message from him, asking to meet up to talk about...everything; you swallowed past the part of you that told you to fight for it, and the instinct to get away before you got hurt won.

You still remembered the last argument. The tears, the resentment and the will to keep fighting but the need to give up. You knew you weren't strong enough to go through it again.

I think we both made our choice a while ago, Seba.

The reply was instantaneous. A call you rejected and a single message after it.

Do you really mean that?

You never answered. PR handled the rest, and when you got asked about your relationship by a passer-by reporter on one of your outings with Lizzie, you smiled and said breaking up was for the best.

“Yeah...complicated.” You repeated, thrumming your fingers on your dress-covered legs, before signaling for Sebastian to ask you your question.

A heartfelt question about the reaction of your country and the film community in it to have you represent such an important Latina all the way in Hollywood, that you answered with a big smile, but pausing to drink water a couple of times to swallow past the know on your throat. Again.

The pixie-looking person that asked Sebastian the next question smiled widely as they waved at the camera, and told you they had been a fan of both you and Seb since you performed together in Civil War.

Placing a strand of short hair behind their ear, they asked, “So how different is the cast from the Marvel family? Are you all close or is it more like everyone goes their way?”

Sebastian laughed and shook his head,

“It can't be each on their own. If I'm left alone in any country we are filming in, I get lost in the first five seconds.”

You leaned forward with an expressive,

“Yes! You have no idea how many times I have thought I had to call your mom to tell her I lost her impressionable son because he wouldn't stay still and can't talk Spanish to save his life.”

“And despite the possibility of losing me in the middle of Guadalajara or somewhere else, it's still a great group of people to work with,” He continued, “It became a really close group as the months went by.”

You had been doing great. Manuela's story had drawn you in completely, and considering most days the shooting was wrapped up pretty late, time to consider your situation was not really available. Which you thanked the heavens for.

But then the first day filming Manuela's fight scene against the assassins comes, and yes, the nerves are again curling at your stomach, because jumping from a balcony, no matter how many stunts you pulled in your time with Marvel, never gets less terrifying.

But then you saw Sebastian along with who is supposed to play Simón and his stunt double, smiling in his normal clothes like he was supposed to be there.

“Hey,” You approached, easy smile on your face. “I thought James' scenes were done for?”

Sebastian loweeds his gaze to the floor for a second, strained smile on his lips, and you felt a spark of...doesn't matter what.

“Yeah, they are. But I heard you were doing the fight scene today and I thought...maybe I could come here and offer support?”

The young man in the Libertador outfit smiled at your ex-boyfriend, clapping a hand on his shoulder,

“You mean another one to worry about our girl busting her ass on the fall?” He teased, and if it weren't for how the hopeful part of you, the eternal romantic still somewhere inside you replaying Sebastian's words, you would have risen to the bait.

Because you remembered the long days at the studio, Domino's costume on and muscles aching. You remembered Seba's easy smile, your complaints about how he was only there to see you get your ass beat by Chadwick. You remembered his reassurance that he only wanted to see you were safe, and the soft press of lips against your own.

You remembered your first date being on his trailer in between shots, a bag of ice on your knee and a busted lip smiling his way when he told you he couldn't wait another day to take you out, even if it was the day you miscalculated the force of Black Panther's double's hits.

You heard him laugh, but you were still trying to quieten your heart and tell it to stop hoping.

“Well, she has always been prone to accidents.”

A couple more about how you got along on set with everyone else, one or two about the reality behind the letters and documents shown in the movie, when the cameramen told you that you could wrap up after one or two more.

Another fan with a question for you, this time a young girl with blonde air smiling shyly at the camera.

“So...hi, didn't think I was gonna win actually,” She giggled, and you smiled in understanding. Again, even though they could not see it. “So here's my question. Sorry. How different was it going from filming for Marvel for so long while you were together and then filming this? Sorry.”

Memories clouded your mind, of the days before work became too much, before life became too much and hanging onto one another was more of an obligation than a decision.

Those memories took over you, making your heart race and too many pieces of advice, from friends, colleagues, the people handling this movie and even the people handling your fucking relationship repeat themselves in your head. About smiling politely when asked a rude question about the breakup, about keeping calm when receiving horrible backlash from your own fans because your life can't be only your own, about telling everyone, even yourself, that it was the best for the both of you.

But you were tired of that. You were tired of the 'stage smile', of having lost one of the best people you have met since leaving home chasing a dream, of pretending the only emotions you are in touch with are fictional characters'.

So you took a deep breath, and started.

“It was different, no use in lying. The first and only movie I filmed with Seba as while we just started to fall in love, and we decided when we were already living together to take on this movie. The fact that life fell apart around us in between was a...casualty we didn't account for.

You cleared your throat, and lowered your eyes to your hands. For an instant, you waited for Sebastian to chip in, say something agreeing with you and giving you the out of ending the answer. He didn't, so you went on.

“It was jarring at first, wrapping up, getting ready to go home or to the hotel or whatever and not having him next to me, having him to talk to about our day and what we thought about everything and nothing. I mean...there was a lot, I think, that I took for granted, or didn't account for, and only realized it was gone when...well when it was gone.”

You sniffed a little, running your hands gently under your eyes to get rid of the tears before they kept falling down your cheeks.

You breathed a laugh at yourself as you pat with your fingers against your skin, trying to even out the make up the tears erased. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you mumbled, “And now I'm crying on the internet. Great day, Y/N.

You turned your eyes to Seb, smiling a little his way.

“Most people don't have to spend every day with the person they broke up with for months so shortly after they split up, not even in our industry I think. And I guess it hurt more than I let on. But I wouldn't trade working alongside you for the world, Seba.” You assured him your smile turning surer, more even, as your heart settled back into your chest.

He smiled back your way and extends his hand. Without hesitation, you took it, squeezing once and ready to let go after that, but he seemed to hold on to it.

“I know. I also want you, and whoever is going to watch this mess, to know that you are one of the best people I've met. You are amazingly talented, and I am lucky to be working with you. I am even more lucky to one day have been someone you decided to love, and I want you to remember that.

When he choked up a little, stopping whatever he had started to say, you squeezed his hand and let your eyes find his through the mist of your own tears.

He continued, “You...whatever didn't work between us doesn't matter. We were happy once, and I think we should remember that. I loved you and I think I always will, and I want nothing more than you being happy, because you deserve it.

You paid attention to the slight movement of his jaw, and almost two years together told you he was about to cry too. You squeezed his hand again.

“And I know I can be a lot to handle most of the time, and I want you to kn...” You couldn't handle it anymore, you were seeing every insecurity he had about your relationship, his job and your life together resurface and you couldn't believe you thought for all those months hthat e was okay with all that happened between you and how things ended.

“Seba, no...”

You reached to stand up when you felt the wire of the microphone on your back, and you remembered where you were. Turning to the cameraman, you said, “Excuse me, can you cu-...”

But they weren't there. They had been the only thing left of the team for the interview, but they were long gone from the set. Frowning, you turned to Sebastian, only to see him still sitting on his side of the couch, heel of his hand pressing against his eye, the other one still holding on tightly to yours.

At your confused expression, he shrugged and explained, “I asked them to go when you started tearing up. I know you don't like people seeing you cry.

You huffed something between a laugh and a sob, and started shaking your head. This only seemed to set him on edge, instead of letting him know you were thankful for his thoughtfulness. Sebastian wrapped his other hand over the one he was already holding, tugging you a little closer.

With you standing up, he had to look up to have his eyes meet yours.

“Listen, I'm sorry I'm telling you all of this now, but the tour is almost over, and I know I should've said something before but I don't wanna lose-...mfph.”

You stopped his rant by throwing your arms around his shoulders, hiding your wet face in the crook of his neck,

“I know, Seba, I know.”

His arms wrapped around your waist and back, holding you close, and you felt as if you were taking the first unobstructed breaths oi months.

After a few minutes, you broke apart and you reached up to straighten the collar of his shirt with a smile as one of his hands still lingered on your waist.

“So...” You mused, eyes glued to the piece of clothing you pretended you want to fix, “What do you say about coffee?”

I’m sorry. I know it is kinda long and not at all that good, hehe. But thank you for reading! And please let me know what you think, even if it is to tell me you didn’t like it/why. Thank you! Love, Luce.

If you liked it please leave any sort of review, even if it is just a comment on anon or smth. I wanna know if I should write more of these, how to improve, anything. Thank you.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #rpf fanfiction #mcu rpf #fanfiction

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throbbing-illusion-blog · 6 years

Text

Quirk Time ‘Flower Poisoner’

Here I go again, with a Quirk AND a character. She doesn’t have a name yet and I don’t think I’ll give her one at all in fact. I just dreamt about her yesterday and drew her today. Anyway. First, the Quirk: It is a really powerful quirk, which is meant to be powerful. The base is simple: one’s create flowers. To be more specific, lilies. Lilies can wear different colors, and the creator can create as much lilies as he wants. BUT. He can only create lilies of the same color at a time. If he’s creating blue lilies, he won’t be able to create pink ones until he wither off the blue ones.

Each color of lily have his specificity: blue will slow down one’s heart rate, making his blood (It can reduce anxiety as well as pressure or making one have a bradycardia; limit bleeding from a deep wound for a little while, etc.)

On the contrary, red speed up one’s heart rate (which can lead to a tachycardia or making some poison run faster in one’s body, etc.)

Other examples are:

- Yellow: paralisis - Orange: Burn - Green: heal - etc

Combine those effects is nearly impossible, but accumulate them is entirely possible.

Here have a Lily.

One lily only affect a member, not a whole body. For exemple: A red lily have been planted in one’s hand. The hand won’t stop shaking because of the pressure that the heart can’t dyke up. But the forearm will be free from this pressure. Another example: A thigh have been touched by a Yellow lily. It is paralised. But calf and foot can move on their own.

Though, creating those flowers has a side effect: the creator’s body start to see its skin covered with lilies (white maybe? idk). The more are covering a member, the less the creator can use this member. In the worse cases, heart, lungs or brain can be touched, cease to function and cause death.

Sleep vanish them though.

On those goods notes, here is the lady:

Like Todoroki, she’s born from a breeding wedding. Her family improves her quirk since the first appearance of quirks. The panel of colors she has in her lilies is proportional to the quirks that have been mixed with her family’s.

Since she was born, she was hoped to be the one. And she was -a miracle being she was their first attempt. As a toddler, she was looked up in her house, though as it was huge, she didn’t question anything. She couldn’t see outside, and new people came to see her now and then so she couldn’t feel like her lifestyle was strange. Not at seven years old at least. That’s when she met her fiancé. Strong quirk for a poor boy, he was sold by his parents. Or rather his quirk was instead of his body. They grow up together, but couldn’t understand eachother. He would told her about his dream of being a hero, she would ask “what is a dream”? He would answer, ‘something you’d love to do with all your heart’ and the only thing she could think of would be her mother’s pride when she’s better than anyone else.

And so her “dream” was to become number one Hero. Not because she wanted to save people. Not because her Mother wanted her to be famous. Not because it was her fiancé’s dream too. But because it was the only thing she knew. She heard from several people that heroes where the real deal, and she was trained to be strong.

If she didn’t choose this path, her Father would have sent her to fight against heroes, as a villain. But she never really understand the point of evildoing. She felt closer to save than to hurt.

She seems to be superior and to not care about anyone but in reality is really lost. She always did as she was told, and now that she’s alone she can’t really find a place where she fit right in.

When she speaks, she acts as if her parents told her to say so. “Father thinks you’re a weakass”. “I’m sorry but Mother told me to not speak to commoner”. “Mother didn’t explain to me what ‘friends’ is, are you lying to me?”

A little like this Todoroki headcanon, she won’t understand any meme or reference. Though unlike Todoroki, she will be dead blunt with the fact that it doesn’t make any sense and so the person who told her that must be stupid.

For this and many other strange behavior from her, her superiority won’t be taken seriously for long. Like Bakugo’s behavior had been handle fast, 1-A beginning to make fun of him really quirk, she will have the same treatment. She will also be pity. Because, y’know “What’s friends?”. That’s sad. Really sad.

Random fact: Her fiancé is at Shiketsu. During the provisional licence exam, they fought. Or rather they kissed and she just push the balls on the target lightly. He’s kind of a dork since he’s at Shinketsu and was over dramatic for his loss so she didn’t knew what to do anymore. That’s how his comrades got her. Yep, lady looses (But if not here it would have been on the rescue, because she would not have spoke enough with her comrades and victims. A no-no.)

Did I say that she doesn’t speak until someone speak to her? Because she does. And it can be frustrating. Aaaand that’s about it. I think. Her Fiancé is a mere picture in my head so… Maybe later? Who knows. Here have a drawing. (I really like this one, even if he got boy shoulders. I need to draw more woman god. I need to draw more. )

#bnha #oc #Quirk #Minor spoilers

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gentlemanmendes · 6 years

Text

Dead Air

In my half asleep state I walk to the car trying to keep my eyes closed so I can get more rest in the car, I'm one of those people that once they wake up that is it, there is no hope of going back to sleep until night. It doesn't help that I am also one of those people that are incredibly moody when they don't get enough sleep. I had slept in a pair of addidas sweat pants and a black crop top so I wouldn't have to get dressed in the morning plus my parents would never let me leave the house in my pyjamas.

When I reach the car my sister is already seated in the back seat, head rested against the window as she two tries to fall back asleep, the only difference is she has no trouble sleeping. Unlike me she could sleep through a hurricane and wake up happily once it was over without realizing anything had happened.

The plan was two go away for the next two weeks to celebrate my eighteenth as well as my parents twentieth anniversary, how they managed to stay together for twenty years and still be happy beats me, I would have probably gotten sick of someone after two weeks of being married. I haven't turned eighteen yet but being the oldest child and becoming legal was apparently a big deal to my parents. The next two weeks will be spent at my Grandparents old lake house which is apparently where my parents met when my dad was working for my grandpa as the gardener to earn some extra cash. At just eighteen they met and fell in love, two years later had their first child and got married. Of course everyone thought they were crazy for getting married so young but they didn't really care. My sister found it cute and in a way I did too but I don't think I would get married to someone after just two years of knowing them, even if I had a kid with them. There is no doubt we will be told this story again on the way which is why I am so desperate to fall asleep now.

The last time I was in that house was when I was twelve, the last summer before my Grandparents passed away, my parents had decided to share the information that I had been conceived there. Of course at the time I didn't know what that meant but once I sat through high school health classes I put two and two together. My parents also decided that they wanted to make one more trip back to my grandparents lake house before they sold it. Being the only child my mother inherited everything but after nearly six years of hardly ever visiting my mum decided it was best to sell the house, they also needed the money if I was going to go to a decent college.

Dawn River, the town closest to my grandparents lake house, was a small sad town with mainly old people living there. Everything from the shops to the cinema seemed to belong in a classic sixties movie, even the structure of the houses and decoration inside of them.

When I get into the car River, my sixteen year old sister, gives me a slight glance before letting out a giggle. She is no doubt laughing at the fact that I had taken my mother's blind folds and half covered my eyes so the blinding sunrise doesn't wake me more.

To top off all the romantic crap my parents named us after the town they met in. Thankfully me being born first I got the more decent name, Dawn, as for my sister she got stuck with River. As a child she hated it and would force everyone to call her Ree but as she's grown up I think she has secretly begun to like it. Besides it does match her down to earth personality and natural beauty with wide brown eyes, sun kissed skin thanks to all the time she spends outside, and messy brown waves that she can never be bothered brushing but she just seems to pull it all off. I on the other hand try my hardest and still can't be as pretty as her. We do look alike except for the fact that my skin is pale compared to hers considering I spend all my time locked away in my room and leaving my hair knotty the way she does would probably frustrate me enough to take a pair of scissors to my hair and cut it all off.

We didn't stop once on the way, we never did in the past either. The only time my dad would finally stop would be when we needed to pee so badly that we couldn't hold it in anymore. Mum always packed food for the drive, she usually packed fruits and healthy snacks but dad got so sick of our complaining that he began buying crisps and candy the day before we left so he wouldn't be forced to pull over once he got sick of our whining. They had prepared for everything, made sure the car was filled with fuel, that the battery was working just fine, all the tires filled with air and a spare just in case, anything to make sure that this trip didn't go wrong.

After four hours of trying to sleep, I gave up. As I looked over at River, my legs resting on her lap, I notice that she has as well seeing how she is reading her latest romance novel. I would ask to read it after her but don't because not only do I hate romance novels with a burning passion but because she will tell me every single detail of the damn book when she is done, even if I bluntly tell her I don't care. It's just the way River is. Though we do share a love for books we just don't share any books, I tend to stay as far away from the romance or cheesy teen novels as much as I can. I prefer the fantasy stuff that keeps you guessing what will happen next, not the typical romance where they fall madly in love and live happily ever after.

My ear phones are playing as I try not to think about how stiff my backside has gotten from sitting on it for four hours straight.

"Hey mum, can you pass the chocolate chip cookies?" I finally speak for the first time this morning. My mum leans forward and pulls out the unopened packet of store bought cookies causing me to smile broadly as I reach out for them. River holds her hand out signalling that she wants one as well. As I open the packet of cookies the car swerves causing the cookies to fly everywhere in a mess.

My eyes widen and I look up to see what is going on. The car begins to spin in circles and I begin to scream, feeling my body being tossed around in the backseat of the car, even with my seat belt on. I don't remember hearing anyone else over the sounds of the panic in my head telling me that this is is, I am going to die. My head hits the roof of the car and I feel the car tip upside down, the tears are falling freely down my face but I don't care, there are so many things I haven't said to my parents, so many things I haven't done or gotten to experience and now I never will.

Finally the car has stopped rolling up we are upside down. I want to scream call out for River and ask if everyone is okay. I look over at my side and see the blurry silhouette of my sisters body handing upside down looking almost lifeless. Fear takes over me.

This is it, just like that my life will be taken away from me and there is nothing I can say or do to stop it. That is just the way the world works.

Sharp pains can be felt all over my body from my face down to my calf's I can feel a stinging sensation as though someone has grabbed a knife and has made multiple deep slashes wherever they possibly could. My head feels heavy and everything is dizzy. I can't keep my eyes open no matter how hard I try, suddenly being wasted seems so much better than this and that is coming from someone who hates drinking. My eyes begin to close as I struggle with all my might to keep them open. All the pain in my body is still there but it feels almost far away and I wonder if this is what dying feels like. If it would be painless and simple like the way I feel now. Nothing cross my mind anymore except for the fact that I can't keep my eyes open no matter how hard I try.

I’ve had this in my drafts for ages but wasn’t sure about it. If this does good i might post it on wattpad but idk????

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fanfiction

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