#everyone clap and tell me i have superior taste!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hajimesh · 4 years

Text

𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 — olympic team / fem reader

[ atsumu, sakusa, suna, kageyama, gao, bokuto, hinata, iwaizumi, oikawa ]

the stress of the first match seems to be taking a toll on the team's spirit, and you refuse to sit and watch them fail when you know you can be of help. but can you really handle all of them?

(or, where you end up having a gang bang with 8 professional volleyball players, and 1 athletic trainer)

⥅ word c. 7,928

⥅ warnings. sub reader, gang bang, foursomes, voyeurism?, fellatio, cum play, vaginal penetration, anal, unprotected sex, creampie, facial, size + stomach bulging kink, praise kink, mild degradation, double penetration, pussy job (for like, one second), double vaginal penetration, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, someone passes out, aftercare

⥅author n. brought to u thanks to this tweet + @kmorgzz who suggested adding iwaoi to the mix

special mention to my wife and love of my life, runa. @tsumue u had me laughing at 4am as i read ur comments in the google doc. i don't know what i'd do without u, tysm for beta and putting up with me for the past week ♡

ps. im v sorry if ur fave didn't make the cut (╥_╥) i added the ones im more familiar with, in terms of writing

if someone had told you you’d be attending the olympic games not as a spectator but as part of japan’s team, you’d have never believed them. but here you are, sitting in the same room with the most skilled players in the country as none other than their personal assistant.

“iwaizumi-san! do you think kageyama and i could pull off a quick attack right at the beginning of the set?”

“shoyo-kun, if there’s someone you’ll be doing the quick attack with it’s me,” atsumu’s eyes land on kageyama, smirking at the other setter from across the room, “right, tobio-kun?”

“you’re a disgrace.”

sakusa’s statement earns an offended scoff from the blond setter, the rest of the team rolling their eyes and sighing at the all-too-familiar scene.

“oi! we don’t have time for petty fights!”

after iwaizumi gets everyone’s attention back on him, he barely finishes explaining tomorrow’s match opponents and their plays without losing the team’s attention. he might be there to train them and make sure they’re on top of their game, but he knows when the team is lacking morale and, sadly, today’s one of those days.

the meeting is over and all of you go to the dining hall, fetching your dinner and sitting on your respective table with you right next to iwaizumi.

since you took that part-time job at the msby jackals, you quickly caught onto their small tics and tell-tale signs when something isn’t right. atsumu becomes a complete asshole which makes sakusa lose his temper sooner than usual. meanwhile, bokuto and hinata become very fidgety, often causing a bit of chaos around them as clumsiness radiates off of them.

when the national team was announced, you were offered the job as the trainer’s assistant—all thanks to the jackals who recommended you to their superiors for said position. your pay-check might say you’re just iwaizumi’s assistant, but you’re basically there to cover the needs of the entire team—all of them.

“iwa-chan!”

your head snaps to the side as a good-looking man takes the last free seat next to iwaizumi.

“aren’t you supposed to be sitting with your team?” iwaizumi asks him, taking a bite of his food while waiting for an answer.

the unknown man huffs exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes as he too starts to eat, “thought you’d miss your best friend.”

“hanamaki isn’t here.”

the stranger opens his mouth to reply, clearly offended by iwizumi’s words, when he notices you peeping at him.

“oh? hi! i think we haven’t met,” he shoots you a charming smile, bringing out his remarkably handsome features, “oikawa tooru, it’s nice to meet you.”

you introduce yourself, bowing at him and focusing back on your food.

both friends start to discuss tomorrow’s events, which inevitably brings out iwaizumi’s concern for his players.

“they seem off,” he’s playing around with the food as he stares at the players sitting in the table in front of yours, “i don’t know if i should talk to them or let them be.”

he’s clearly concerned for them, you can see it in his eyes—the doubt, wondering if he has been doing a good job with the team.

“iwaizumi-san, i-i… perhaps i could aid them this time?”

his head snaps in your direction, a mix of surprise and worry taking over his face, “no way, that’d be too much for you.”

oikawa’s eyebrows scrunch up as he observes you two but says nothing, choosing to listen attentively at you trying to convince iwaizumi while the latter sighs and reminds you that it’s not just the jackals this time.

it takes a while for iwaizumi to accept your offer, pondering the pros and cons, but he ends up accepting it; for everyone’s sakes.

“i’m lost.”

oikawa’s words make your insides flare-up, looking down at your hands in order to avoid looking at him, his curious eyes switching between his best friend and you.

iwaizumi ignores him, standing up from his seat and walking to the table in front of you with you and oikawa watching closely. the team turns to look at him, waiting for him to speak since it’s obvious it has to be something important by the severe look on his face.

“seeing as some of you are clearly out of it, our assistant here has very kindly volunteered to help you guys for tonight.”

a few heads immediately perk up, looking at you with bright eyes once you answer their silent question with a smile.

“please, be good to her. i’ll be there supervising anyways, so don’t think of trying anything funny.”

“oikawa-san! you’re coming with us, right?” hinata looks expectantly at said male, excitement clear in the redhead’s eyes, “she’s the best!”

both iwaizumi and you freeze on the spot, gauging oikawa’s reaction who only looks more confused.

“you’re welcome to join us, if you so desire,” it’s you who’s offering it this time, surprising iwaizumi and earning a worried glance from him.

oikawa can’t deny he’s dying to know what everyone’s so excited about, and after thinking about it for a few more seconds, he has made up his mind.

“shall we go, then?”

—

“alright, ground rules.”

just a handful of the team sits in the room, the ones who know what’s happening waiting eagerly for the green light while the rest wonders what the fuss is about. as much as you want to help them all, it’d be impossible; which is why iwaizumi picked the ones he thought needed the morale boost the most.

with a nod in your direction, he lets you know you’re free to speak.

“the jackals already know this,” you say and atsumu snickers from his seat, winking at you as hinata and bokuto nod excitedly, “but i’m not too strict about the entire thing.”

you can feel the pairs of curious eyes burning holes in you—trying to decipher what’s going on. so, after taking a deep breath and getting an awkward, encouraging smile from iwaizumi, you start voicing out the rules.

“please, be patient. there are so many of you and only one of me. i promise you’ll get your turn,” you give atsumu a pointed look, and this time it's sakusa who snorts while the blond setter rolls his eyes, “which brings me to the next rule, no seconds.”

a hand raises in the air, making you advert your attention to its owner.

“i still don’t get what’s happening,” suna’s eyes narrow down at you, noticing the embarrassment and hesitation in your posture.

“don’t worry, suna. we’ll show ya.”

“shut it, miya.”

clearing up your throat, you smile coyly at the middle blocker, “it’ll make sense once i finish explaining, suna-san.”

he shrugs but stays quiet. taking into account the jackals’ reactions plus the cryptic rules, an idea has already formed in his mind. but it couldn’t be that. right?

“uh, again, only one round. all entrances are fine,” you pause, going through the rules in your head to see if there’s anything you might be forgetting, “oh! and you’ll be paired up in teams of three to make things faster.”

“one more thing,” iwaizumi speaks up, this time looking at you instead of the awaiting men, “don’t forget to let us know how you’re doing.”

two loud claps break the tense atmosphere, “well, we should get started then,” atsumu raises from his spot and walks towards you. his hands cradle your face between them and lift it so you can face him properly, “what do ya say, princess?”

his lips land on yours before you can reply to him, a small squeal getting stuck in your throat when his hands travel down your body until he’s squeezing your ass.

you’re too caught up in the kiss to notice the new presence looming behind you.

“i’ll take your pussy before anyone can taint it with their dick.”

sakusa’s words make you shudder. you break apart from atsumu’s mouth to turn around and face him, his dark eyes alluring and drawing you towards him.

“oi, newbie,” atsumu calls out to suna who scoffs in return, “c’mere and join us.”

meanwhile, sakusa guides you to the bed, making you sit on his lap as you wait for the other two to show up. once they do, atsumu immediately settles behind you while suna stands awkwardly at the foot of the bed. it’s hard for you to read his expression since you’re not too familiar with him, so you offer him a reassuring smile and pat the spot next to you.

the rest of the team watches from their seats as the four of you get started.

suna lifts your chin, his eyes staring down at you before leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth. he trails down your neck until he reaches your chest, sucking on the skin gently before running his tongue over the delicate area. in the meantime, atsumu unbuttons your blouse, taking it off and playing with your breasts while sakusa busies himself with taking your pants off.

“i get the hype, now,” suna whispers in your ear, blowing air on it and then biting down on your earlobe, making the hairs of your body rise.

his lips capture yours in a slow kiss —savoring your taste— and one of his hands goes to the back of your neck to keep you in place. his teeth play with your bottom lip, biting it softly and pulling away, his hooded eyes calculating your reaction.

“don’t get too excited, suna,” atsumu says from his spot behind you, pinching your nipples between his fingers and prompting a whine to escape your lips, “you’ll only get her mouth.”

“mhm, is that so?” suna’s question is directed towards you rather than atsumu, tilting your chin up and smirking at the dazed look in your eyes, “can’t wait to see that pretty mouth bulging with my cock, then.”

his lewd words earn a few coughs and clearing throats from the rest, which he chooses to ignore when your hand cups his growing bulge.

“enough you two, let the poor woman have a bit of pleasure too,” sakusa’s dark eyes look at you questioningly, silently asking if you’re ready to continue.

in return, you cup his face with your free hand and kiss his cheek—knowing he wouldn’t appreciate a kiss on the mouth when you just finished making out with another man.

they finish getting you out of your clothes until your bare cunt is hovering over sakusa’s lap. he’s quick to undress and ease his cock into you, suna and atsumu observing as they get rid of their clothes as well.

“fuck,” sakusa groans in your ear, the position allowing you to hide your face in his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “always so tight.”

“scoot over, i need to prep her ass.”

suna snorts at atsumu’s words, pumping his cock twice before kneeling on the mattress—right next to you. he pats your cheek with the swollen head, looking down at you with a faint smirk.

“open up.”

your eyes immediately focus on his length, your mouth watering at the sight. you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, looking up at him and observing as he rests the tip on your tongue.

“looking so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he slowly slides in, guiding your head down until half of him is inside, “so warm.”

a cold liquid dribbles on your backside, making you flinch forward and causing suna’s cock to slide in even more.

“relax, baby. it’s just me,” atsumu rubs the liquid on your asshole, playing with it with his finger before finally sliding it in.

your muscles contract involuntarily, making sakusa groan as he keeps still inside your pussy, waiting for you to grow used to the multiple things going on around you.

“hurry up before i start fucking her.”

a second finger slides in and you moan around suna’s cock, spit running at the corners of your mouth which reminds you to swallow. you hollow your cheeks and retract your mouth until only the tip remains inside, running your tongue over the slit and making the middle blocker shudder.

“someone’s hungry,” he muses.

you hum around him, bobbing your head back and forth and pumping the rest of his length with one hand.

“i’m gonna try get in now, okay?” atsumu taps your ass with his cock, lining it up with your asshole and thrusting in. he watches as the head of his cock finally slips in, groaning when the familiar tightness engulfs him, “that’s it, baby. doin’ so good for me.”

you have to remove your mouth from suna’s cock to avoid biting down on him, the stretch slightly more painful than pleasurable which eventually leads to you tensing up even more.

“you gotta relax,” atsumu says under his breath, strained by the way you feel around his dick.

it takes you around a minute to calm down, taking deep breaths until you feel yourself loosen up and, with one last push, he’s finally inside.

“omi?” you say against his neck, “could you move a bit, please?”

said man grunts as he starts to move his hips, your slick helping his cock glide in, “color.”

it takes you a few seconds to understand what he meant.

“oh! uhh, green.”

atsumu’s thrusts are slow —testing the waters— since the last thing he wants is to get yelled at for being too rough, too soon. but you’re growing impatient, moving your hips backwards and trying to get more of him inside of you.

“m-more, ‘tsumu. i can take it,” you say and he immediately complies, his muscular thighs now slapping against your ass.

suna remains kneeling next to you, cock in his hand as he waits for you to bring your attention back to him. but he doesn’t have to wait too long, your hand wrapping around his cock and guiding it back into your mouth once you’ve set a steady pace with the other two men.

“thought you had forgotten about me.”

he pushes your hair out of your face, watching your lips wrap around his girth. it’s taking all of his willpower to not hold your head and fuck your face until you’re gagging around him, afraid it might be a big ‘no’ from you. and since it’s the first time he’s getting to experience this, he decides to take whatever’s given to him.

“you’re so wet,” sakusa points out as he looks down at where you two are connected, observing his cock slide in and out of your cunt, covered with your slick.

“‘course she is, she’s being stuffed by three cocks.”

“feels good…” your manage to say after releasing suna with a pop, pumping his shaft with your hand, “a-am i making you feel better?”

a hand lands on your ass, causing you to yelp and tighten your hold on suna’s cock.

“what do ya think, hm? we’re getting our dicks wet in none other but our slutty little assistant's holes,” atsumu plays with your ass, squeezing it and humming when the imprint of his hands appears on the soft flesh.

“mhm, quite the slut you are,” sakusa whispers in your ear, kissing your neck afterwards, “as long as i get to make a mess out of that cunt of yours before anyone else, i will always enjoy these little sessions of ours.”

your eyes land on suna, waiting for him to say his thoughts on the matter.

his gaze drops to your hand, covered in his pre-cum and your spit which sends a jolt to his cock, making it throb in your hand.

“can’t say i hate it.”

you smile at his words, recognizing the challenge hidden behind them. your mouth wraps around the flushed tip, eyes closing when both sakusa and atsumu thrust up into your holes at the same time. you try to keep your hand steady as you suck suna off, but the lewd grunts and moans coming from them, plus their cocks filling you so nicely make your rhythm falter every once in a while.

a hand starts toying with your clit, causing you to moan around suna’s cock. the vibrations make him shudder, scowling at himself when he realizes his orgasm is approaching faster than he expected.

“fuck, fuck– princess? do you mind if i cum inside?” atsumu grunts.

your muscles clench at the thought of being filled with his cum, imagining the thick liquid oozing out of your sensitive holes only to stuff it back in with your fingers.

“y-yes, ‘tsumu. cum inside me,” you pant as your hands squeeze suna’s cock, pumping it faster as you notice his hips jerking towards you. you turn your face to look at sakusa, who has his eyebrows drawn upwards and his mouth open slightly as he too feels overwhelmed by the pleasure, “omi, you can cum inside as well.”

and he doesn’t need to be told twice, his large hands holding you by your hips so he can thrust his cock into your drenched cunt faster.

moans and squelching noises echo around the room. atsumu picks up his pace as he feels his orgasm approaching, his deep grunts fanning over your neck and taking over your hearing. the drag of sakusa’s pubic bone against your clit has you cumming shortly after. your head rolls forward as both men keep thrusting in and out of you, only stopping once their cum fill your clenching holes.

“shit– look at me,” suna orders you, and you barely have time to process what’s happening.

his cum lands on your face, his hand helping you pump his throbbing cock as the ropes of cum cover your skin. he exhales heavily once he’s done, brushing the flushed head of his cock over your swollen lips, and smearing the white liquid around them.

it’s silent for a few seconds, save for the heavy breathing and pants coming from your mouths.

“holy shit,” oikawa’s voice breaks the silence. his cock strains almost painfully against his pants at the sight of what awaits him.

“yeah, holy shit,” atsumu laughs off, brushing his hair out of his face with one hand as he massages the flesh of your ass with the other, “ya never disappoint, princess.”

with a grunt, the blond setter removes his softening cock from you, his honey eyes —plus a few curious ones— observing the way his cum dribbles out from your stretched hole. the same thing happens with sakusa, who lifts your hips off of him, his cock falling on his stomach and the mix of your slick and his cum dripping down on his length.

atsumu’s fingers immediately go to your cunt, pumping the juices back into you, “god, you love this. don’t you, baby?”

all you can do is whine, your hands clenching the sheets until he removes his fingers from your sensitive pussy, and stuffs them inside your mouth.

“we all get a turn?” kageyama whispers not so discreetly to hinata, who only nods eagerly in return.

you lick atsumu’s fingers clean which earns you a radiant smile from him.

“here.”

suna has his arm outstretched, handing you a tissue so you can clean your face.

“thank you,” you take it from his hands as you climb off of sakusa’s lap.

you’re cleaning the residues of cum on your face when a hand falls on top of your head.

“drink some water before you start the next round,” sakusa’s dark eyes suddenly seem warmer and kinder to you, patting your head before disappearing into the bathroom.

after tossing the used tissue away, you turn to iwaizumi and give him a firm nod.

“who’s next?”

your dazzling smile has the rest of the men in awe, silently praying it’s them who get to feel your body with their hands next.

“bokuto,” the wing spiker’s immediately perks up at the sound of his name, “you, kageyama, and hakuba are next.”

the three men raise from their seats and make their way towards the bed—towards you.

“hey, bo,” you offer a loving smile to him, “you ready?”

his strong arms wrap around you, kissing your cheek loudly and making you giggle, “it feels as if i’ve been waiting forever. of course, i’m ready!”

meanwhile, kageyama and gao stand at the foot of the bed, waiting for any instructions or a signal from you that could tell them when to start. luckily, you’re quick to notice their hesitation.

”is there a particular place where you want to be?” you ask them, looking specifically at kageyama and gao, since you want to make sure they feel included.

“dibs on your mouth!”

you blush at bokuto’s enthusiasm but accept his request, stroking his cheek as you wait for the other two to answer.

“i’ll take whatever,” kageyama says and scratches the back of his neck.

“me too,” gao smiles and takes a few steps towards you, making bokuto move away from you. his large hand tucks one piece of your hair away, his eyes staring at yours before dropping to your lips, “although, i think i’d like it better if i had your pussy gripping my cock. wouldn’t you like that?”

he presses his front against yours, his erection poking at your belly which earns a small gasp from you. you have to stop yourself from taking a look at the tent in his sweatpants, trying to figure out how much of him there is hidden inside the fabric.

“o-okay.”

the middle blocker smiles at you before diving down to your lips. his hands grab your waist, lifting you up from the ground and making you wrap your legs around his torso. he gently places you down on the bed and kisses his way down your neck until his mouth is right above your erect nipple.

“hey! i want to kiss her too,” bokuto complains, “you can’t hog her like that.”

“s’okay bo, come here.”

he doesn’t have to be told twice, immediately climbing onto the bed and leaning down to kiss your lips.

you grab the back of his head and run your fingers through his soft hair, pulling on it gently which causes a groan to rumble in his chest.

a pair of hands slide over your legs, pushing them apart until your bare cunt is spread wide open for everyone to see.

“you’re dripping, babe,” gao murmurs over your nipple, giving it a light tug before flicking his tongue over it, “do you want my cock that badly?”

you can only moan and nod, your lips still busy with bokuto’s.

but there’s someone who still has yet to join you.

“tobio-chan, if you’re not going to do anything then let me take your place instead.”

oikawa’s words snap you out of your daze. you pat bokuto’s cheek signaling him to let go of you, and the same thing happens with gao as you try to sit up. your eyes fall on kageyama who stands at the same spot with a conflicted look and an obvious erection in his pants.

“hey,” you crawl your way towards him and sit on your knees, “are you uncomfortable?”

his mouth opens but nothing comes out of it. he can feel the weight of everyone’s stare on him, making him look away from you.

a few seconds pass and there’s still no answer.

“you don’t have to do this, you know?” you say in a small tone, slightly confused as to why he’s rejecting you, “i just thought… i could help you relax.”

he nods, still avoiding your gaze.

you take a look at iwaizumi –who looks as equally as puzzled as you– before looking back at the setter.

“do you want to leave?”

at this, his head finally snaps towards you, “no, i-” he pauses. his eyes are immediately drawn to your mouth, making him involuntarily wet his lips, “i want to stay.”

relief washes over you, a timid smile spreading on your lips which is quickly mirrored by him. you take his hand in yours and guide him to the other side of the bed, urging him to join the rest of you. there’s a hunger in his eyes that has your pussy dripping with your slick, a sigh leaving your lips when your back hits the pillows as you watch him take gao’s previous spot.

“kiss me, tobio.”

and he does. it starts slow, hesitant, but it soon turns desperate. his tongue strokes yours before sucking on it, spit coating your lips thanks to the messiness of the kiss. the strain of his cock inside his pants becomes too uncomfortable to his liking, causing him to start humping against you, trying to relieve himself.

noticing his predicament, you move your hand between your bodies and palm his hard-on. he groans against your lips, his hips jerking forward seeking more of your touch.

in the meantime, both bokuto and gao pump their cocks with their hands, having taken their clothes off while you talked to kageyama.

gao squeezes the head of his cock between his hands, pre-cum oozing from the slit as he imagines the way your cunt is going to grip him, “babe, you’re making us suffer.”

“get in line!”

“atsumu, shut the fuck up.”

“baby?” bokuto asks from where he stands, his own cock stiff and ready to be inside your mouth, “we don’t mean to be pushy, but do you think you could get to us soon?”

“bokuto-san, you’re going to break a rule!” hinata says, clearly concerned for his teammate, “be patient, remember?”

the rest of the team laughs and you can’t help but join them.

at this, bokuto pouts playfully at you, “you’re just teasing me, baby.”

“then come here,” you gasp when kageyama’s mouth sucks at the base of your neck, “y-you wanted my mouth, right?”

bokuto kneels next to your face, patting the leaking tip on your lips.

“i’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours and you’re going to take it like a good girl,” he says, his tone leaving no room for questions, “open.”

you comply immediately, lolling out your tongue and waiting for him to rest his heavy cock on top of it.

the lewd sight in front of him makes bokuto shudder. his hands grasp your head, pushing you down his length until he feels your throat constricting around him.

“fuck– baby,” he grunts and gives a shallow thrust, “i know you can do better than that.”

you try to relax your jaw so you can fit more of him inside of your mouth. but as you are about to graze your nose against his pubic bone, a finger runs between your folds causing you to flinch.

“i’m still here.”

gao’s tone sounds stern, even if a playful smile tugs his lips upwards, you can see the seriousness swirling in his eyes.

kageyama sighs and leaves your side, stepping away momentarily to take his pants off.

the middle blocker takes it as his chance to settle between your legs as bokuto keeps your mouth busy.

“you’re drenched, sweetheart,” he muses, running his digits over your slit, “don’t worry, i’ll fill this pussy with my cock so well that you’ll be cumming in no time.”

your eyes travel to his shaft, watching as he pumps it twice before running it between your folds. your brows furrow when you notice how heavy it feels, making you wonder if it will fit in.

he lines himself up with your hole, pushing the head inside which is enough to have you whining around bokuto’s cock.

“you look so sexy,” bokuto groans, pushing your head away from him and watching your spit run down your mouth. he looks at kageyama who stands awkwardly with his cock in hand, “i guess we’re sharing her mouth.”

the setter’s eyes widen slightly before nodding, mimicking bokuto’s position and nudging his cock on your lips, “suck.”

your breath hitches at his order, caught off guard by his demanding tone. you grab his cock from the base and guide it into your mouth, pumping bokuto’s length with your other hand. you hum around kageyama, running your tongue over the head of his cock before hollowing your cheeks and sucking harshly on it.

but your attention on them doesn’t last too long, the sudden feel of your pussy getting split open by gao’s cock taking it away.

“so tight,” he grunts, one of his hands running over the skin of your inner thigh until he reaches your soaking cunt. he pulls your folds apart, watching you struggle to take his cock inside you—no matter how wet you are, “i bet those jackals haven’t been fucking you like you deserve.”

“oi!” “not true!”

you free your mouth from kageyama and use both hands to pump his and bokuto’s cock, “s-so big, ugh-”

gao pushes more of him in, half of his cock already inserted in you. but he’s just so thick, so big, that you can’t help but clamp down your walls around him. his thumb starts rubbing circles on your clit, trying to relax your walls, as his other hand settles on your abdomen.

“you’re going to be so full of my cock that you’ll be able to see it,” he gives a gentle pat to your belly, “right here.”

your grip on the other two men tightens as gao finally bottoms out, a whine breaking through your lips at the stretch.

“if only you could see yourself,” his thrusts are lazy, mesmerized by the way your belly bulges when he pushes his cock inside you, “so fucking sexy with my fat cock inside your cunt.”

your lips wrap around the tip of bokuto’s cock once more, closing your eyes as pleasure clouds your head. he thrusts in, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

“good girl,” bokuto exhales, “taking my cock so well.”

you quicken the pace of your other hand, looking at kageyama as you obscenely suck bokuto.

the setter’s eyes refuse to leave yours, “who would’ve thought our assistant could be so naughty.”

“as if you’re complaining,” gao says, lifting your leg over his shoulder. the new angle allowing him to press his hips closer to yours.

“i never said i was.”

bokuto curses under his breath when you start sucking his balls, pumping the rest of his length with your hand and squeezing the head of kageyama’s cock with the other.

“you’re going to make me cum,” bokuto groans.

giggling, you lick your way up and run your tongue over the slit, “cum in my mouth.”

the sound of collective groans echoes in the room, a fair amount of players finding your words arousing.

“what a slut, let’s see if you keep talking when you’re covered in our cum.”

gao’s threat goes straight to your pussy, making you cream around his girth. the pace of his thumb on your clit quickens once he notices your walls spasming around him.

“ngh, fuck!” you’re breathing heavily by now, barely managing to keep the pace of your hands consistent, “i-i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, baby.”

one of gao’s hands travels up your body until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“shit, shit, shit,” you’re thrashing underneath him, your cunt fluttering around his cock thanks to your orgasm.

kageyama’s way too focused on the way your face contorts in pleasure to notice how his hips have started to jerk faster. that is until the familiar coil suddenly snaps and his cum lands on your chin and part of your chest.

“h-how did you get even tighter- hah!”

warm spurts of cum fill your cunt, the sense of fullness intensifying as gao frees his load inside of you.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, fuck–” bokuto chants your name as he too reaches his orgasm, quickly shoving his cock into your mouth and releasing his thick cum inside of it.

you make sure to keep sucking him, milking his cock dry. once you remove your mouth from him, you bring his and kageyama’s cock closer to your face and pucker your lips, letting the mix of cum and spit fall on their cocks before giving a few kitten licks to the flushed heads.

gao starts to remove his cock from your insides, cursing at the state of your pussy once he’s finally out.

“holy fuck, she’s tightening around nothing.”

you let out a low moan when his fingers spread your lower lips, “t-too sensitive.”

“i think that’s enough,” iwaizumi intervenes, pushing him away, “color?”

“yellow,” but you continue as soon as you see his face become stern, “relax, i just need to calm down a bit.”

kageyama offers you a towel before awkwardly thanking you for your help. and after receiving a kiss on the forehead from bokuto, the three of them leave to go clean themselves.

“iwa-chan, why don’t you give her a massage?”

you let your body fall on the mattress, extending your arms above your head and moaning at the stretch.

“mm, that’d be nice.”

iwaizumi rolls his eyes playfully when he sees you pouting at him, “get on your stomach, i’ll be right back.”

in the meantime, oikawa and hinata take the spots next to you, eager to finally have their turn with you.

“you’re so pretty,” oikawa runs his hands over the skin of your shoulders, “those idiots are lucky to have you.”

your eyes start closing up, focusing on the feel of his fingers on your skin and making goosebumps appear all over your body.

“shoyo, we should help her relax too. don’t you think?”

you catch the suggestive tone in his voice, but his touch feels so good that you choose to ignore it.

both men start caressing your body, hinata’s hands paying special attention to your shoulders while oikawa pets your hair, murmuring sweet nothings.

“you ready?” iwaizumi pops back into the room, a bottle of oil and a clean towel in his hands.

“mhm.”

the towel rests on your ass, iwaizumi’s warm hands spreading the oil on your back and rubbing at the sore muscles.

“does that feel good, princess?” oikawa asks when he hears you sigh. you are about to reply when iwaizumi hits a sore spot, a groan slipping past your lips and making the setter chuckle, “can you tell me your color now?”

“green.”

oikawa looks at iwaizumi and both men seem to communicate through their eyes, the latter smirking before going back to work.

at first, you don’t pay too much attention to his movements, choosing to focus on the pleasure. but then you notice how his hands seem to ghost lower and lower until he’s kneading your ass, the towel long forgotten.

before you can comment on it, he moves them to your thighs, massaging the soft flesh. it all goes back to normal –or so you think– until his hands reach higher and his digits start grazing your slit.

“hajime…”

“shh,” oikawa coos in your ear, pushing your hair out of your face and kissing your temple, “let him take care of you.”

iwaizumi inserts one finger inside your pussy, curling it until he’s teasing the spongy walls.

whines escape your mouth, your hands gripping the bedsheets which are quickly replaced by hinata’s hands.

“so cute.”

another finger slips in and makes you open your eyes, looking at oikawa helplessly, “o-oikawa-san-”

“tooru,” he interrupts you.

“tooru,” you try his name and he hums, letting you know he’s listening, “could you… uh, k-kiss me?”

“of course, princess.”

he leans down to capture your lips, swallowing your moans when iwaizumi curls both fingers and massages your spot.

you open your legs, allowing iwaizumi to finger you better as you rut your hips on the mattress, rubbing your clit against the fabric of the sheets and chasing after your orgasm.

“iwa– faster, please.”

he complies immediately, causing wetness to gush out of your cunt and making the distinctive squelching sounds fill the room.

“i’m gonna– ah! i’m c-cumming!”

“cum for me,” he encourages you, and that’s all you need.

you gush around his fingers, your slick coating them as you squirm under the gaze of the three men.

hinata tugs at your hand, pulling you underneath him and kissing you sloppily. you gasp on his mouth, caught off guard by the sudden movement but quickly melting into the kiss.

he blushes once he pulls away, “s-sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“it’s okay, shoyo,” you breathe out, caressing his cheek, “want me to help you?”

he beams at your offer, nodding eagerly as he watches you climb on top of him. you straddle his hips and run your cunt over his cock, shivering when his length grazes your clit.

“do you want me to ride you?” you whisper, playing with his hair.

“wait- i think i have a better idea.”

hinata lifts you from his lap and moves until he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress. he pushes your hips with his hands, turning you around so you’re facing away from him.

“you can sit on my lap now.”

your ass rests right on top of his cock, but he hooks his arms on your knees, spreading you open, as he lets himself fall back on the mattress.

“what are you–”

“oikawa-san, doesn’t this remind you of something?”

said man laughs, “how could i forget? we had quite some fun back in brazil, huh?”

you’re visibly confused, looking at oikawa with furrowed brows, “what do you want to do?”

“say, princess,” his tone suddenly sounds too sweet for your liking, “have you ever had two cocks in one hole?”

your eyes widen, looking back and forth between oikawa and iwaizumi—who has ridden himself of his clothes and sits next to you, his thick cock in his hand.

“i’ll take that as a no.”

“can we do that?” hinata asks from behind you, his breath fanning on your ear, “we’ll be gentle.”

“there’s literally another free hole for you to use!” someone yells, clearly annoyed they didn’t get the chance to do it.

oikawa clicks his tongue, “where’s the fun in that?”

after taking a minute to think it through, you agree to their offer, “okay… uh- iwa?” you turn to look at him, “what about you?”

seeing as there’s no room for him to take your ass, his eyes land on your mouth. and with two taps of his finger on your cheek, he lets you know his decision.

“think you can suck me off?”

they’re all given the green light when you answer his question. hinata raises you from his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance before letting your weight fall on top of it. you groan at the familiar thickness stretching you nicely, missing the flash of hunger in the setter’s eyes.

“my turn.”

oikawa presses the tip on your entrance, pushing forward and making room for his own cock.

the burn of having two cocks in one hole is new to you, but it’s surprisingly more pleasurable than you thought it’d be. you lift your eyes to look at oikawa, his gaze already locked on you, and you feel your pussy cream around their cocks at the lust in his eyes.

“enjoying yourself, princess?”

you moan when he bottoms out, watching the muscles of his abdomen contract and feeling his cock pulsing inside of you.

the thrill of being stretched by two cocks, at the same time, has your head spinning; your thoughts becoming lewd as you picture both men cumming inside you and globs of cum dripping from your abused hole.

“oikawa-san, did you feel that?” hinata asks. half-amused, half excited, “she’s squeezing us so well.”

“naughty, princess,” the setter grunts, “don’t forget about iwa-chan.”

you turn your head to face him, catching the irritated look he sends oikawa before looking down at you.

iwaizumi’s eyes immediately soften, but a smirk slowly tugs at the corners of his lips, “you seem busy.”

“there’s always room for japan’s national team athletic trainer.”

he can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the silly title. he raises from his seat and settles himself above you, his cock hovering on your face and making your mouth water.

“whenever you’re ready.”

you don’t need to be told twice. grasping his thick cock with your hand, you lean forward and flick your tongue on the head, looking at him through your lashes with faux innocence.

“start moving,” iwaizumi hisses, the words directed at the other two men, “seems like she needs a little reminder of who’s in charge right now.”

oikawa and hinata look at each other with smirks on their lips. as hinata said earlier, they’ve been in this position before, so there’s no need for words between them since they both know what’s coming next.

hinata moves his head slightly to the side, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder and, at the same time, granting him the view of your cunt being filled with their cocks.

“look at her, oikawa-san” his eyes are locked on your pussy, captivated by the way you suck them in, “she looks so pretty with two cocks splitting her open.”

hinata’s lewd words prompt you to involuntarily moan, the vibrations landing on iwaizumi’s cock.

“hmm, you like it when you’re reduced to nothing but a slut. don’t you?”

you blink up at iwaizumi as you keep bobbing your head up and down his shaft, opting to hum to let him know you’re not ignoring him.

but his words catch someone else’s attention.

“is that true?” oikawa asks, amusement clear in his voice, “you like being reminded you’re a whore? how much of a greedy slut you are by fucking an entire volleyball team?”

you’re speechless, his words –matched with his and hinata’s harsh thrusts– causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“answer me.”

oikawa’s hand wraps around your throat, barely applying any pleasure but it’s enough to send your mind into a frenzy.

after releasing iwaizumi’s cock from your mouth, you take a second to swallow down your spit before answering him.

“y-yes, tooru. i like being treated like a slut.”

his eyes sparkle with mischief, pleased by your words.

“good, because that’s how you’re going to be treated from now on.”

a hand travels to your throbbing clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub.

“s-shoyo!”

“shh, it’ll make you feel good.”

something wet slaps against your cheek, “don’t get distracted.”

you nod and go back to sucking iwaizumi off, moaning every time hinata or oikawa hit a spot inside your cunt. you dare take a look at where your body connects with both men, and you catch yourself becoming entranced by the way their cocks slide in and out of your pussy so easily.

you are familiar with hinata’s cock, but it’s nice to see the contrast between the two of them. while hinata’s length is thick and veiny, oikawa’s leans towards the slimmer side—but still with a considerable length. either way, both men manage to hit those sweet spots inside you and make you see stars.

“shit– princess,” oikawa falters a bit when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“we can cum inside you, right?” hinata asks, sensing his orgasm approaching. after all, he had been waiting for his turn for around an hour.

you pull away from iwaizumi, a string of spit connecting your lips with his cock and causing it to twitch at the sight.

“you can cum wherever you want.”

“oh? the team’s cocksleeve,” oikawa adds, “i see.”

iwaizumi chuckles, combing your hair out of your face and pushing his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, “you like that nickname, sweetheart?”

with his length still in your mouth, you manage to hum in affirmation.

hinata’s pace on your clit quickens as his hips jerk faster, your cunt squeezing their cocks even more in return, “i’m cumming, ah– i-i’m gonna cum!”

he manages to say before you feel him twitch inside you, pumping his cum into your walls. the fullness plus his rapid movements on your clit cause the familiar warmth to take over your body. but it’s your fourth orgasm of the night, and before you can warn anyone, liquid spurts out of your cunt.

you squirm on top of hinata, gushing around his and oikawa’s cock while your mouth remains occupied with iwaizumi’s.

“holy shit.”

both oikawa and iwaizumi cum at the sight of you squirting before them, observing the wetness soaking oikawa’s abdomen and running all the way down onto the bedsheets. they groan as they feel their load releasing into you, oikawa filling your tender cunt while iwaizumi fills your mouth.

you try to swallow a bit of iwaizumi’s cum but it’s useless. your chest heaves in exhaustion, your eyes closing involuntarily as you’re being hit with wave after wave of fatigue.

“hey,” oikawa winces when he removes his cock from you. he shoots a worried glance at iwaizumi before he’s leaning forward so he can take a closer look at you, “princess? how are you feeling?”

iwaizumi nudges hinata with his knee, wordlessly telling him to let go of you.

the following moments become a foggy mess, your mind barely registering the pair of arms wrapping around you and carrying you somewhere else.

all you can feel is tiredness, and the dampness between your thighs, before you finally pass out.

—

consciousness slowly makes its way to you, replacing the sleepiness and making you aware of your surroundings as a familiar soreness sits heavy on your body.

in an instant, flashbacks from the previous night run through your mind.

you grip the duvet and push it away from you, only to notice the set of clothes you’re wearing: an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that clearly don’t belong to you. but you don’t have time to dwell on it, the sound of your ringtone blasting all over the room and making you scramble around the bed so you can answer the call.

but it’s of no use when it goes to voicemail—you were a bit too late.

when you manage to find your phone, you tap on the screen to see whose call you just missed.

‘hajime’

your fingertips hover on the contact name, debating between returning the call or wait for him to call you again. but a few notifications pop up at the top of the screen signaling you have three text messages from him.

hey, i guess you’re still asleep. don’t freak out when you wake up, you deserve the rest so it’s okay if you stay in bed. i left your breakfast on the nightstand and you can always call me if you need anything else.

and i thought you’d like to see this.

there’s a link attached at the end of the message.

you click on it and wait for the page to load, tapping your nails on the back of your phone anxiously. a headline in big bold letters takes over the screen and you have to stop yourself from squealing.

‘japan men’s volleyball team makes it past the first round.’

you start scrolling down the article, reading how spectacular the match was and how the entire team seemed to be in their best shape. you feel your face heat up when you read the argentinian team won their match too, with multiple comments praising oikawa’s performance.

with a smile on your lips, you go back to your messages to type a quick reply to iwaizumi. only to notice you have one more text from him.

it’s our turn to take care of you.

12K notes · View notes

girlsluvbot · 3 years

Text

If I were you, I would just love me [⅓]

pairing: roseanne park × idol! reader

genre: fluff, mainly angst

about: Sometimes reality comes crashing down on you. Other times reality simply waits, patiently, for you to run out of the energy it takes to deny it.

a/n: This is part one of three, so there's more to come... wink wink. This fic is also mildly inspired by the book "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" (it's not an au or anything, I just borrowed some plot elements)

You're already packing your things and preparing to leave the meeting room when your phone buzzes with an incoming text message.

Chanmin (Manager): look what mina sent me haha

who knew one of the new yg girl likes ballads 🤣

[link]

Furrowing your eyebrows, you sit back on the office chair and open the YouTube link your manager forwarded to you. You bite your thumbnail while waiting for the video to load, nervous suddenly. One of the new YG girls? You can only guess he's talking about a BLACKPINK member, considering the fact they were the newest girl group that debuted at the company.

The clip finally loads, and your heart skips a beat at the image. It's a short video from a recent episode of Running Men, with BLACKPINK making their first ever appearance as rookies.

The title reads, BLACKPINK Rosé admits she is the biggest fan of Sm Entertainment's Y/N L/N!

And sure enough, Rosé goes on to ramble about your most recent album and her favorite songs, even mentioning your upcoming drama, for almost three minutes straight.

"Ah, if there's one soloist I really wish to collaborate with, it's her," her eyes wide with excitement, "Even though she only debuted recently it really feels like she knows what she’s doing. I really respect her.."

Everyone in the room awww's and oooh's as Rosé cover her face with a giggle. The MC points at the camera and suggests: "Is there anything you'd like to tell her; in case she’s watching?"

"Y/N -unnie! Oh, I hope you're not actually watching this, I'm really embarrassed now..." she looks around the room as everyone erupts into laughter once again, "But-- yeah, I'm really looking forward to your next album and... I'll listen to it a lot when it comes! Just like I always do!"

The MC and her members all clap while still laughing, as the clip ends, and the conversation naturally flows to a different topic.

You only realize you're smiling once you hear the door open and see an intern walk in. "Ah, Ms. L/N, you're still here? Mina is already in the car waiting for you outside." she pauses once she catches a glance of your face, "Are you okay? You seem a lot cheerier than before."

Grabbing your things, you politely wave her off before heading for the door. "Oh, it's nothing. Everything is just fine."

You and Rosé immediately hit it off-- after you get in touch with her using the phone number another idol in your agency gave you and arrange a few meetups, it feels as if you've known each other for ages.

She's so easygoing and easy to talk to that you never struggle to find topics for discussion. This, however, often gets out of control when you stay up until early morning hours to text each other despite having busy schedules the next day. Even now, sitting on a chair in the hairstylists trailer on the set of your drama, you find yourself typing replies to her endless text messages.

R: oh my god yes

: that's what i said as well but no one agreed with me!!!

: we have to eat it together pleaseeee i need to have it with someone who shares my superior taste 🙄 lisa cant relate

Y/N: haha yes we do!!

: tteokbokki is literally my comfort food i dont understand how some ppl dont like it...

R: what about tonight?

: :)

: at my place?

Y/N: i finish pretty late tonight :(( I dont want you to have to stay up for me

R: no its okay I'll wait

: you can stay overnight

: if you want?

Y/N: are you sure?

R: yes 100%

Y/N: haha okay then i'll be there

"Close your eyes please," your hairstylist interrupts your train if thought as she shakes a bottle of finishing spray, ready to send you off for filming. You do as you're told, but your mind is stuck elsewhere. This would be the first time you'd get to see Rosé's apartment, and you were rather curious.

"Okay, you're all done." she runs a comb through your hair one last time, "come back at 1 PM please, I need to re-do your hair for the lake scene. Okay?"

You nod, getting out of the seat and mindlessly grabbing your script from the vanity. Throughout filming and the remainder of the day, your thoughts are scatter all over but always manage to circle back to a certain someone, no matter how much you try to focus on your role.

"And... Cut! Everyone pack up for the day." the director shouts and the dimmed set is immediately lit up by halogen lights. You squint your eyes and politely smile at your co-star, pulling away from his embrace. The romantic scene you were currently shooting involved your characters sitting on a picnic blanket, watching shooting starts.

You didn’t mind shooting intimate scenes, but this time you felt detached from your character no matter how much you tried to focus. You could barely look into your co-stars eyes without zoning out—it was almost embarrassing.

You know your performance today wasn't the best, and it seem the director noticed as well: "Y/N? Can I talk to you for a second?"

You waddle along to his seat behind the camera, while putting on a robe cover-up one of the interns handed to you. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to check in to make sure you're okay. You seem really distracted today,"

"Ah," you nod, "I think it's just the exhaustion getting to me. I'll snap out of it over the weekend, I promise."

He purses his lips, as if he was trying to make himself believe you, "I trust you and I know you’re a great actress, but please make sure to focus on your work only while on set, okay?"

Once you nod, he continues: "Great, now go home and rest. I'll see you Monday."

You quickly get changed and pack all your things, not bothering to take off your makeup. You grab your phone to call an Uber, only pausing to check the time. 23:16.

For a moment you consider just going home instead. Was Rosé even still awake? Maybe the whole thing would be awkward and uncomfortable and weird...

Before you can think any further, a new message pops up on the top of your screen.

R: are we still on for dinner tonight? :)

You bite your lip and type up a reply.

Y/N: yes i'm on my way :)

R: i'll be waiting! x

Rosé buzzes you in her apartment building and tells you to go to the third floor. Her front door swings open before you even have time to knock, "Y/N!" she pulls you into a hug with the biggest grin on her face.

"How was filming?" the heavy wooden door closes after you two and its only now that you realize you're in her apartment --her private and sacred space-- for the first time ever. It's big and airy, with dark wooden floors and cream colored walls, with plant pots hanging from the ceiling and nestled in every corner.

"Your home is gorgeous." you cant stop looking around as she leads you down the hallway.

You can sense she’s blushing without even having to look at her face, "Ah, thank you. It's good to have my own place for once."

When you finally reach the joint kitchen and living room, she points to the luxurious looking sofa, nudging you to sit down: "So, I know I said we could cook tteokbokki together but I thought you might be too tired, since you had a busy day of filming."

You open your mouth to reassure her that it's okay and you don't mind, when she turns around, holding two bowls.

"I thought it would be easier if I just made it myself," Rosé startles when she sees your face, "Gosh, I hope you're not angry... Y/N, I promise I'm a good cook!"

You shake your head and laugh, taking one of the bowls from her hand.

"No no no Rosie, I'm not angry. I-" you glance at her, "You're too nice to me."

Rosé sits on the couch next to you and lightly puts her hand on your shoulder, "You deserve for everyone to be at least as nice to you as I am."

Suddenly overly aware of the closeness of your bodies and the warmth of her hand on your skin, you swallow dryly. "Yeah."

Her gaze slips from your eyes down below and your breath hitches in your throat. The room is deadly silent, her perfume sweet and her hair frames her face like a painting.

Suddenly a jolt of pain jolts you awake, and you pull away, your skin burning. Rosé pulls away, just as surprised as you are.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” She gasps when she notices the fresh stain on your blouse, sauce still dripping over the brim of her bowl and onto the floor.

“Ugh, I’m such a klutz,” Rosé stands up and reaches for a box of tissues on the toffee table. After wiping the floor, she grabs the dirty bowl and swiftly slips out of the room. She returns soon after, with a wet towel in her hand.

“Ah, no that’s okay,” you start putting your palms up to stop her, “Please don’t worry about it.”

Rosie shakes her head: “Nonsense, this is all my fault. Let me help you.”

You realize there’s no point in arguing and so you let her press the damp towel onto the fabric of your top. She’s so close you can feel the warmth of her beath brush against your neck, her fingers brushing against your collarbone as she gently wipes the fabric.

You notice that she furrows her brows and bites her bottom lip when focused on a task. Why do I know that? Stop staring at her so profusely, you think and force yourself to turn away and glare at the vase of flowers on her TV stand instead. Who got her those? Did she buy them themselves or were they a gift from someone? A boyfriend? Or a..

Before you let yourself wonder any further, Rosé puts her hand on your thigh for support and stands up from the floor. “I did my best but I think it would be better to put it in the laundry right now while it’s still wet. You can change into one of my shirts in the meantime, if you’d like?”

You nod, “I would really appreciate that, if it’s not too much of a bother.”

Rosé playfully rolls her eyes and pulls you up from the couch, “Come on, I’ll show you my closet. And you don’t have to be so formal with me all the time, we’re friends aren’t we?”

She guides you to the other side of the apartment and towards her bedroom. You feel shy all of a sudden, realizing that you’re entering even further into her private space.

Her bedroom is decorated in shades of gray and smells of coconut air freshener. Rosé has you sit at the edge of her bed while she searches through her closet. You carefully lean against the freshly washed bedsheets and look around the room. You see pictures of her and her members framed on her vanity and hung all around the walls. You notice a collection of vinyl records on one of the shelves, alongside a few copies of your albums. You feel oddly flattered, She really wasn’t lying when she said she was a fan, huh?

“Here you go,” she smiles while handing you a folded shirt, “This should do for now. I’ll put your blouse in the laundry and make sure the tteokbokki it doesn’t leave a permanent stain.”

It takes you a second to realize that she’s expecting you to change right here and now, in front of her. You feel stupid asking her to leave her own bedroom so you could change, so you bite down your timidness and reach for the buttons on the shirt. Only after you unbutton the first three does Rosé inhale sharply and turn around, heat rising in her cheeks. She pointlessly shuffles through a drawer in her vanity, pretending to look for something. You quickly slip on the t-shirt she gave you (oversized with a band graphic on the front) and hand her the blouse: “Thank you so much, Rosie. You really don’t have to do this.”

Rosé finally turns around, her eyes soft when they meet yours, “Yes I do.”

You show up to work next week just like you did all the previous months of filming, but your hearts not really in it. For the first time in almost your entire career, you struggle to connect with your character, either forget your lines or can’t deliver them properly. After the third failed retake of the same scene, the director yells “Cut!” and you grab your robe from one of the interns with a bit too much vigor before hurrying to your trailer.

Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you? you scold yourself as you pace around the room. Failure, or even mediocrity, are things you weren’t familiar with. You always excelled at everything you tried from the get-go in an almost effortless manner. What were you doing wrong?

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to figure out what it was that had been throwing you off your game recently, what sort of distraction has been on your mind so much that you couldn’t manage to focus on anything else…

There it was, the answer, as bright as day. Rosé. Somehow, you found it increasingly difficult to forget her laugh, mannerisms, the warmth of her skin against yours. You couldn’t even take the blouse you washed at her apartment from the bottom of your drawer—it smelled so much like her it became almost unbearable.

You swallow dryly at the realization. Whatever these... feelings you were experiencing meant, they weren’t doing you any good and only posed a threat to your career: which has always been something you valued over anything else. I’ll get over this. I need to get over this.

Taking a deep breath to center yourself, you walk back on set and towards the directors chair.

“Y/N?” he looks up from the pile of documents he’s reading through, surprised at the amount of determination written on your face, “Is everything okay?”

“I’m ready to do the scene again,” you tell him, “Properly this time.”

He hesitates, “Are you sure? I don’t mind if you need some more time to run over the lines or—”

“No,” giving him your most convincing smile, you gently shake your head. “I’m all ready.”

You know you did a good-enough job of faking confidence when he reciprocates your grin and calls for the staff to prepare the set again: you were an actress after all.

The next few days pass by in a blur. You manage to block out everything and solely focus on your role—pushing to film long after the director suggests to take a break or going over the script until early morning hours. You even try out a few of the things he suggested when you first started filming, such as spending more time outside of work with your co-star Eunwoo to “improve your chemistry on-screen”.

Eunwoo was conventionally attractive and a fan favorite, you knew that, but you still found yourself struggling trying to replicate any sort of organic attraction to him on set. But who’s to say a few friendly hang outs can’t fix that? You two arranged to go out for dinner a few times after work, dates which you can’t say you didn’t enjoy, but which arguably didn’t do much to improve your chemistry or make you want to rip his clothes off.

Additionally, you had to ignore the articles that popped up in all local tabloids the morning after every single one of your dinners. “Co-stars from an upcoming romantic drama, Y/N L/N and Cha Eunwoo, seen at a romantic dinner late last night—maybe art truly imitates life after all?”

Seeing another one of these pop up on your news feed made your stomach twist every day, but when Eunwoo asked to see another movie tomorrow night, you didn’t refuse.

You couldn’t let yourself think about the reason why you threw yourself into work so completely, what, or who, made you fill your schedule with appointments and meetings in an effort to keep your mind busy enough to push her to the brim. You had been ignoring Rosé’s messages and not returning her calls for at least a week now, and every time you saw her face plastered on a magazine or billboard, you felt your heart sink further into your chest.

It was a Saturday morning when, one of your few days off in a while, when you woke up to the sound of your phone ringing on your nightstand. Barely pulling the sleeping mask off your face, you grabbed the device and picked up without bothering to read the callers ID. “Yes?”

“Y/N?” the sound of the voice on the other side of the line gave you goosebumps, “It’s Rosie.”

“I know,” your morning voice is still raspy, but you feel more awake than ever, “Are you okay? What happened? Why are you calling so early?”

“Early? It’s 10:30 AM… were you still asleep?” you can almost hear the smile forming on her lips.

“No! No, I wasn’t,” you sit up from your bed and walk around the room, too nervous to stay still, “So what’s up?”

“Oh, right. I have a lunch reservation for 1 PM and Lisa cancelled on me so I was wondering if you’d like to join. I would have texted instead of calling but…” you had been ignoring me like the plague, her voice trails off with the words left unsaid hanging between you two.

You try to come up with an excuse on the spot, your brain still not fully awake and functioning. “When did you say it was for? 13:00?”

“Yes,” her voice is soft and quiet, almost shy. After pondering on the thought for a moment too long, you sigh: “I’ll be there—just text me the address.

After overthinking what to wear, how to style your hair and which lipstick shade matches your skin tint better for hours to no end, you finally arrive at the restaurant Rosé suggested. You walk through the café into the back garden, the black sunglasses sitting at the bottom of your nose bridge doing very little to conceal your identity. You find Rosé sitting at a table for two positioned under a cherry blossom tree. The summer dress she’s wearing makes her look even more breathtaking than usual and her newly bleached hair shines like a halo in the sunlight. You feel a tug in your chest and seriously contemplate just turning around and going home when she spots you walk in and waves you over to the table.

“Hi, sorry I’m a bit late.” you begin to apologize as she pulls you into a hug, the scent of her perfume you tried so hard to forget hits you like a brick.

Rosie just shakes her head and smiles, ever so forgiving. Both of you order a meal and a drink and then she goes on about her newest project. She mentions how excited she is for your drama and how you and Eunwoo make such a lovely couple (a statement that makes you choke on your lemonade, but which you decide not to disprove, for whatever reason).

You only chirp in when she directly asks you a question, otherwise concentrating all of your energy on not gawking at her like a creep for minutes at a time—a task which you find increasingly more difficult. Instead, you make yourself look around the restaurant, take a sip of your drink and a bite of your food every now and then, all while ignoring the heat in your cheeks and your uneven heartbeat.

Somehow, you manage to get through the lunch without any casualties and insist on paying for Rosé’s meal.

“Let me just ask my manager to come pick me up,” she grabs her phone and starts typing a text message.

Feeling bad for being such bad company throughout the meal, you force yourself to offer her a ride, “I could just drive you; my car is parked out front.”

She looks absolutely delighted, but only agrees after you’ve reassured her that its “absolutely no bother” about a million times.

If you found the lunch a bit uncomfortable, then the drive home is absolutely unbearable.

You both stay silent the whole time, and the radio playing quietly in the background does very little to break up toe awkward atmosphere.

It is only after you stop in front of her apartment building that Rosé turns to you, her face drained of any color whatsoever. “Y/N, I wasn’t going to say anything but… I’m not sure what I did wrong, but I understand that you’re upset with me. I—you’re one of my closest friends and I know it’s a bit ridiculous because we only met a few months ago...” she takes a deep breath and looks up, her eyes glossy with tears, “What I’m trying to say is, I really care about you. More than I’ve cared about anyone before. I don’t want to lose you so if I did something to upset you then please tell me. If you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, I understand and I’ll just..”

Your heart breaks as you watch her hands shake and eyes pool with tears. All this time you only thought about what would be best for you and what would make you the most comfortable—and for the meantime, that meant shoving your feelings deep inside instead of facing them head-on. It’s only now that you realize that’s how people get hurt: people you weren’t willing to hurt in order to stay blissfully ignorant.

“I’m not dating Eunwoo.” you cut in.

Rosé stares at you, taken aback, “You’re not? But why did you—”

“I just didn’t really want to delve into that.” You fiddle with your bracelet nervously.

“So you don’t like him? At all?”

You swallow dryly and shake your head: “No. I never liked him like that. I don’t… I don’t think I’m capable of liking anyone like him in that way.”

Her mouth hangs open as she stiffens in her seat, “Y/N..”

Without letting yourself think too much about your actions or their consequences, you reach over the center console and kiss her. Her lips are soft and taste faintly of champagne. Your mind feels perfectly clear for the first time in weeks—and yet the only thing you can manage to think about is Rosé. Her lips on yours, the scent of her perfume that still doesn’t fail to make you feel dizzy and the fact that she’s kissing you back.

Rosé puts her hands on your cheeks to pull you closer, the feeling of her skin sending shivers down your spine. She only phe pulls away at the sound of her phone ringing with an incoming call, her lipstick all messed up.

“Eunwoo is definitely out of the picture?” she smiles sheepishly.

You giggle, grabbing a tissue from your purse to fix her makeup, “He was never in it to begin with.”

She declines the call before putting her hand on the door handle, “That was my manager—I really have to go now but I’ll call you later?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Rosé gives you a quick peck on the lips before slipping out the car. You watch her turn around when she reaches her front door, waving at you wildly as she disappears inside. And now, the heavy feeling in your chest returns, but for a completely different reason.

304 notes · View notes

neonponders · 3 years

Text

I’ve never written Murder Boyfriends before, but @cuepickle ‘s art is just so lovely and powerful.

Based on this and this 💗 💜 🖤 (impending smut ahoy)

• • • • • • •

I just want to help, he’d said.

I just want to make things right, he’d said.

Steve said a lot of things. But he moaned incoherent words and exclaimed sounds he didn’t want anyone else to hear when Billy Hargrove steamrolled into his life, his feelings, and his goddamn morals.

Billy Hargrove wasn’t...right. He was twelve different shades of wrong, punctuated by Caribbean blue eyes and decorated with bronzed waves and curls. Steve knew he had a superiority complex, but he hadn’t known it was this bad.

Thing is, if he’d known, Steve couldn’t guarantee whether he’d change anything. Because knowing Billy Hargrove is a murderer would also mean Steve knew what his lips tasted like, and their softness against his neck.

All Steve had known was that Sheriff Hopper was missing, and his parents, being the upstanding white people that they are, deferred nearly every inconvenience to the police. And the police answered, because fat wallets keep their lights on, like everyone else.

But the Sheriff’s phones kept ringing. And maybe Steve had his own complex after so much time with Nancy, because he parked out front and strolled right into the Sheriff’s office.

The secretary wasn’t there.

Neither were the two deputies.

Steve tucked himself between the desks to pry apart the window blinds. Their cars were still here -

Steve’s head rotated at a sound he knew. He knew it in the way a memory piqued but he couldn’t place where or why. He followed it into the chief’s office...where Billy Hargrove sat at the desk - Hopper’s own chair - and ate a crisp apple from the strange pile in the waste paper basket.

“Billy?”

“Hi, Steve,” he smiled. Ankles crossed on the desk. A perfect, violet crescent framed the side of his eye. An indigo shadow rested in the inner corner of the other one. Either way, Steve’s first red flag was that he ached with concern more than itched for the nailed bat in his trunk.

“What happened to you?”

Steve thought the guy might choke, the way he tipped his head back to laugh while chunks of apple sat in his mouth. Naturally, it took him some time to chew and swallow before he said, “I finally stopped being afraid. And I started being responsible. Not the way he planned, though.”

“Hopper?” Steve frowned.

Billy did not answer immediately. He licked the apple like it might drip juice and beckoned, “Why don’t you sit down? I want to see you.”

The only lights on were in the main room where Steve stood. Ghoulish, fluorescent bulbs while Billy sat in shadow and vague, evening light hatching through the Chief’s window blinds. There was some kind of irony there: Steve in the fake, green-tinged light, and Billy in the natural...honest darkness.

Steve peeked behind him, surveying the room but finding no warnings apart from the negative space where people should be.

He stepped into the office -

“I’ve always liked looking at you.”

Steve paused on the carpet. Billy had said it loud enough to hear, but with enough air in it that Steve couldn’t tell if he was drunk or hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Then he tried to sit in one of the chairs -

“Over here. Sit on the desk.”

“What?” Steve blinked at him, suddenly very aware that the light gave Billy full view of his face but Steve only got the glow in that dark blond hair.

A strong leg pushed Billy away from the desk. The apple tumbled onto its pile of brothers, discarded as he pat the desk. “Sit right here.”

Steve shook his head all at once, beginning to backpedal out of the room. “This is weird.”

“No shit. This whole town’s weird. I’ve been reading some personal files in this room. I guess the Chief thought he was being smart, but...I’ve been hiding my whole life. I know where people hide things. A lot of things make sense in this place, now. The rat pack Max hangs out with. And you. A lot of things makes sense about you, Steve.”

Steve shrugged and his hands clapped against his thighs. “Okay? You’re not special for seeing my report cards.”

Billy’s features froze, but only for a moment, and then laughter burst out of him. “Steve, please sit down. God, I wanna touch you.”

Steve Harrington is a simple person. He’d officially been single for far too long, struck out every time he faced a woman - and a couple guys who were too scared or oblivious to do anything - and he just...

He wanted.

He wanted to be touched and if Billy was offering - Hot Stuff Hargrove, Baby Doll Eyes Billy - then Steve couldn’t help but take. He’d been so patient with everyone. He waited for Nancy to be ready. He accepted defeat when everyone walked away from him with rolling eyes or obligatory smiles.

Billy...talked. He talked and talked. He’d always been a talker; on the basketball court, barking orders as a lifeguard. Always talking, or letting his radio talk for him.

But Steve sat on Hopper’s desk and felt the warmth of Billy’s palms seep through his jeans. He held onto Steve’s calves as he talked. Talked about terrible things. Broken plates and abandoned things. Being the abandoned thing. Being the broken thing. He talked for hours before finally fucking Steve on that desk.

He’d started slow. Just unbuttoning the jeans and then leaving them alone. It would be another half hour before he took off Steve’s shoes. Every time Steve looked behind him - as if asking for someone to come in, to interrupt, to break this dark dream Billy wove around him - Billy said, “Look at me.”

“I’ve been looking at you, Billy.”

A small smile twitched on his lips. “Good.”

It would be another hour before he said, “I think my dad killed my mom.”

Less than a minute before he added, “He had it coming. Feel bad for my step-mom, though. But she was a screamer. So was the tall deputy. Things can finally be quiet now.”

Steve sat very still as arms circled around his pelvis and Billy just...hugged him. Pressed his face against Steve’s soft belly and inhaled his scent. Warm laundry and Steve Steve Steve.

He couldn’t be sure how things evolved into sex. Steve was already trapped in Billy’s web, so all he had to do was decide, to give the web a pluck and Steve felt the vibrations.

He planted his hands on the desk, lifting his ass for Billy to wrench the jeans and underwear off in one go. They got stuck on Steve’s feet, bunched up so Steve had to figure it out himself as Billy pressed himself over top of him.

The green desk lamp fell with an ominous clank.

Steve finally got a leg free and wrapped it around Billy’s ass the same time teeth found his neck. The warning bells that had been ringing since he got here felt far away; church bells too high over the town to actually make a difference in the goings-on.

Billy marked him up like he had paperwork to sign. Steve’s deed was his, and Billy moaned and grunted with every sigh he wrung out of Steve. Every squeeze to his waist made him moan, and he outright whimpered when Billy licked up his neck. For how much Billy gripped, bit, and sucked, he moved surprisingly gently below the belt.

“Gonna get lube later,” he said in that way again, traveling down Steve’s body as his thoughts escaped into the air. “I’m going to have your ass every which way, Harrington.”

Steve could only gasp as his tongue shoved inside him with no preamble. “I-I-I didn’t shower - ”

A guttural, breathy hum ricocheted from Billy’s throat and into Steve’s chest, knocking Steve’s head back like a rock on the way there. Billy’s stubble and gross wetness made Steve feel filthy in the best way. His cock lay heavily on his abdomen, spurting precum every time Billy’s hands squeezed the backs of his thighs.

Steve came like he’d never been touched in his life. His breathing picked up and he rutted against Billy’s face twice before making a mess of his shirt.

Billy took his slowly fading erection into his mouth, jerking himself off almost violently in a matter of seconds.

When Steve stepped outside, the air smelled like the sunrise even though only the faintest bit of blue had begun to dilute the darkness. And as the sun rose, Steve had never felt worse. It was like seeing a demogorgon for the first time, but instead of minutes, it stretched into hours.

People were dead.

Presumably Chief Hopper too.

Billy, he...he...

He showed up to Steve’s house with a smile and freshly laundered clothes. Steve had showered but looked like he hadn’t slept in a month. Billy only tipped his head back toward his car. “I’ve got two bank accounts freshly inherited. Let me buy you lunch.”

Steve wondered if Dustin’s comic book villains drove Camaros.

Billy bought him lunch. Bought him a chocolate milkshake too. Steve didn’t want to think about his ability to swallow those down so easily. Or how he interacted with the waitress like he wasn’t covered in red and brown love bites delivered directly atop Chief Hopper’s desk. He didn’t want to think what having all of Billy Hargrove’s attention on him did to his squirming...pleased...insides.

He didn’t want to think as Billy fingered him in the backseat.

They didn’t even fit back there but Billy moved with what felt like the strength of three men. It was arousing, being manhandled like that; any fear Steve ought to have held in his gut tapped its disapproving toe outside of the vehicle. The way Billy sucked behind his ear, gripped his hips so he could slot himself right in between Steve’s legs and rut his dark pink erection against Steve’s...

The way he bought Steve more milkshakes.

And a fresh tire rotation because his car veered to the left.

And filled him up in the darkness of Steve’s bedroom, making Steve bounce on his cock as he licked the taste of him off his lubed up fingers -

“You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

It just...came out.

The husky lust cleared from Billy’s eyes when Steve said that. Terror must have filled Steve’s eyes because Billy gently cradled the side of his head.

This is it. This is how I die. Wanting a freaking kiss from a psycho -

“I thought you’d be the one to do that.”

Steve blinked vacantly at him. He could feel Billy’s heartbeat inside his ass and the guy just smiled -

“King Steve. Never thought you were shy - mmph.”

Billy’s bravado melted against Steve’s mouth. He hummed as he felt Steve’s precum on his belly, soaking them both with what he did to him, did to Steve and all of his flawed moral systems.

Steve pushed Billy onto his back with his kiss, tongue desperately tasting and exploring his mouth as his fingers laced behind Billy’s neck.

Until Billy reached up and pulled Steve’s hands apart, just enough for the bases of his palms to sit on both pulse points.

Billy did it himself: made his cheeks go pink and his chest flush red. But Steve made his ass slap against Billy’s thighs. Made Billy’s jaw go slack and his orgasm slow. Made his eyes water and his chest heave when he could breathe again.

Maybe that was his chance. His chance to make things right.

But with an empty Sheriff’s office down the road, and still no one the wiser, Hawkins wasn’t living by any sort of right anymore. The only right that Steve knew, was Billy’s hands making him feel powerful and precious.

#harringrove #murder boyfriends #tw asphyxiation #ficlet #neonponders #cuepickle #hawt #murder boyfriends with a side of trophy boyfriend?

127 notes · View notes

aghostpost · 3 years

Text

The Hard-J (Victor Creed x Reader)

A/N: I know I said it would be ready by the weekend but... it wasn’t! Excuses only work for those that make them, so I won’t bother lmao~ This one is for @queengiuliettafirstlady and everyone else that loves a little Victor Creed intensity. ♥

“Can we not do this today, please?”

“What the hell was that about?” He slammed the door after him as I went to my kitchen to put groceries away.

“He saw me walking back from the store, that’s it.”

“That’s it, huh? What did I say about hangin’ out with him?”

“We weren’t hanging out! I told you, he saw me walking and he was helping me carry a few things. That. Is it.”

“You see how he talks to me? How he’s always talked to me-“

“-I see two brothers who, for whatever reason, can’t seem to hack it.”

“We aren’t brothers.”

I rolled my eyes, shoving my peanut butter and fudge swirl ice cream into the freezer. “Brothers in arms.”

“Because there’s no damn respect! Always lookin’ down at me like he’s some kinda fuckin’ superior.”

“Vic…”

“I don’t want you around him. You hear me?”

I let out an exasperated sigh as I rolled my eyes. “It’s too hot to argue about this shit.”

“You’re the one arguing instead of just agreeing, Y/N.”

“Your relationship with Logan is just that: yours. I have no problem with the guy.”

“If I see you two together again-“

“- Do not end that sentence with a threat, Victor-“

“- I’ll do you one better and end it with a guaran-fucking-tee!”

“We live in the same city, I’m bound to run into him sometimes!”

“Y/N look at me… Hey!” He shouted, making me jump out of my skin as I gave him my undivided attention. Clearly he was serious, which he tended to be. But this time, more serious than normal.

He was always so very dead serious whenever we talked about Logan.

“I don’t care if you’re next door neighbors with him. If I see you two with each other again, it will not end well.”

“For him? Or for me?”

“Both o’ you.”

I stared him down and watched him do the same, his face cold hard steel, not even a muscle flexing as he spoke to me. “What the hell happened between you two, anyway?” I asked. “What did he do that’s so damn bad you’re forbidding me to even say hi? He kill your cat or somethin’?”

He smirked and let out a huff of a chuckle, his left fang peeking from behind his lips. “You think I’m kiddin’?”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away from me to continue putting the food away. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I’ll stay away from him, Victor. Whatever the hell makes-” I couldn’t finish my sentence before I heard the loud crash of glass breaking. I whipped around and saw a wet puddle dripping on my wall, the floor beneath it decorated with broken glass and what was a very nice bouquet of assorted flowers. “Are you shitting me?!”

“Oh, I got your attention now?”

“You had it! You’re throwing a temper tantrum, breaking my shit, all because you’re jealous of someone I’m not even interested in?”

“Jealous?” he questioned as he slowly stalked towards me, like a predator carefully eyeing its prey. I was no stranger to Victor's temper; under the right circumstances, he could go from settled to up in flames with the snap of a finger. Maybe it’s because he was never really at ease, always ready to pounce at any moment’s notice if necessary. Yeah, I know he has little patience and is kinda trigger happy to get into a fight, his own source of entertainment. But that was with other people, strangers. With me, he exercised a lot more restraint. We’d have arguments, he’d yell, maybe hurt a wall and then storm off.

But whenever Logan was involved, it was a different story...

“You need to relax,” I warned as I slowly backed away from him, ready to defend myself if necessary, even if I knew it was a losing battle.

“Did you just say I was jealous of him?”

“Are you?”

“What reason do I have to be jealous?”

“You tell me. What is it, Vic? You think I’m gonna run off with him into the sunset? You come over here one day to see me, all my shit is packed up and I leave a note behind? I doubt he’d throw my shit around like you just did.”

“I bought you those damn flowers,” he growled.

“You gonna buy the replacements too?” I asked playfully, trying to diffuse the tension but failing. It was painfully obvious, literally, he wasn’t in the mood to play when I felt his fist grip me like a boa constrictor. He forced my head against the kitchen cabinet behind me and got close to my face. If he moved any closer he’d be able to taste the chive cream cheese bagel I had on the way over here.

“Now that all depends…”

“Victor, let go of me. Now.”

“What’s the matter, hm? I thought you liked it rough?” he spoke with a tone of warning before a lecherous grin spread across his face. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t release a flutter deep in my belly, my incessant desire for him threatening to surface. It was embarrassing and admittedly disgusting to me, how even in moments as such, there was always going to be some shred of me that could neither ignore nor deny my constant thirst for him to satisfy me in ways only Victor knew how.

“You’ve made your point.” I tried to remain calm while fighting for air. I was willing to bet money that he could feel my pulse quickening beneath his grip. If even one of his claws came out I’d be bleeding out all over the linoleum.

“Have I?”

“You have five seconds to get the fuck off of me... or I walk.” He stared me in the eye only a few seconds longer before relinquishing his grip. If there was anything I caught on to in the seven months we’ve been seeing each other, if that’s even what you wanna call him dropping by for food, sex and quality conversation with a solid night’s rest, it’s that he actually greatly enjoyed having me in his life. He would never admit it, of course, being the poster boy for hypermasculinity; no way he’d display the level of emotion required to confess he liked me. But I picked up on it in subtle ways he probably doesn’t even notice. The way he throws his arm over me in his sleep, subconsciously keeping me in place with him. The way he came over and pretended it was just for sex, when we wouldn’t wind up having sex at all. The flowers he bought me, before throwing them to the wall in a rage. Most importantly, the way he wouldn’t stay gone long after a fight and would come back with his tail tucked in ready to apologize, afraid that would be the fight that finally scared me off and into the arms of someone else. I wasn’t using that to my advantage here, but I was letting him know what we both knew but never spoke of:

He wanted me around. He liked me.

I took a moment to allow oxygen to return to my lungs before I addressed him. “I pushed a button o’ yours with that little J-word?”

“What on Earth gave you that idea?” he asked sarcastically.

I nodded. “Fine. Noted. But I promise you, next time you use your words, because if you ever think about putting your hands on me again-”

“-Now you’re ending sentences with threats?”

“Guarantees, right?” I stalked to the corner of the kitchen and grabbed the broom that was wedged between the wall and my fridge then slammed it into his chest. “Dust pan behind the fridge,” was all I said before making my way to the bedroom.

“We’re not done-”

“-I am.” The moment I turned the corner out of the kitchen he was following me, the broom loudly clapping against the kitchen floor. The same hand that was just wrapped tightly around my throat was now finding its way around my waist along with his other one, pressing me to the wall. “Victor-“

“-I’ll getcha new flowers.”

“Fuck the flowers and fuck you.” He wasn’t hearing any of it. He grabbed my wrists and began making his way to the couch, my legs clumsily bumping into any and everything I walked towards.

“I’m not gonna pour my heart out an’ tell you all the fucked up things about me, if that’s what you’re waitin’ for me to do.”

“Mutant in human world. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“And I’m not tellin’ you the textbook of reasons I’m not holdin’ hands with him either.”

“And I’m not agreeing to stay away from him for your reasons and personal grudges unknown.”

“So maybe I didn’t make myself as clear as I thought.” Before I was aware the back of my legs bumped into the arm of my couch. I was desperate to create some sort of distance between us, so I fell backwards and wiggled away to the far opposite end of the couch. He stood at my feet and without breaking eye contact, lifted the loose black henley from his chest. He was possibly the only person I knew that could wear black and long sleeves in the peak of a summer in the city without breaking a sweat. But now wasn’t the time to be impressed by minor things.

“It’s too hot for this, too.”

“You tellin’ me no?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” he asked as he continued advancing in my direction, fumbling with the belt on his jeans as he kicked his shoes off.

“Because I don’t feel like it. You’re not about to makeup sex your way out of putting your hands on me, dick.”

He shrugged to himself. “You never turned it down before.”

“Well, you know what they say the definition of insanity is, right…”

“Doin’ the same shit, expecting different results.”

“And I want different results, Victor.”

“Fine. So let’s try somethin’ different.” Without a word or warning he bent down and scooped me up, a hand firmly resting under each of my thighs, my legs snaked around his waist. I thought he was headed towards the bedroom, but he took a surprising left turn to the apartment balcony, gripping me tightly before using a hand to open the sliding glass door. The humidity instantly smothered me, my glasses fogging from the shock of being exposed to the summer heat after leaving my air conditioned living room. He sat in one of the wicker seats of my patio set and placed me in his lap, lifting my sundress so I could straddle him free of obstruction. He placed me directly onto his cock and was not gentle about it; my head instantly fell back as a rush of air escaped my chest, my hands finding his neck.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“Exactly.”

“Shut the hell up.” There was no time for playful banter. The sun had only just started to set, meaning there was still plenty daylight for us to be seen; this had to be quick. And quiet. Quiet would be the hard part without a doubt. With his help, I lifted my body up and down, his fingertips digging into my hips as he held tightly to my waist. “Holy shit, Vic.”

“Still think I’m jealous?”

I grinned to myself. “I dunno; you’re fuckin’ me like you got somethin’ to prove,” I teased. Clearly there was jealousy but I knew better than to answer him with a yes. But if jealousy is this good a sexual motivator, I’d be happy with this silver lining to our fight. He lifted my dress up more, enough for him to expose my tits and seize my right one with his mouth. My head fell back, a cry escaping me when I felt the sharp stab of his teeth on the mound of flesh. “Fuck!” He growled, his mouth vibrating slightly around my nipple.

“Ya still gonna run away and leave a note?” he asked, the heat from his mouth making toes curl.

“Never.” Unless he pushed me to it, of course.

I felt the pads of his fingertips press my scalp, my hair tightly intertwined in his digits as he pulled my head back and forced me to make eye contact. “Don’t threaten to walk again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Or else?” I mocked.

He shook his head, his pelvis ceasing, the rapid rise and fall of our chests the only movement remaining between us. “No. Just don’t.”

I stared at him a moment longer and simply nodded before standing and turning around, lifting my dress over my head, then taking the rusty balcony rail in my hands to steady myself. I turned to look at him; to my surprise he was already stroking himself in the absence of something else warm wrapped around his cock. “Whatcha waitin’ for?”

“Can’t enjoy the view?”

“Enjoy it any longer and I’m gonna melt.”

“Someone other than me hungry for it?” he said with a hard slap to my right cheek before roughly re-entering from behind, making me jerk forward into the hot metal rail. I grunted at the pain in effort not to be too loud and settled comfortably on him, my body fitting him like a glove. He was in no way gentle as he thrust himself in and out of me, primal grunts escaping his chest every time his hips rammed into my ass. My tits would surely be bruised the way I was uncomfortably pressed into the railing. I stared at the rusted and flaking metal coating of the bars beneath my arms and fought to keep my legs from collapsing beneath me, every bone in my limbs turning to apple sauce, my muscles sore and aching. If only this kind of workout kept me in shape and was doctor recommended. And quiet as I was, there was nothing I could do to muffle the loud smack that echoed in the air when Victor got slap happy, or the sound that came from my mouth as a result. The funny thing was, the more I tried to shush him, the more intensely he fucked me, and the more sound we both ended up making.

“Sss, holy fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Vic! Shit!” I cried out, the restraint I had for my volume loosening. On a slower day I would have had a bit more self control, but I never lasted long, or quietly, when he was in a more animalistic mood.

“Mm, that’s right,” he grunted, digging his fingers into my hip bones. “Lemme have it, baby.” And before I knew it I did exactly that. My legs gave out beneath me and I fell to my knees, failing to hold myself up on the balcony railing any longer as I came. My moans were beyond stifling, and I felt nothing else, not even the pools of sweat pouring out of me. For just a moment I’d fallen into a deep well of ecstasy, my head throbbing from the mix of summer heat and pleasure, before I regained some composure to return the favor.

I grabbed the thin cushion from my patio chair and placed it at his feet and knelt before him, taking him into my mouth as deep as I could. As hungrily as I could. Without hesitation his hands flew to my head, cradling the back of my skull and maneuvering me to a pace of his pleasure. “Atta girl,” he encouraged. He knew I was a sucker for praise, and after being a complete asshole I was expecting him to lay it on with the ass kissing for the rest of the evening. Now he had me working like I was the jealous one, when really I was only in competition with myself; I wanted to see if I could make him cum quicker than any of the other times I did this. I worked my head in a swivel and both of my hands in opposing twisting motion, pulling him into me as far as I could without biting off more than I could chew. It was useless, however, since Victor was determined to push my head down way past my limits. His hips undulated as he thrust his dick deeper and deeper into my throat. He’d momentarily pause and hold his place before pulling out to allow me to draw air, all before repeating the process. “Look at me,” he demanded, which was all he needed to say for me to know what time it was. I stared upwards at him with his cock still in my mouth, my eyes glassy with tears, and he pushed himself deep into my throat one final time and pumped the tip of his dick at the back of my throat. He held eye contact for as long as he could before his head fell backwards, eyes slamming shut as I felt the muscles of his thighs tighten. He grunted a low, beastlike growl before I felt him release all he had to offer in my throat, the sensation slightly tickling. I slowly jerked his dick off for good measure to ensure I got him for every drop before swallowing the thick, sticky fluid, swirling my tongue around his tip before he removed himself from my mouth.

“Ah, Jesus fuck,” he sighed, his chest rising and falling as he tried to recover.

“I think I missed that Sunday school lesson.” He rolled his eyes and looked down at me, head still resting in his lap, before rising and extending a hand. I grabbed and he pulled me up, coming face to face with him and the wild grin plastered on his face. “Back inside before my ass gets covered in bug bites.”

“I could scratch it for ya,” he offered, running a claw harmlessly up my spine. I shivered and pushed away from him before round two threatened to begin, sliding the balcony door open, relieved once the ice cold air conditioning hit my chest.

“No thanks. But you absolutely can buy me another bouquet of flowers. And a vase, while you’re at it.”

#request #victor creed #victor creed x reader #reader imagine

214 notes · View notes

twinklelilstarkey · 4 years

Text

Secret - Rafe Cameron

[Requested]

Words: 3.9k+

Type: Fluff & Smut

Summary: Pogue!Y/N and Rafe have been dating for over a year and she has been keeping it a secret ever since.

Warnings: Fem!Reader. Quite bad writing, if you’re expecting an amazing smut, I’m sorry in advance. Mentions of Alcohol. Mentions of cheating (Sarah & Topper). IF YOU ARE MINOR, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS!!

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Part 2

Imagine how your life would be if you were a pogue and worked at a restaurant part time (which also does cater for many events in the island) yet dated a member of the richest family in the whole Outer Banks.

Now, that would be the big talk of the island, right?

Unless they didn’t know a thing.

And that is your reality. Nobody knows that you date Rafe, and you’re quite proud of how you two have been able to hide every single interaction.

Yes, there were very close calls a few times, but there was never once a day where you two were close to being caught.

Working as a waitress and caterer for most of the Cameron’s events was always a good enough justification for the two of you to be talking. So, nobody suspected a thing.

Not even Sarah. And not only are you insanely close (which is also bad for your friendship with the pogues), you don’t even know how many times you’ve slept over.

She never cared enough for her brother to know who sleeps with in his bed, so that worked in your favor as well.

“Wait, mom” You say while dragging the white box over in the back of your family’s car, “Weren’t we supposed to take the sliders in two boxes instead of a big one?”

As your mom studied you while deep in thought to check if you’re right, you lean on the side of the car as your phone starts to vibrate on your back pocket.

You pull it out to check who it is, and you decide to ignore it since it’s JJ asking if there’s any scraps from the food you’re taking to the Midsummers’ event.

“I think Rose told me yesterday by the phone that it could be one box” Your mom says, “We just have to be careful so that they don’t ‘look smushed’”

You grin at the sight of your mom air quoting the Rose’s words with a small annoyed look. Not that your mom doesn’t like Rose. She can’t, she’s her biggest client. And also gives amazing tips at the end of each event. But she is indeed annoying.

“That’s fine then” You say while shrugging.

“Can you go grab the last box while I go through everything?”

“Yeah, of course”

You run back in the house and go in the kitchen to get the last white box filled to the top with food. You don’t even know what you’re carrying sometimes.

You do have the curiosity to peek and check the delicious, yet cold food that your mom and her coworkers prepared. But ever since you tried to peek at the deserts and instead you saw a bunch of uncooked marinated meat. You never had the desire to do it again.

The disappointment was just too big.

You close the trunk once the last box is well put away and secured and walk all the way back to the driver’s seat.

“You have all the lists with you, right?” You check with your mom before driving off.

“Yes, Y/N. I will not forget them again”

(…)

“Rose, my dear, how are you?” Your mom asks right as she spots the blonde woman standing at the front of the mansion.

“I’m great, how are you?” Rose answers with a slightly less excited tone.

You jump out of the car as two men start walking towards it to help carrying everything to the back, where the event is going to take place.

“Y/N, I didn’t even see you there” Rose says as you open the trunk.

You look up at her and give her a small smile, followed by a whispered ‘hi’. You tell the workers where to take the white boxes with the desserts and you grab one with the raw meat (to be grilled later).

“Sarah is in the back, helping with the last decorations, if you want to go talk to her” Rose tells you as you walk past her, and you give her another small smile.

“Thank you”

You walk in the mansion and start to make your way to the backyard, finding Sarah standing on top of a ladder.

“Y/N!” She shouts as you walk out to stand beside her ladder, “What’s in the box?”

“Just… You know…” You start while looking up at her, “Food”

“Oh, come on! Let me just peek!”

“Nop”

You walk away from Sarah as she almost throws herself off the ladder to reach you faster. You make your way over to Heyward, Pope’s dad, but also one of the best cooks in all the rich events.

“I brough you the meats” You say with a playful tone as you’re close enough for him to hear you.

“Thank you, sweetheart” He says with a smile, finding what you said quite funny.

“Oh” Sarah says as she gets close to you, “It’s raw meat? I almost fell off of there and ran this whole backyard for raw meat?”

“Yes, Sarah Cameron” You say with a smile, “You sure did”

Once Heyward is done with storing the meat close to the griller, you turn back to the house, in hopes to get back to work, and Sarah lays her arm over your shoulders.

“How’s your day going?” She asks you.

“Going well, even though I would’ve preferred to stay home and watch a show on Netflix” You admit as you walk up the porch, “What about you?”

“It’s going great, I’m actually excited to this year’s Midsummers. Are you going to stay here the whole night?”

“As a worker, yeah”

“What? But I want to have some fun with you” Sarah says, sounding deeply saddened, “Can we at least share a drink? Like the old days” (old days aka last year)

“At the back, with all the waiters. Sure” You say with a smile.

Sarah groans loudly beside you as you keep walking towards the front door to look for your mom.

“Where’s the rest of your family?” You ask Sarah.

“Getting ready at home. Dad’s going to get here later than everyone since Rose still has to go home and change. Rafe, I believe, is coming in with the guys. And Wheezie… I have no idea, honestly”

“Oh okay”

“Why? Are you choosing me over one of my siblings?” She asks playfully.

“I mean…” You start, making her glare at you, “Wheezie is superior out of all of you”

Sarah gasps loudly but soon erupts into laugher as she almost chokes in her own spit. Once she regains her energy and composure, she speaks again.

“At least you didn’t say Rafe”

You breathe in at her words, holding back any physical way to show your distress over them and smile a bit.

“Yeah”

(…)

Two hours went by and the once empty mansion is now filled with all the rich families from the island. You have spent most of your time checking on all the boxes of food and other things, such as the small bags that each guest will take home (filled with seasonal dried flowers and overly expensive snacks).

Rose has always been a fan of these small bags, which means that she’s also overly obsessed with them being perfect and just like she imagined them.

And yes, you are just one of the caters, but since your mom is friends with Rose, your services are also brought up and offered in conversations many times as a ‘thank you for choosing us’.

You’re quickly surrounded with people wearing expensive, yet beautiful, dresses and suits.

Some of them mistaking you for a waitress and requesting drinks, in which you answered with a ‘sure’ before running to nearest waiter.

You’re wearing a white t-shirt tucked in your light purple cargo pants (color picked by Rose). The logo of your mom’s business is printed on the back of your shirt. And even with that, it still makes you stand out as much as the other colorful guests.

“Take this to the back, please” You hear someone say to the team of waiters behind you.

You snap back to reality and restart counting the bags laying on the table. As soon as you reach the last five, a wave of clapper fills your ears.

You look over your shoulder and the Cameron family walks down the white porch confidently.

Your eyes travel from Rose, all the away over to Wheezie, admiring the floral dress that her mom had chosen for her.

Rafe walks out behind Sarah, his eyes glued to the ground, ignoring the clapping around him (probably finding it an exaggeration). You hold your gasp at the sight of how amazing he looks, and before you could admire him for any longer, your mom screams for you.

“Y/N” Your mom calls, and you look back at her, “Can you give your opinion on something?”

You walk over to her, looking at the many drinks that are stored with the marinated meats.

“Don’t you think that this way too much alcohol for just the food that we’re doing out here?”

“Yeah, but Heyward might need more than we think” You say while shrugging, “You know how he is with his recipes”

She nods before answering.

“I’m starting to think his big secret ingredient is just alcohol. We’re just too drunk to taste it”

You roll your eyes at your mom’s dry joke and she chuckles at your expression.

“Sarah! Hi, sweetheart” Your mom says, looking at the person behind you.

“Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. How’s everything going so far?” Sarah asks with a smile, being as cheerful and nice as your mother.

“Going great. You look amazing, by the way”

“Oh, why, thank you”

You stay in the middle of the conversation for a little bit more and your eyes travel through the guests, trying to see if someone needs something.

You find Rafe leaning back on the railing of the porch while talking to Kelce, Topper and two other friends; he looks somewhat entertained, which surprised you.

“Can I steal Y/N for a minute?” Sarah asks.

“Of course, she has done so much work so far. She’s free to go” Your mom answers.

Sarah pulls you by the hand with her to the middle of the party and starts taking you inside of the house.

“I need to tell you something very important” She says to you.

“A new gossip?”

“No. A new update in my life”

You two walk faster up the porch and you slow down, letting go of Sarah’s hand, when Kie notices you.

“Hi” She says with a smile.

You two share a small and quick hug and Sarah stands by you awkwardly, not wanting to disrupt your moment with her ex best friend. Kie looks her way and her eyebrows lift in annoyance.

“Will you be working all night?” She asks and you nod, “That’s a bummer, I wanted to hang out with you more”

“Me too. Once I find another free time tonight, I’ll try to find you”

“I’ll wait for that” She says with a smile, “Now go, I’m sure she needs to talk to you”

You look back at Sarah, who isn’t even bothering enough to give the dirty look back, and you grab her hand again, as a way to say, ‘let’s go’.

You two walk past the guys, that didn’t even notice you (or at least that’s what you think), and go find somewhere quiet to talk.

“Please don’t judge me for what I’m going to say to you” She starts, “It’s something very recent and unexpected”

Once you nod, she blurs it all out.

“John B?” You ask with a confused look, “You’re dating John B?”

“Not dating-dating” She corrects, “We’re… something”

“So, almost dating” You conclude, and she sighs, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just shocked. But why now? Didn’t he work for your dad for years?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t exactly know him at the time” She explains, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Of course not,” You say, and she sighs in relief. “But, Sarah- What about Topper?”

“I’ll break up with him”

Those words hit you like a train almost. Over the year you’ve been dating Rafe, Topper and you have started an amazing friendship. He would always help you find excuses when you would be almost found with Rafe, or something of the sort.

And one thing you know about him, is how much he actually cares for Sarah.

Not that you want to pressure Sarah into continuing a relationship with Top just because you’re friends with him. Of course not. You just think he deserves a good explanation on why everything is going on, and not just a simple ‘I don’t want to date you anymore’. And Sarah is extremely bad at that.

But yeah, you don’t know what is going on in their relationship, therefore, you can’t judge Sarah’s actions all that much.

“You won’t tell him, right?” Sarah asks you, snapping you back to reality, “I know you two are friends but, I want to be the one telling him”

“Of course. I won’t say a thing”

(…)

“Y/N!” You hear someone scream from behind you, “I’ve missed you”

You look at the person, to find Topper, exactly where he was previously with Rafe and Kelce. But this time, he’s only with Kelce.

“I’ve missed you too” You say with a small smile, walking towards them, “Where’s Rafe?”

“Getting a drink, I think”

Topper lays his arm over your shoulders and pulls you in closer to him.

“How’s the event going for you?” He asks.

“Fantastic” You sarcastically answer.

“It’s not going that well for us either” Kelce adds, “These events are always so boring”

You agree with him with a nod and someone appears next to you, Rafe. You eye him up and down, admiring the suit that was chosen for him, and he looks down at you.

“Shouldn’t you be working, Y/L/N?” He asks teasingly and Topper chuckles beside you.

“Fuck off, would you?”

A smile appears in his face and he looks up to look through the large amount of people.

“Where’s my sister?” He asks when looking back down.

You look at him confused.

“Drinking somewhere, why?”

“Inside?” He asks and you look at Topper and Kelce even more confused, trying to find some answers for his questions.

“Yes?”

“Can you show me?”

You blink at him a few times in silence while looking at him and slowly nod. You lean way from Topper and start walking towards the door you just walked off.

“Have fuuuun” Kelce sings and you look back at him.

Something in your mind clicks and you feel like the dumbest person alive. You look back at Rafe and he’s straight up laughing at your dumbfounded face.

“Oh my god” You whisper to yourself and keep walking.

You two walk back inside the room, filled with a lot of waiters chaotically working and some richer parents having their drink in the silence.

Some look up at Rafe and recognized him. They tried to start a conversation, which never goes past ‘hi’, but nothing that they’re used to getting for the young adult/teen rich kids.

His eyes stay glued on the ground as you two walk, sometimes carelessly looking up at your ass, which looks marvelous in those pants.

“Upstairs” He says so low that you almost don’t even hear him.

You two walk quickly up the stairs and as soon as you start making your way to one of the many empty rooms in the mansion.

Rafe’s arm circles your waist and pulls you against him as he holds your face with his other hand, pressing kisses all over your face.

Your giggles fill the hallway, echoing through the walls, and he makes a turn so the two of you enter a room. As he struggles to open the door, you turn around in his arms and smile up at him. He smiles back and pushes you in the room.

The door closes behind him and your lips touch right on that same second.

Right outside of the door and at the top of the stairs stands a lost JJ, looking for Sarah so he can finally give John B’s little note.

Or should he say Vlad?

They’re weird.

Rafe pulls your t-shirt from inside your pants and his hands attach to your skin under it. Goosebumps erupt through your skin as his cold skin touch yours. You get rid of his bowtie in a quick tug and start unbuttoning the first buttons of his dress shirt.

JJ walks through the hallways, kicking the ground in boredom, and looks at all the closed doors.

Should he peek inside each one?

But there are so many.

Rafe’s expensive blazer hits the ground and he picks you up once you pull away from the kiss. He sits you on top of the desk and pulls away to help you take off your shoes.

As they hit the ground loudly, your hands clasp into his cheeks and you pull him for another soft kiss.

Rafe smiles into the kiss and pushes you to lay down on the desk. He throws the unused notebooks, pens and blank books onto the ground, making you chuckle at his desperation.

JJ lifts his head at the loud noise and looks through the closed doors confused.

What in the hell was that?

“JJ?” Kie asks and JJ jumps at the sudden sound.

“Jesus Christ” He says while laying his hand over his chest.

“What are you doing here?”

He can’t tell her that he’s here to give something to Sarah. Especially that that something was given to him by John B.

“Uhm… Looking for…” He starts, itching the back of his head, “Pope and Y/N”

“Oh, Pope is with his dad in the backyard and I’m also looking for Y/N”

JJ nods at her words while biting the inside of his cheek and Kiara continues to stare, expecting him to say something else.

Once you unbutton the last button of his shirt, your hands move over to Rafe’s abs and up his chest softly. His kisses on your neck are slow and loving, his hands do most of the work, getting rid of your clothes.

As the zipper of your pants is heard, he moves up to kiss your lips again. His hand slides in your pants and underwear and you moan into the kiss.

“Why are you up here?” JJ asks.

“Looking for Y/N?” Kie answers.

Didn’t she just tell him that?

“Right. Of course,”

Rafe’s finger moves in circular motions over your clit and you moan louder as he does it. He pulls away from the kiss and smirks down at you as he also moves his hands away.

As you were getting ready to protest your distress, he grabs the top of your pants and tugs them down with your underwear.

Once they hit the floor, you ‘help’ him unbutton his pants and they easily fall down when past his thighs. You lick your lips and Rafe pulls you back to your laying position.

“As much as I would love you if you did that. We don’t have much time” He whispers into your lips and you nod.

Your shirt had fallen down from you sitting up, so it covered most of your naked body, but Rafe was quick to lay you back and get a grip onto your hips, bringing them right to the end of the table.

You gasp loudly at the feeling of his boxers against you and before he stands up, he moves down and presses a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh.

He stands back up and you wrap your legs around his hips so he can come closer. He smiles down at you and positions his hands on top of the elastic of his boxers, making you bite your lip at the simple sigh of his bulge.

“Maybe we should go check downstairs, this is empty” Kie says, noticing that JJ won’t say anything else.

“How do you know? All the doors are closed”

“Well, I don’t see Y/N closing herself in a room when she’s working” She says, “Let’s go”

JJ nods and as soon as Kie turns around, he starts following her back to the stairs.

On half of their back down, Sarah appears, very much to JJ’s relief but Kie’s annoyance.

“What were you two doing upstairs?” She asks.

“Nothing you deserve to know” Kie answers.

Sarah rolls her eyes and continues to go up the stairs as Kie mocks her voice and movements while making her way down them. JJ uses their hatred to his advantage and in a quick movement shoves the small piece of paper in Sarah’s hand.

“Oh fuck, Rafe” You moan out loud, back arching in pleasure as Rafe hisses out loud.

Rafe thrusts into you once more, slowly picking up his pace. His eyes move from down to your face. He brings one of his hands up and covers your mouth, before speeding up.

You moan into his hand and grip into his wrist, closing your eyes.

“Open your eyes baby, come on” Rafe says in a deep voice and you do as told.

His hand moves down over your neck and as soon as he wraps his hand around it, a malicious smile grows on his face.

“What is this?” Sarah asks to JJ.

“Vlad told me to give this to you” He answers, winking at her and running off to follow Kie out of there.

Sarah opens the piece of paper confused yet excited and smiles down at it.

She continues to walk upstairs discreetly, planning on just to go check on her makeup in the bathroom before going to see John B.

And as she continues to make her way up the stairs, her big and white flowy dress is noticeable enough.

“Fuck-” Rafe whispers and your grip intensifies on his arm.

The pleasure was getting easily out of control for you, and as soon he lifts his other hand off your hip and brings it down, starting to play with your clit. Bringing you over the moon.

“Rafe- Clos-” You try to say out loud but fail horribly with not only the pleasure but also the pressure on your neck.

“Come for me, baby”

His words were literally the only thing that you needed, his hand moves away from your throat and covers your mouth, letting air back into your lungs but isolating your possible sounds.

The pleasure hits you with an amazing strength, erupting all through your body. Your eyes roll back with the intense feeling and Rafe groans loudly at how tight you feel.

Sarah walks down the hallway without a care in the world, in hopes that she’ll find the bathroom, she had found last year, quickly.

“Sarah! What are you doing here?!” Topper shouts from the other side of the hallway.

She looks back at him, annoyed expression over her face at the unnecessary volume.

“Do you have to scream?!” She screams back just as loud.

Rafe groans against the crook of your neck as he comes off his high, the only thing you two could hear was both of you heavily breathing.

Your fingers run through Rafe’s hair as he places sweet kisses from your neck to your lips.

“What are you doing up here?” Topper’s voice sounds from the hallway.

The two of you quickly sit up as a reflex and look at each other with widen eyes.

You are fucked.

- - - - -

Quite literally. I’m so sorry that this smut is so trash! I’m actually trying, I promise. I’m just not a natural, I guess.

#rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks rafe

772 notes · View notes

loversamongus · 4 years

Text

Controlled Emotions | Zuko x Reader

a/n: all these fics end up being the reader as an advisor, I have zero creativity. anyways this is inspired by the song “every single night” by computer games because I was listening to it one day and the first lyric just screamed zuko to me idk so here it is. also i didnt proofread this oops

word count: 1.5k

fic taglist:

Advisor meetings have been tense lately. While a mixture of advisors in age, gender, and political leanings was ideal for gaining multiple perspectives on an issue, it also led to frequent arguments about what was best for the Fire Nation and deadlines being pushed back until the majority of advisors have come to an agreement. Though rewarding at times, the job was certainly frustrating. But all that paled in comparison to the most recent audiences with the young Fire Lord.

Frustrated by another deadline requested to be pushed back, the Fire Lord’s temper had surged throughout the throne room. You didn’t disagree with him either. People in a small fishing village were becoming seriously ill and many signs seemed to point to the mutations and disease in some of the fish from the river as a result of years of pollution from war efforts.

“It is not your fault the regime before yours was so ignorant of the people’s needs and other environmental factors.”

“In all honesty, who in their right mind would eat a fish with two heads anyways?”

“The river had been supposedly cleaned by the Avatar and his friends shortly before the end of the war, shouldn’t the responsibility lie with them?”

One after another, an advisor countered the Fire Lord’s efforts to financially back abundant medical aid for the fishing village. One after another, flames grew higher and higher nearly scorching the ceiling as the Fire Lord sat quietly. You noticed his scrunched up expression and knew it was only a matter of time before--

“Am I not, as Fire Lord, responsible for everyone living in the Fire Nation? Am I not, having been Prince of the Fire Nation during the war, responsible for how the war had affected our people? How can we sit here and deny help to our own people who are suffering?!”

After an uncomfortable silence, only one advisor stood up to speak. “And what, Fire Lord Zuko, do you plan to do about those injured in the fights breaking out in the colonies? Or the troops returning home from war injured and jobless? Or the villages in the Earth Kingdom burned down by our nation’s doing? There are many responsibilities this nation bears but solving these problems must be done with appropriate organization and objectiveness, not youthful bullheadedness.”

And with that, the audience was dismissed.

With no clear resolution in sight, you had made your way to the advisors’ chambers to work on new proposals despite the late night. Getting down the business is usually easy but the otherwise empty and quiet workspace was not as calming and focused as you had hoped. It may have been well past sundown, but bright bursts of light kept erupting and peeking through the windows of the chambers, distracting you every time you went to read or write a new sentence. Having been an advisor for some time now and becoming familiar with the layout of the palace, you knew exactly where the light was coming from.

Abandoning your work, you walked the grounds until you reached the gates of the training space. Sure enough, your suspicions had been correct as you eyed Zuko in the center of the pitch running through different firebending forms. It was a surprise however that only the fire blasting from his fists and feet was what distracted you from your work. You hadn’t heard the angry grunts and yells from the advisors’ chambers.

The sound of the gate closing behind you was enough to make Zuko stop and look up at you. But he simply acknowledged your presence with a nod before continuing into the next set of firebending forms. You took a seat to watch on the sidelines. The silence did not bother you. In fact, it gave you time to relax from your role as advisor to the Fire Lord into friend. Or something more. The details of your relationship with Zuko have not really been sorted out or discussed but either way, you knew your role right now was to be supportive yet honest.

“He was right, you know.”

Zuko let out a low grunt as his response before letting more fire blast from his fist.

“It’s not that the other advisors don’t want to help the village. It’s that we have to divide our resources and aid equally. If we send all our healers to the village, none will be left to take care of the returning troops or the colonies or the elderly in the capital city.”

There was no grunt this time but more flames spat from his fist as he punched it forward through the air.

“And it’s incredibly admirable to see you so compassionate about your people but it would be nice to get through one meeting this week without scorching the ceiling tiles.”

“So am I supposed to rule without a conscience?” he asked coldly without looking at you, the anger he was restraining palpable in his voice.

“No,” you replied levelly. “You heard what Ji said. Objectively does not necessarily mean without a conscience. Actually,” a bit of laughter bubbled up into your conversation. “He suggested you talk more with Katara. ‘Now that’s someone who can keep their emotions in check,’ he said.”

“Having been on the receiving end of her wrath, I beg to differ,” Zuko sighed and released his fists before joining you in the stands. “And I have talked to her. She just laughed at me. She said, ‘Now you know what it’s like not to be taken seriously because you’re too emotional.”

You shifted your body when he sat down beside you so that you could still face him. He did not face you, however, and continued to stare forward at the training grounds and into the night sky. “No one is telling you not to feel or have emotions, Zuko. Just that they shouldn’t control you so much, or cloud your judgment.”

“You sound like Uncle,” he groaned before flopping backwards onto his back. In moments like this, you really realized how young the Fire Lord was. He was still mature and doing his best with such a large responsibility, but despite being five years into his reign, that moody teenager still presented himself at times.

Leaning onto one arm so that you were closer to Zuko, you laughed softly, “I’m wondering if I should find that flattering.”

Zuko ignored your lightheartedness and continued. “People are always telling me, ‘don’t let your emotions control you.’ But why? Without them, I never could know you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyes remained fixed on him as you tried to sort out your confusion.

“Do you remember one of the first advisor meetings you were a part of?”

“The one where we were discussing having the Kyoshi Warriors acting as your bodyguards over well-trained firebenders much more familiar with the palace and the land? Absolutely. That was when we discovered your throne wasn’t fireproof.”

“Right. And I came here to blow off some steam and you followed me to say that you were on my side and would work on getting the other advisors to agree to letting the Kyoshi Warriors be my security.”

“I didn’t follow you...”

For the first time that evening, Zuko looked at you with a knowing and pointed grin. You rolled your eyes and urged him to continue making his point. “Anyways, go on.”

“If I hadn’t been feeling so angry, I wouldn’t have come here and you wouldn’t have followed me and we wouldn’t be... I don’t know... us.” He sat up and was so close now that your shoulders brushed against each other.

“It’s not just through anger that I’ve gotten to know you either,” he continued. “When I was anxious about a speech, you were the one who volunteered to work on it with me.”

“You made fun of the way I clapped and said people don’t clap that enthusiastically for common budget updates,” you drawled.

“When I was excited about Uncle coming back to visit, you helped to make sure everything was arranged to his liking.”

“You told me never to tell your uncle that my taste in tea may be superior to his,” you proudly added.

“And when I was sad that you had to leave on a trip to the Earth Kingdom, your letters made me smile because I thought at last someone who has worse handwriting than I do.”

“You take that back!” you gasped, pointing your finger menacingly at Zuko.

“My point is,” he grabbed your hand in his. “If I was cold and stoic as some of these advisors seem to want me to be, I wouldn’t have gotten to know you. So I’m not going to change the way I feel.”

You smiled softly, happy to see this side of Zuko. The nature of your relationship still felt undefined and you were sure the two of you would figure it out. Eventually. It was a discussion to be had, but one for another day, as this day was nearly over.

“That’s nice,” you playfully patted his hand. “But the next time you decide to feel something, maybe you could do so without destroying the ceiling. Or distracting me with your firebending while I’m trying to do my job.”

You stood up and began to walk away from the stands and out of the training grounds, leaving a smiling Zuko behind you.

“You’re the one who followed me!” he called out.

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #zuko x reader #zuko x you #prince zuko x you #prince zuko #zuko #fire lord zuko #fire lord zuko x reader #fire lord zuko x you #zuko fic

120 notes · View notes

ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

Text

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr | Also on AO3

Epilogue: Martin Prime

“…see it into a new era. Please join me in welcoming to the podium the Head of the Magnus Institute of London, Dr. Walter…Kos-ki-e-wicz.”

“Fifteen months and he still can’t pronounce it properly,” Jon whispered under the cover of the applause that followed the introduction.

“He’s better than he used to be,” Martin whispered back, squeezing Jon’s hand gently. “Go make nice.”

Jon lifted Martin’s fingers to his lips and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to the knuckles before pushing back from the long table and getting to his feet. Martin turned his head towards where the podium ought to be, thankful they’d been able to come in early and get the layout of the room so he didn’t look like a complete tit staring off into the wrong direction, as the clapping gradually tapered off into an expectant silence.

“Thank you, Mr. Campbell.” Jon popped the normally silent P with a dry, pointed humor Martin knew well. When the laughter had died down, he continued in the deep, rolling affectation he had begun adopting when he needed to act as the face of the Institute. “Friends, colleagues, distinguished guests. I stand before you tonight with the awesome and humbling privilege of thanking you all for coming to celebrate two hundred years of the Magnus Institute.”

Martin, who had listened to Jon practice this speech in the comfort of their living room at least twenty times in the last two weeks, let it fade into the background and settled back into his seat. Not being able to scan the assembled gathering was annoying, but while this might have been the largest event they had attended in the past year, it was by no means the first. He was used to having to fold his hands over his stomach, or the end of his cane, and imagine what everyone’s faces were doing.

A familiar whirring started up from the space Jon had vacated, and Martin smiled and laid his fingers on the tape recorder as it buzzed away. Somehow, it was comforting to know she was still listening, even now.

It hadn’t been easy getting to this point. Martin had never really actually expected killing Jonah Magnus to instantly make everything sunshine and roses again, but he definitely hadn’t expected the attempt to drain Jon so badly that he collapsed in his arms. Nor had he expected that it would take three days for him to open his eyes again. (Melanie had teased Jon a bit about “taking this whole Messiah Complex to extremes”, but even she’d been strained.) And the news from Great Yarmouth hadn’t helped matters. Martin was still kind of thankful that he hadn’t been able to see Sasha’s face when she got off the phone with Basira and reported what little she knew. Or the look on his counterpart’s face when he called and filled in the gaps thirty-six hours later. Martin had hoped they’d get out of the building before blowing it up, but at least they hadn’t gone into the Unknowing itself.

It had still been touch and go, though, and Tim was still adjusting to his new reality, but thankfully he had plenty of support. Martin could hear in their voices when they spoke that they were happy, in a way he was only just learning himself that he could be.

Jon made a surprisingly good Institute Head. It hadn’t necessarily been something he’d planned on, but when they got back from taking Charlie to see Present Jon and Present Martin—who refused to leave the hospital until Tim was awake and ready to come home himself—and Melanie informed him about the new temporary head, Jon had almost literally hit the roof and stormed the Institute himself. It had taken him two days to manage to get an audience with Peter Lukas, but in the end, he’d stood before him and informed him that he had a choice: Vacate his position and leave the Institute alone, or be destroyed utterly.

Peter Lukas, unsurprisingly, had chosen poorly.

For Jon to subsequently take control of the Institute had been Sasha’s idea, and her points—that Jon was bound to the Institute and would need a reason to stay close to it, that he was the only person who knew enough to keep it running and keep it safe, that anyone else would either make things worse or become corrupted by the Beholder—had been valid. She’d crafted an entire identity for both Jon and Martin and somehow managed to have Dr. Walter Koskiewicz declared Elias Bouchard’s sole heir. Publicly, that was who he was and who he remained, but on the day he’d assumed the position of Institute Head, he had called a meeting of all the department heads and bluntly, concisely, and completely told them the entire truth. He had left it up to each head whether or not to tell their staff everything—although he was emphatic that they be told about the Eye, at least to some extent—and had made it clear that anyone who wanted to quit would be more than welcome to do so, with full severance; he wouldn’t hold it against anyone who chose to leave. But, as he had told Martin that night when he got back from the Institute, he didn’t want anyone else feeling trapped, or to not know they were working for, essentially, a fear god. He’d been far more surprised than Martin when, out of eighty-seven employees, only three had chosen to leave and one had asked for their job back a week later.

Getting the rest of Elias’s estate had taken longer. Obviously there was no body, so what they technically had was a missing person. Surprisingly, it was Daisy who’d pushed that forward by manufacturing proof that he’d been killed in the explosion at Great Yarmouth, claiming she’d followed him there as part of her hunt for Gertrude Robinson’s murderer. When Tim, freshly back in the Archives, looked over the assortment of tapes that had previously been in the tunnels and unerringly plucked the one with Gertrude’s death on it, Daisy’s superiors decided that he was responsible for the House of Wax as well, closed both files, and declared him officially dead.

Jon told Martin that Jonah Magnus had terrible taste in interior decorating. Martin told him he would just have to take his word for it.

Martin tuned back into Jon’s speech as he caught the words that meant he was winding down. He’d been reluctant to agree to this event, especially given what today was, but it was expected, so he’d caved, with a few stipulations. The speech, unfortunately for Jon, was non-negotiable, but at least he was able to keep it fairly short.

“And so, as we move into our third century, I leave you with a few carefully chosen words,” Jon said. “To our Institute donors, I give these words: Thank you for your support of the Magnus Institute over the years, and I hope that you will continue to support us throughout the changes to come. To those who come to the Institute to study and learn, I give these words: Your work furthers ours as much as ours furthers yours, and we look forward to working with you and developing that relationship, now and well into the future. And to you, the Institute employees, those who make this Institute what it is, I give these words…” He paused for a moment, letting the suspense build, and Martin licked the corner of his mouth to hide his smirk. It was obvious from Jon’s voice, though, that he wasn’t bothering to hide his own. “Three-day weekend. See you all on Monday.”

The cheers, applause, and laughter nearly drowned out Jon’s “Thank you”, and Martin let his grin escape as he joined in the applause. He heard the rustling of fabric and guessed what was happening a split-second before Wade’s tap to his elbow told him for sure they were giving Jon a standing ovation.

It went on for nearly a minute solid before it started to die down, and as Martin slowly sank back into his seat, he felt Jon’s gloved fingers tangle in his.

“Almost done,” Martin murmured, knowing Jon was close to his breaking point but would never admit it.

There were a few closing remarks, and then footsteps came over to them. “All right, if you’ll just stand over this way and greet a few people…”

“No more than half an hour. I mean it, Harrison,” Jon warned.

“I know, Mr.—I mean Dr.—uh, sir,” Harrison stammered. “I promise.”

“Mister Doctor Sir?” Martin teased Jon as Harrison walked away. “Sounds like something you’d name a character in Spire.”

“That’s Mister Doctor Director Sir to you.”

They shared a laugh before Martin took a half-step back, cane folded up in one hand and his other resting discreetly against the small of Jon’s back. Jon took a deep breath and straightened himself up, but didn’t move away from the point of contact. They’d learned their lesson one of the first times Jon had had to do an official event. Martin did some of the bookkeeping and budgeting for the Institute—God knew he’d picked up enough being Peter Lukas’s assistant, and Jon knew bugger all about the business side of things—but for the most part, he wasn’t an employee and certainly wasn’t who the more important guests at these events wanted to talk to, so he’d stepped back and stayed quietly in the background. Unfortunately, the Lukases were still Institute donors, and even if they avoided Jon beyond the bare minimum that politeness dictated, the presence of even one was still enough for Martin to slip back into old habits. Thank God the bond Annabelle had put on them was still extant and he’d been able to pull himself back, but it had still been a scary few minutes for both of them.

Most of the donors who spoke to Jon—briefly, Harrison was being as good as his word about limiting the official greetings—either ignored Martin or only acknowledged him with a silent nod, which amounted to the same thing. For the most part, Martin didn’t mind, but he could tell it was getting to Jon long before the fifteen-minute mark.

“Last one, sir, I promise,” Harrison whispered at last.

“Harrison, I have told you about the ‘sir’ thing,” Jon muttered. Martin hastily turned his laugh into a cough.

“Dr. Koskiewicz, so good to see you again.” Martin couldn’t place the speaker’s voice except that it was posh, which meant it was an Institute donor, and loud. Probably belonged to a large man, almost certainly an older one.

“It’s an honor to have you here, Sir Henry,” Jon replied, his voice slightly strained. Martin guessed that the man had a very firm handshake; an ordinary hand would be swollen and sore after half an hour of shaking, but the scarring on Jon’s made it far worse. “And you as well, Lady Vane-Tempest.”

“Lovely party, darling, so kind of you to invite us,” Lady Vane-Tempest said. Her voice, at least, Martin couldn’t forget—well-bred, but harsh and grating at the same time. He’d met the Vane-Tempests at the Christmas “party” he’d been forced to run on behalf of Peter Lukas and had not enjoyed the experience. “Congratulations on two hundred years. Obviously you haven’t been here the whole time, of course!” She trilled with laughter.

Martin felt Jon stiffen, and then he said with forced politeness, “Thank whatever gods you believe in that I haven’t, madam.”

“Looking forward to touring the building,” Sir Henry said. “Understand you’ve got some new interesting new acquisitions in your Artifact Storage. Love to see them.”

“We’re not doing tours this evening, I’m afraid,” Jon said. “That was the end of the gala, but it’s good of you to come. If you’ll get in touch with Ms. Zampano, I’m sure we can arrange a suitable time for you to see the building.”

“Oh, come now, darling, surely you can spare some time now,” Lady Vane-Tempest coaxed. If Martin was any judge, she’d been imbibing freely of the champagne, enough to get at least slightly tipsy. “We’re so looking forward to it.”

“I do apologize, but I have another commitment this evening.” Martin was a bit startled when Jon’s arm slid around his waist, but he willingly shifted his own position to return the gesture. The smile in Jon’s voice was obvious; he’d never been very good at hiding his pride and delight in anything to do with their relationship. “It’s our first wedding anniversary, you see.”

The Vane-Tempests mumbled polite congratulations, wished Jon a good night, and moved away. Jon let out a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his toes and sagged against Martin. “Thank God that’s over with.”

“That’s the last one,” Harrison promised. “I’ll just go say a few words to the press. Have a good weekend and—um—happy anniversary?”

“Thank you,” Jon and Martin said in unison. Martin unfolded his cane, and they walked out of the Institute the same way they had since escaping Peter Lukas in their own time—arm in arm.

Ninety minutes later and Martin, wearing his most comfortable sweater and a soft, threadbare pair of jeans, walked into the room they had designated as the “living room” with two mugs of tea and set them on the heavy, solid coffee table. “How’s the hand?”

“Still a bit sore, but I’ll recover.” Jon’s voice sounded slightly muffled. Martin wasn’t sure why until he heard the soft crackle of burning wood, and then Jon was right next to him and pulling him down for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Martin murmured, brushing his nose against Jon’s. As he pulled back, he added, “By the way, there was a message from the agency. They’re coming by for another assessment tomorrow, around noon.”

“Good thing I gave everyone the day off, then. Did she say anything about how the application is looking?”

“I don’t know that they’d tell us that on a message. We can ask when she gets here.”

The doorbell rang with the deep, sonorous tones Martin still privately felt belonged in a Gothic soap opera, and Jon sighed and slid out of Martin’s arms. “Bets on who got here first?”

“Not against you,” Martin informed him. Jon’s snickers followed him out of the room.

After more than a year of living in the house, Martin knew his way around by heart, especially after they redid the flooring so that he could tell by the texture beneath his feet which way he was heading. He made it to the front door without bumping into anything, made sure the chain was still secure, and pulled the door open to the length of the chain. “Who goes there?”

“Just the usual suspects,” Tim’s voice said. “We even found a Sasha rattling around in the gutters.”

“Shut up, Tim,” Sasha said, a bit grouchily.

Martin chuckled and closed the door enough that he could undo the chain, then pulled the door open. “Come on in. There’s a fire going.”

Each one of them gave him a hug as they came in, prefaced by a greeting so he’d know who he was hugging. He was pleasantly surprised when, after a fierce hug from Melanie, he heard a higher voice say, “It’s Georgie. Will you accept one from me?”

“Oh, sure, of course.” Martin hadn’t worried about any of Jon’s exes, or anyone who might possibly catch his interest and remind him that he could do better, since—well, actually, since they’d been reunited after traveling back in time, but the weight of the ring on his left hand and the memory of the tremble in Jon’s voice as he’d promised ‘til death comes for us both had finally quieted the last of his doubts. And Georgie did give good hugs. “Glad you could make it, Georgie. Anyone else?”

“No, Basira pulled a night shift tonight, I think. Here, let me get that.” Georgie—or someone, anyway—pulled the heavy door shut and slid the chain into place. “Hope we’re not too early.”

Martin shook his head. “You’re fine. Not like we’re doing anything particularly exciting.”

It took a few minutes of arranging, playful debates, and mostly-joking grumblings about getting those disgusting socks away from the food, Timothy Stoker, but soon everyone was settled down with something to drink and a baked good from the basket the others had brought with them. Jon sighed with obvious pleasure and curled up against Martin’s side; Martin wrapped an arm around him and held him close.

“Where’s Charlie tonight?” he asked.

“Late rehearsal, and Sasha’s uncle offered to pick him up and watch him after,” Present Jon answered. “We’d have brought him along, but he’s got a maths exam tomorrow and I know he’s not ready for it.”

Tim laughed. “Come on, Jon, cut him some slack. He’s doing much better this term than he did in the spring.”

“To be fair,” Melanie pointed out, “there was kind of a lot going on in the spring.”

There was a hum of agreement before Georgie added, “From everything you lot told me, I didn’t expect that grandmother of his to fight you so hard on custody.”

Present Martin sighed heavily. “I did. I mean, the last thing she wanted was for people to think she was a terrible guardian, you know? Even if Children’s Services didn’t get involved and take him away, the very fact that someone else dared ask to take him—and the fact that Charlie wanted to go…”

“And the fact that you kept insisting on referring to him as him, despite the fact that she has consistently and for his entire life refused to accept that he’s a boy,” Sasha put in. “She’s a poisonous old witch and he’s lucky to be shed of her. But yeah, between that and the fact that he got anxious and panicky and afraid to let any of you out of his sight—you know, at the beginning of April—it’s no wonder he came close to failing the spring term.”

There was a short pause before Present Martin asked carefully, “Did he tell you that, or…?”

“Oh, goddammit,” Sasha sighed. “He didn’t say anything to any of you about that, did he?”

“No, but we should have noticed,” Present Jon said quietly.

Melanie snorted. “I’m not sure how you would have, considering how clingy the three of you were being.”

Martin tightened his arms around Jon as the Archives crew began bickering, mostly lightheartedly but with an undercurrent of seriousness. During their first time experiencing…well, everything they had experienced…he and Jon had never really had a chance to stop and consider anniversaries. The one-year anniversary of Jane Prentiss attacking the Institute had fallen while they were trying to get ready for the Unknowing; the one-year anniversary of that had been while Martin was still having to avoid Jon, but he remembered staring at his reflection in the mirror and wondering if he would be better off calling out of work or if he should go in and lurk in the shadows of the Archives to reassure himself that Jon was actually still there. Passing the anniversaries—or, for that matter, the dates themselves—in a timeline where they didn’t technically happen hadn’t made things significantly better, so he could definitely understand why the present crew had been reluctant to be far from each other a year after so nearly losing one another, and more particularly nearly losing Tim.

Jon sank against him, also clinging tightly, and let the banter go on for a bit before he broke in. “Have you told Charlie about the trip?”

“We’re going to surprise him after school tomorrow,” Tim said, and Martin was pretty sure he could hear the relief in it. “Hope he likes the plan. He’s been asking to come with us the next time we go out of town since Jon got back from Jonah’s little hell-quest, and I don’t think he’s ever been out of London.”

“Well…you weren’t conscious at the time, but they did bring him to visit while you were…” Present Jon’s voice trailed off.

Martin was about to say something when something solid and heavy hit his leg on four tiny pressure points and screamed. Only six months of practice enabled him not to jump completely out of his skin. “Hello, Duchess.”

“Oh, damn, I didn’t feed them before the gala.” Jon carefully disentangled himself from Martin and removed the solid iron weight masquerading as a ball of fur from his lap. “Come along, Your Grace. What have you done with your sister?”

Martin couldn’t help the soft smile that touched his lips as he stared off in the direction Jon had gone. Hearing him talk to the cats in that tone of voice always did something funny to his insides.

The smirk in Melanie’s voice was obvious. “I genuinely can’t decide which one of you is going to be the bigger pushover when you get approved to adopt.”

“Have you heard anything yet?” Present Martin asked.

“There’s another visit scheduled tomorrow. We’re almost four months into this part of the process. I’m hoping we’ll have an answer soon.” Martin picked up his mug of tea and took a sip. It had started to cool a bit, but it was still drinkable. “Not that we’re in a hurry or anything, but it’d be nice to know, you know?”

“I could probably poke at your social worker’s mind and see if they have an answer,” Sasha offered. “It’d be easy.”

“Sasha, we’ve talked about this,” Present Jon said with an audible frown.

“Yeah, if I can manage to keep myself under control…” Tim trailed off. “Sorry, Georgie. I know you’d rather we didn’t talk about it.”

“It’s fine,” Georgie said with a sigh. “I’m getting used to it. It’s not like any of you can just…stop being what you are. Did—um—did your Georgie have a problem with it?”

It was the first time she’d asked about her past self since being introduced to Jon and Martin over a year ago, and Martin couldn’t explain why it felt so weird. “She did. At first, anyway. But I think it was less the whole…supernatural fear thing and more the fact that we—and particularly Jon—kept acting like nothing was wrong.”

“Yeah. At least you lot admit this is messed up.”

“Not so much the admitting it’s messed up as trying from the get-go not to play into it,” Jon’s voice said from the direction of the kitchen. The loveseat bounced slightly—very slightly—as he sat down, leaned into Martin’s side, and kissed his cheek. “Your cat is a menace.”

“Why is she only my cat when she’s misbehaving?” Martin teased, turning his head to capture Jon’s lips with his own before they moved away. “What’s Cosmic done now?”

“Just the fact that you know it was Cosmic Creepers—”

“The Duchess has made it very clear that she’s your cat.”

Sasha gave a mock-groan. “You two as actual parents are going to be insufferable.”

Melanie’s snort was practically elephantine. “Like you don’t have the three of these with Charlie as evidence for that.”

Martin sensed the remark calculated to cause maximum chaos coming before Tim opened his mouth, but there was nothing he could do to head him off. “So, Melanie, when are you and Georgie going to add a bundle of joy to your family?”

The resultant storm of profanity and invective directed at Tim sent Jon into paroxysms of laughter, and from the sound of it, Present Jon as well. Martin could imagine Tim’s triumphant, shit-eating grin. Even Sasha was giggling.

“Seriously. I don’t even want more than one cat,” Georgie finally said when the chaos wound down. “Children have never been in my plans. Not even remotely.”

“Have you ever thought about fostering?” Present Martin asked. “Teens, maybe? I bet you’d be good at it.”

A short silence followed the question, and when Melanie answered, there was a note of surprise in her voice. “Maybe. Not right now, though.”

“I guess my question is—and please, none of you take this the wrong way—why would you want to involve a child in the…life you’re all leading?” Georgie asked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“No more than being a child is dangerous anyway,” Jon said. “Most of the fears don’t…a child’s fear isn’t fully formed, so it’s not as satisfying, but that doesn’t mean they don’t pay attention. I was marked young. So was Annabelle Cane. Callum Brodie was on the Dark’s radar long before Rayner chose him as a vessel. A-apparently the End was paying attention to all of us before my father died. A child being taken care of by someone who knows what’s out there, and isn’t…enamored with it, I suppose, stands a better chance than a child wholly unprepared.”

Martin rubbed Jon’s arm. “Besides. The more connections you have outside the Archives, the harder it is for the Fears to…use you. I guess. Even besides the Lonely, the more isolated you are, the easier you are to hurt.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Present Jon said, sounding like he was talking half to himself. “But it does make sense why Jonah tried so hard to pit us against one another. A person with no support is far more vulnerable. Far easier to use and manipulate.”

“And that’s what beat him in the end,” Melanie said. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Hear, hear.” Martin raised his mug in salute. Someone clinked a mug or glass against it, and the conversation drifted to other, less volatile topics.

They’d done this a lot over the last year. Ever since Jon, or his alter ego, had officially inherited the estate, they spent more evenings and weekends here than they did in Tim, Present Martin, and Present Jon’s house. First there’d been the intense repainting and redecorating period, during which Martin had offered deadpan commentary on color choices until Jon threatened to paint his mouth shut and Tim had unearthed more than a few artifacts belonging to other entities in various nooks and crannies. Once they were settled in, there had been pizza and pasta-making parties, movie marathons, drinks after hard weeks, and game nights. They’d come over to wrestle the garden into submission in the spring, helped decorate the house for Christmas, and watched fireworks on New Year’s from the widow’s walk on the roof. Jon had even organized an Easter Egg hunt for the neighborhood children, which had been when Martin had finally broached the idea of reaching out to the local authority about beginning the adoption process.

And exactly one year ago tonight, they had stood in the drawing room they never otherwise used and finally, finally made the bond between them a legal one.

“I can’t believe you two are spending your anniversary like this,” Sasha said, and if Martin didn’t know for a fact that she couldn’t read his mind beyond finding a back door into his dreams when Jon’s lay alongside her, he’d have told her off for it. “You’re such hopeless romantics, I expected you to go out for a candlelit dinner somewhere. Moonlit stroll in the park. Kissing under the stars.”

“It’s Thursday,” Martin reminded her.

“We’re going to Scotland for the weekend,” Jon said. “That’s part of the reason I gave everyone a three-day weekend, so we could get an early start and make the most of it.”

“I accuse you of abusing your position for your own gain,” Georgie said, but she was laughing as she did so.

“I’ll confess to that,” Jon replied immediately. Martin couldn’t help but laugh. “But seriously, we—it’s going to be a nice, relaxing weekend, but we thought spending the evening with our family would be a good start.”

Something thumped down on the coffee table. Martin guessed it was Melanie’s glass. “You know what I can’t believe? That you picked the eighteenth of October to get married. I mean, you know literally everything in the world, and certainly everything about the Institute. You had to know that was the day the Institute was founded. And then you had to spend your first anniversary making nice with the donors. Why would you do that?”

Martin looked in Jon’s direction. “You want to tell them, or shall I?”

Jon sighed heavily and dropped his head to Martin’s shoulder. “You go ahead. I’d rather not say it out loud.”

“Uh-oh.” Tim sounded worried. “This is…what happened on the eighteenth of October, 2017 in your timeline?”

“Bugger all,” Martin replied. “It was today. In our original timeline, this was when Jonah slipped his ritual into a statement and fed it to Jon against his will. Eighteenth October, 2018.” He ran his hand through Jon’s hair, which had fallen out of its braid. “We didn’t want to wait until this year to get married, but we’d already agreed that we wanted it to be the eighteenth. We wanted to take back the day Jonah Magnus tried to ruin and make it ours.”

“To replace the memories,” Present Martin said softly.

“Exactly. He’s taken too damn much from us already. We’re not letting him have everything.” Martin pressed a kiss to the top of Jon’s head.

“So where in Scotland are you going?” Present Jon asked.

“John O’Groats. It’s—Daisy used to have a safehouse up there,” Jon explained. “Well, she still has the house, but she’s just renting it out to vacationers these days. She told us we could use it for free a couple times a year as a thank-you for helping her get the Hunt under control.”

“Yeah, Basira says she’s a lot more relaxed than she was when she was a cop,” Sasha said. “If you can believe it. Is that where you two stayed…um, up until the eighteenth of October?”

“Yep.” Martin popped the P in a method that, he hoped, would indicate the subject is closed and you should not push further, Sasha James.

Thankfully, it seemed to work. Georgie was the next to speak up. “What about you three? Do you have plans for your trip to America or is it just more of a ramble?”

“We were planning to visit Boston,” Present Martin answered. “Lots of history, lots of walking trails, lots of potentially haunted stuff. But…well, Jon changed things around a couple weeks ago and he’s been vague about what we’re doing now.”

“Oh.” Present Jon sounded both embarrassed and excited. “I—ah—I’m sorry, I got so…I completely forgot I hadn’t told you. I managed to track down my cousin. You know, the one I stayed with for a bit before starting uni? He moved to a new town about the time I started at the Institute, actually. Apparently he’s married now. His husband sounds…um, interesting. And he wants to meet you two—and Charlie, too. I actually managed to get us tickets out there. I—I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind getting the chance to meet a relative that not only doesn’t hate you, but doesn’t care you’re in a relationship with two other men and is excited about the idea of meeting us? Of course we do, it sounds horrific, why would you do something like that,” Tim said flatly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jon, we’d love to meet your cousin.”

“It’ll be fun,” Present Martin agreed. “Did you ever…I mean, have you met him?”

It took Martin a second to realize the question was directed at him. “Honestly, until you all started talking about him, I didn’t even know Jon had a cousin.”

“I’d love to see him again,” Jon said, a bit wistfully. “I do miss him. I suppose asking you to pass on my best wishes would be a little much, but…”

“I’m going to tell him,” Present Jon said softly. “About all of this. I think he deserves to know, and…I think he can handle it.”

“Well. Give me a call if you get the chance. I’d love to talk to him.”

“Of course.” Present Jon hesitated. “I—um, I think he might have a couple…statements. Something about the way he said ‘scientifically interesting’ when talking about the town. I’m going to tell him about…this, and us, and what we can do. Let him decide if he wants to share.”

Jon made a slightly pained noise, but Martin rubbed his arm soothingly and said, “You’ll probably need something. At least Tim will. That’s—you’ll be too far from the Institute for too long not to take a statement or two. Better if it’s someone willing, wouldn��t you say?”

Tim took a deep breath. “Does it ever get any easier? Needing to—sensing in your case, or seeing in mine, that someone has a statement, and needing it so badly?”

“Not really,” Jon admitted. “It’s why I don’t go out alone so often. The trouble is that sometimes it helps them and sometimes it…doesn’t, and you can never tell before they tell their stories whether it will or not. The Eye likes it better when it’s…forced, but the Eye can honestly get stuffed. We’re doing this on our terms.”

“Hell yeah,” Tim said with a laugh. Jon leaned forward at Martin’s side, and from the sounds, he guessed they were bumping their fists together.

They spent about another hour together, talking and laughing and generally relaxing. Finally, though, Present Martin asked, “How early were you two planning to head out?”

“Not until early afternoon. The social worker is coming, remember?” Martin shrugged. “But if you lot want to get going…”

“Yes, we—we should probably make sure Charlie’s in bed, and I’m sure Wade is ready to be released,” Present Jon said. There were a number of rustles and creaks as everyone got to their feet, and Martin stood, too, stretching out his spine. “Call us when you get there.”

“We will. Let us know when you get to America,” Jon replied.

“Are you taking the cats, or do you want us to stop by and look after them?” Melanie asked.

Martin paused and looked in Jon’s direction. He could practically feel his thoughts flowing between them, running through the bond Annabelle had put on them like a telegraph wire. “Well, we were going to take them, but…actually, would you mind?”

“Of course not. We’d be delighted,” Georgie said.

Jon squeezed Martin’s waist, then slid away. “Come here, then, let me show you where we keep the food.”

Martin saw the others to the door and handed out another round of hugs. Jon arrived with Georgie just before they pulled away, so was at least able to wave, and he hugged both Georgie and Melanie and thanked them again. And then it was just the two of them, alone in their house, and together.

Jon shut and latched the door, then took Martin’s hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. Close your eyes and follow me.”

Martin smiled more broadly, but he did as Jon asked. Jon led him through the house and up three flights of stairs. It somehow didn’t surprise Martin when Jon pushed open a final door and he heard the soft sounds of an autumn evening.

“Stargazing?” he teased.

“It is a good night for it,” Jon said, not rising to the bait. “But no, not what I had in mind.” He tugged Martin forward a few feet, then added, “You can open your eyes now.”

Martin didn’t point out that it wouldn’t do any good; he simply opened his eyes. He could smell roses and peonies, he thought—the same flowers they’d decorated the drawing room with for their wedding. There was a soft click, and a tape recorder began playing—which made him smile—and then Jon was there and holding his hands. “Can I have this dance?”

Martin’s smile broadened as he recognized the song. “For the rest of your life.”

Martin let Jon lead him, singing quietly along with the music as he did so. He was still barefoot and it was a bit cold on the widow’s walk for that, but he didn’t care. It was the song they’d chosen as their first dance at their wedding, something of a fast waltz, but the lyrics had struck both of them as being so very them. As soon as Martin realized that, he also realized that this was probably the tape Tim had made for them to play at their wedding. It had been their way of ensuring that Annabelle, if she was still listening, would be able to be a part of things, too.

They still made a point of shooing out spiders and cleaning out cobwebs, but the tapes? Those could stay.

When the first song was over, rather than let Jon go, Martin simply shifted his grip and took the lead for the second song on the tape—the first song they had ever danced to, in Tim and Present Martin and Present Jon’s kitchen the night they’d moved in. He pulled Jon closer, letting their foreheads touch, and sang along to that one as well. He could feel Jon shiver in his arms and knew, knew, it wasn’t the cold that was doing it.

They slowed to a stop just before the song ended. Jon slid his arms around Martin’s neck and simply held him; Martin wrapped his around Jon’s waist and pulled him even closer until their bodies were flush, until they were practically fused into a single person.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you, too,” Jon whispered back. “Happy anniversary, Martin.”

“Happy anniversary.” Martin leaned forward and kissed him thoroughly.

Jon kissed him back, deeply and intensely and with all the emotions they had built up between them over the years: loneliness and desperation and fear, love and tenderness and hope. They had fought their damnedest for a moment they thought would never come, and now that it had, Martin was going to savor it. This and every other moment that ever could be.

At last, the need for air forced them to separate, and Jon laughed quietly. “You know what I didn’t think through about this?”

“We’re still barefoot?” Martin guessed.

“We are still barefoot,” Jon agreed. “And I’m still rather…worn out from the day. What do you say we go inside, shut the cats in their room for the night, and make use of that oversized tub in the downstairs bath?”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” Martin said. He kissed Jon again, very softly, and then stepped back. “Lead on, Mr. Blackwood-Sims.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Blackwood-Sims,” Jon drawled. He stopped the tape with a gentle click, then laced his fingers through Martin’s, the metal of his wedding band smooth and cool against his fingers as it rolled over the webbing between them. “Come on, my love.”

Hand-in-hand, Martin and Jon, the man he’d loved for years, the man he’d fought for, fought with, the reason he had survived apocalypse after apocalypse, his anchor—his husband—turned away from the world they had somehow managed to save and into their home, into the future they had made.

Together.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #jonmartim #I am glad to be with you here at the end of all things #god I can't believe this is OVER

17 notes · View notes

spicycreativity · 3 years

Text

Ticket Crimes - Oneshot

Rating: T Words: 9,752 Characters: All Category: Gen Summary: To welcome his new crew members about the USS Foley, Starfleet Captain Janus Gaines schedules shore leave on the pleasure planet of Ya'Lotus. Janus and Virgil run into an old acquaintance who seems to have ulterior motives; Roman and Remus attempt to infiltrate a drug trafficking ring; Patton and Logan narrowly avoid death on a history tour. Content Warnings: Mild violence/violent intent, alcohol use/mild intoxication, guns and phasers (no shots fired), mentions of drugs and drug trafficking (no drug use depicted) Note: You do not need to be familiar with Star trek to read this. In fact, it's probably better that you're not, because I took a LOT of liberties with canon

Doctor Patton Kelsey's boot heels clicked along the metal floor of the USS Foley as he made his way out of Sickbay. Despite the corridors' unusual emptiness, he kept to the right side out of habit, dragging his fingers along the wall as he went. He counted the doors, mouthing the numbers to help him keep track, until he came across the door he was looking for.

There was nothing usual about Ensign Virgil Salem's door except for the fact that it rarely ever opened. Virgil emerged for his shifts and for scheduled meals and made himself scarce the rest of the time.

Patton had studied Virgil's chart extensively but found no psychological defect that would render him unfit to serve in Starfleet. Surmising that Virgil was shy, Patton privately declared himself responsible for looking after the young recruit. The fact that they had joined the crew at the same time only served to strengthen this notion.

Patton raised his fist and knocked gently on the door, knowing full well that Virgil was inside. "Ensign Salem?" No response. "Virgil? Kiddo? Our group is about ready to beam down."

"Do I really have to go to that?" Virgil asked, his voice muffled behind the door.

"You don't want to?" Patton asked. "It's a party for us!"

"I would have been fine with a bottle of Saurian brandy, but nobody bothered to ask for my opinion, did they?"

Patton smiled a little and leaned against the doorframe. "Look, kiddo, you'd better just come with me before Captain Gaines calls you over the intercom."

"Shore leave is supposed to be optional," Virgil shot back, but Patton could tell that his resolve was slipping away. Virgil took a while to warm up to things, but he could usually be convinced.

"Not when the whole reason we're here is to celebrate you!"

"And you," Virgil said, and he was much closer to the door now.

Patton stepped back and waited for the door to slide open. It did a moment later, and Virgil appeared still tugging on his gold tunic over the standard issue black undershirt. His dark brown hair, slightly longer than regulation permitted, stuck up in the back where he had been resting his head against his pillows. Patton absentmindedly smoothed it down, though he managed not to lick his hand to do so.

Virgil let him lead him down the hall toward the Transporter Room. "You know I'm not actually your kid, right?"

"But we look so much alike!" Patton smiled sunnily at him. Patton was sturdy and soft where Virgil was rail-thin, and his honey blonde hair and blue eyes contrasted with Virgil's own dark hair and darker eyes.

"Sure, pops." Virgil shook his head, but there was a fondness to it. "I look like your shadow."

He stuttered his steps as they approached the Transporter Room so Patton would enter before him. Virgil respected Captain Janus Gaines, but he was also keenly aware of their difference in rank whenever they shared space. While Captain Gaines played fast and loose with regulations and encouraged his crew to do the same, Virgil never forgot what those regulations were. They had been drilled into his head at the Academy and haunted him like a ghost no matter how casually the Captain treated him.

"Took you long enough," Janus drawled. "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost."

"That was one time," Virgil said before he could stop himself. Not that it mattered; Janus had only ever been amused by Virgil's backtalk.

The rest of the party to beam down were milling about like guests at a mixer, largely ignoring Virgil and Patton. Janus stood out among them not only for his nonchalance, but for his unusual appearance. He made no secret of rejecting his half-Vulcan heritage and regularly spirited away Lieutenant Commander Remus Aime to help him bleach his hair and eyebrows. This resulted in unhealthy-looking white-blond hair and stark black roots. To make up for this transgression, he kept his hair at an acceptable regulation length, one that revealed his mismatched ears. The left was pointed exactly as a Vulcan's ears would be, but the right was rounded like a human's. Contributing to the asymmetry were his mismatched eyes: the left was a piercing blue while the right was warm and brown.

"We're ready now!" Patton said. He often focused on the bridge of the Captain's nose to avoid staring openly at him, and he did so now with a sunny but vacant smile gracing his lips.

"Places, everyone," Janus said, cutting off the murmured conversation between the remaining party members.

They all stepped onto the platforms, Virgil with his stomach turning with nerves, Patton staring dead ahead, still smiling.

It was over in a blink.

Janus stepped forward, turning around so he could address his party. "Gentlemen," he said, raising his arms for maximum melodrama, "welcome to Ya'Lotus."

"Uh, yeah, so what is this place?" Virgil asked, stepping off his platform.

He was interrupted by Lieutenant Roman Aime, who had made no secret of his disregard for Virgil since day one. "Weren't you paying attention the first two times we explained it to you?"

Janus rolled his eyes, annoyed at having lost control of the conversation, but made no attempt to regain it. "Logan?"

The android nodded at him, stepping forward and edging Roman out of Virgil's space. "Lotus Island, located on the planet of Ya'Lotus, is a popular shore leave destination due to its vast array of amenities and unique ticket-based economy."

Virgil, who had not been paying attention in the slightest the first two times this was explained to him, frowned. "Ticket-based?"

"Like Earth money," Remus Aime interjected.

"Yeah, yeah," said Roman.

"Ooh, like the county fair!" Patton said.

Virgil wheeled around to face him. "Is that an Earth thing? I'm from Alpha Proxima II."

"Well," said Janus, regaining everyone's attention by clapping his hands once. "Thank you, Ensign Salem, for that fascinating little jaunt into your personal history. But seeing as we're here to have fun, why don't you just stick close to me until you figure everything out, hm?"

"Yes, sir," Virgil said, squinting at Janus. He, like many others, was never sure where he stood with the half-Vulcan, and was unsure what to make of him because of it.

"Joy," said Janus. Addressing the rest of the landing party, he said, "Virgil and I are off to the Tier III Lounge. Is anyone else coming?"

"Logan said he wanted to do the self-guided history tour," said Patton, nudging the android in the ribs.

Logan nodded, causing his ash blond hair to dance along the line of his jaw. His gray eyes differed from organic beings' only in that they reflected no light, and he turned this unsettling gaze upon Patton, who tried not to flinch. "That is correct."

"An island full of debauchery and you're going on a history tour?" Remus demanded, grabbing a fistful of Patton's shirt. Despite the height disparity (Patton being the tallest member of the party and Remus being the shortest), Patton bit his lip and leaned back as much as the young Romulan's grip allowed. With his extravagant face tattoos and devilish bearing, Lieutenant Commander Remus Aime was no stranger to getting his way through intimidation tactics.

"You get free salt water taffy," Patton said, glancing around to see who might assist him.

It was Remus' twin brother who came to his aid, yanking Remus back by the hair. "Knock it off."

"I am your superior officer!" Remus said, releasing Patton and turning to face his brother.

"Oh, I do apologize, Lieutenant Commander Hair Dye," Roman said. To Janus, who was toying with his bleached locks with an exaggerated carefree expression, Roman said, "We'll go with you."

"No way!" Remus said, freeing dark hair from his brother's grasp. "I don't want to go to some stuffy lounge."

"We'll find our own fun on the way," Roman said.

"Again with the melodrama." Janus sighed and looked over at Virgil, who was slouching with his hands jammed in his pockets. "Follow me. If we lose them, we lose them."

Janus turned on his heel, an impressive feat given he was supplementing his already substantial height with three-inch heels, and left the receiving Transporter Room with Virgil in tow. Always loath to be left out, Roman followed suit, trailing Remus, Patton, and Logan behind him.

The first stop was a massive receiving terminal where they were all made to spin a wheel to receive their first round of tickets.

"How, exactly, does this work?" Virgil asked, folding his tickets into a small stack.

"If you really cared to know, you should have paid attention the first two times Logan explained it to you," Janus said, stuffing his own tickets up his sleeve like an Earth magician. "You're more than welcome to join him and Doctor Kelsey on the history tour if you think that would be a better way to spend your time than a high-end liquor tasting."

"You know," Virgil said, "I think I'll stick with you."

"That's what I thought."

A fair distance behind them trailed the Romulan twins Vrih and Vaebri i-Elehu tr'Aime, better known but their preferred names. Given that they hailed from a particularly superstitious region of the planet Romulus, the twins had dubbed themselves "Roman" and "Remus'' respectively to avoid the bad luck of giving away their full names.

"Captain Quick Step is trying to ditch us," complained Remus, his boot heels clicking against the concrete. Patton and Logan had already peeled off, leaving the brothers to tag along after Janus and Virgil on their own.

"Don't let him," Roman urged, nudging Remus to hurry up.

Lotus Island was a hectic place, bustling with all races of aliens. Music rang out loud over strategically-placed speakers and workers called out for the crowd to try their luck at a variety of carnival games from multiple cultures. Sequestered away in gravity-defying skyscrapers were gambling halls, and further inland towered the tracks of massive roller coasters.

Remus dodged an inebriated Orion and nearly tripped, grabbing onto Roman's tunic to stay upright. "He's dodging and weaving, that bastard!"

"You shouldn't have worn heels," Roman chided, grabbing Remus by the wrist and yanking him forward.

"You're wearing heels, too."

"But I can actually walk in them."

Far ahead of them and gaining ground, Janus was employing Earth-based power walking techniques. Virgil stuck close behind him at a jog, toying with his tickets, privately amazed at the unfamiliar sensation of actual paper between his fingers.

Virgil, despite his rigorous Academy training, was somewhat out of breath. Janus was not, and even if he was, would not have allowed Virgil to see him gasping for breath. He had determined long ago to take the best of his Vulcan heritage and the best of his human heritage, suppressing his weak points far beneath the surface where no one could ever see them. Despite his fondness for Remus, Janus Gaines was simply not a man who allowed himself emotional attachments and weaknesses, and this had very little to do with his early childhood training on Vulcan.

"Any particular reason you're running me like a racehorse?" Virgil asked.

"Like you've ever seen a racehorse," Janus replied.

"Okay, don't answer the question."

Despite their rapid pace, Janus managed to turn and leer at Virgil, micro-expressing as only a Vulcan could. "Because it's funny."

Virgil didn't see what was so funny about ditching crewmates, but (wisely) kept that to himself. "Why don't we catch a lift, then?" He gestured to one of the many ride services available, surreys and bicycles, rickshaws and moving sidewalks.

"We're almost there," Janus said, motioning to a blue-black building ahead of them. The rounded windows were blacked out, leaving Virgil to wonder at what was inside.

It was a regular lounge, as he soon found out, quiet and upscale. The interior was dark and just a touch too cool for Virgil and Janus' liking. Virgil crossed his arms as he followed Janus to the bar, but was soon distracted by a familiar hissing and clicking from the corner. "Is that a pinball machine?"

Janus looked at him like he'd just said something phenomenally stupid, mostly to hide the fact that he had only a vague idea of what a pinball machine was. "You can worry about that or you can let me buy you a drink."

"Fine," said Virgil, who had yet to master the subtle and esoteric art of decoding Janus' communication style. He clambered onto a barstool and picked at the piping on his sleeves that denoted his rank while Janus ordered something that the universal translator couldn't translate into English.

The sensation of eyes on him made Virgil shudder. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and glanced down the bar only to make eye contact with a pair of green eyes. They belonged to a Vulcan Virgil had never seen before. Unsure of what to do, Virgil froze, leaving the Vulcan to break the eye contact. He looked Janus up and down, then up again, his gaze lingering on his bleached hair.

"Dude," said Virgil, once he had recovered from the off-putting sensation of having been cased and rejected, "I think that guy likes you."

Janus leaned forward and peered down the bar before pulling back in an attempt to hide behind Virgil. "Shit."

Then came the voice, bassy, yet undeniably Vulcan in its even monotone. "Chu'lak? I thought that was you."

"Fuck," said Janus, already smiling, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He slipped off the barstool and landed cleanly on his toes so the click of his heels didn't disturb the lounge's quietude. "Sihok."

Sihok saluted both Janus and Virgil, though his attention was mostly on Janus. "Scheduled shore leave?"

"A welcome party," Janus said, holding out his hand for a shake.

Sihok eyed it with what Virgil regarded incorrectly as apathy and Janus recognized as disgust and a trace of amusement. After a fraction of a section of hesitation, he shook Janus' hand. "And this is the new recruit?" he asked, indicating Virgil with a small nod.

"Ensign Virgil Salem," Janus said.

Virgil, who had been trained in cross-cultural contact, gave the proper Vulcan salute with a trembling hand. Despite being unable to decipher Sihok's body language, he could sense the tension between Sihok and Janus as keenly as he could the difference between scotch and bourbon. Somewhere behind them, Virgil registered the click of their drinks being set down.

"Ensign Salem," said Sihok. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Virgil said, trying not to fidget.

"It is gratifying to know that you've held on to your manners despite your proximity to Chu'lak and his… half-measures."

Virgil's eyes went wide and he quickly averted his gaze. But to Virgil's surprise, Janus, rather than dressing Sihok down, gave a cold chuckle and put a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "It's Janus. Captain Janus Gaines."

"You always did have trouble conforming," Sihok said.

"Yes," said Janus, "Mathematically speaking, I thought I would go for half acceptance. How do I measure up?"

Seeing that his companions were otherwise occupied in their strange battle of insults, Virgil rotated slightly to retrieve his drink from the bar behind him. He had a feeling he was going to need it if Sihok stuck around for much longer.

Sihok lifted one eyebrow ever so slightly. "They call you The Mad Vulcan."

"Well, now you have my attention." Janus turned and retrieved his own drink. "Shall we get a booth?" He knew perfectly well that Sihok was getting at something, and the mystery of the subject matter had him more curious than he would care to admit. He was reasonably sure he had managed to hide this from Sihok, having expressed anger and amusement as a sort of misdirection.

Virgil said, "Is this a worm?" He held his drink up to the light, examining the fizzing red liquid within to try to get a better look at the thing floating in it. "Like mezcal?" From the look Janus gave him, he judged that the universal translator hadn't been able to find a good Vulcan equivalent of the word. "Never mind. Booth?"

"But first." Janus held up his glass for Virgil to toast. "Congratulations, Ensign Salem. Welcome to the Foley."

"I didn't want to go to that stupid lounge, anyway," Remus said, crossing his arms. In a fit of pique, he grabbed Roman's braid, which ended just shy of his lower back, and gave it a yank.

"Oh, don't pick a fight with me just because you're grumpy," Roman said, flicking Remus' temple. "There's a million other things to do; I'm sure we can find something more fun than stalking the Captain and the new kid."

"Drugs?" said Remus, brightening considerably.

"I meant like a roller coaster or something, but if you want to go find an upper, I guess that's--"

"Let's go!" Remus started walking away.

"Seriously?" Roman said. "I was kidding! An island full of stuff to do and you want to get high?"

"Re-lax, Vrih. Janus will have a fit if I bring drugs onto the Foley, inside or outside of me. This is more of a personal challenge." Remus continued on his merry way, weaving behind buildings and sticking to areas so nondescript that Roman would have stayed away from them out of pure instinct.

"C'mon, Vaebri, I'm sure the heavily-regulated pleasure planet doesn't have a scary criminal underbelly for you to infiltrate. We're wasting time."

"We're almost there," said Remus.

"What do you mean we're almost there? Almost where? You've never even been here before."

"Do you ever shut up?"

Roman crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, but continued to follow Remus as he strode away from everything that made Lotus Island appealing. They ventured past a few 'Keep Out' signs written in Federation Standard and Vulcan into a gray jungle of humming machinery all locked inside tamper-resistant metal cages. Remus darted up to one particular machine and wasted no time jamming his face up against the grating.

"I'm gonna leave," Roman threatened, his arms still tightly crossed over his chest.

Remus was only half-listening, having just uncovered something he found far more interesting than gambling or thrill rides. "This powers an elevator!"

"Ooh," said Roman, barely giving the gray machinery a glance, "an elevator. Not like the Foley has turbolifts or anything."

"Someone wasn't paying attention to Logan's little spiel."

"Uh, yeah, Ensign Salem."

"No, no. You know what's under the island?"

"Water?"

Remus rolled his eyes and gave Roman's braid another tug. "You've been spending too much time with the Captain.

"Will you knock that off?" Roman demanded, kicking Remus in the shin.

"It's the staff's living quarters!" Remus said, growing bored with the argument.

"Oh," said Roman. "So we're definitely sneaking down there to take a look around?"

"Way ahead of you," Remus said, already fiddling with the control panel.

Behind them came the distinctive hiss of turbolift doors opening, followed by conversation. Roman and Remus, in a moment of synchronization, both turned on their heels and stood at attention. As Romulan twins, they were both fully aware of the attention they tended to attract once strangers figured out they weren't Vulcans. But the pair of humans, both wearing hot pink uniforms denoting them as staff members of Ya'Lotus, didn't so much as glance up as they carried on toward the Midway.

The twins exchanged a glance, then Remus dived for the closing doors with Roman hot on his tail.

"Nice," said Roman, already examining the panel of buttons.

Remus pressed one at random and the elevator began to drop, taking them far beneath the surface of Lotus Island. When the doors opened again, the twins were met with the sight of pale blue walls and concrete floors. It was eerily silent.

Roman stepped out hesitantly, looking around for any possible passers-by, but there was no one. He motioned for Remus to come out after him. While Remus held the higher rank, arbitrarily bestowed by Janus, Roman was the older (and bossier) twin and had yet to relinquish the sense of authority he had gained from a childhood of leading Remus around Romulus and, later, Decos Prime.

"What language is that?" Remus asked, nodding at the phrases painted on the walls.

Roman studied it for a moment. "Federation Standard. Sickbay is to the left, plus the Medical Staff Break Room. Living Quarters to the right."

"Break room," said Remus, already heading toward it. Roman fell into step beside him, so perfectly synchronized that the click of their heels on the concrete sounded like that of only one person. It was a trick they had perfected in childhood that had served them well in previous instances of trespassing.

"It's kinda freaky down here," Roman muttered. "Where is everybody?"

Remus shrugged. "Sleeping? Working?" He wasn't too bothered. Remus was of the mind that getting caught was half the fun of misbehaving.

"And what do you want with Sickbay, anyway?" No sooner had the words left Roman's lips did realization click into place. "Are you still on drugs?" he hissed, barely resisting the urge to grab Remus by the shirt and drag him back to the elevator.

"No, I'm not on drugs," Remus whispered back, displaying a picture-perfect shit-eating grin. "That's the problem." Upon spotting the door to the break room, he fell out of step with Roman and lunged forward to peek inside.

Roman was savvy enough to stop walking when he noticed Remus breaking away. He watched, half annoyed and half embracing the inevitable, as Remus froze in the doorway with wide eyes. With his facial tattoos, his unruly hair, and his mustache (which he had to shave before every inspection), Remus did not pass for Vulcan half as well as Roman did, even with his long hair.

Still, Remus straightened and crossed his arms behind his back, falling into a passable impression of Vulcan stoicism. "Good morning."

In the hall, Roman frantically flashed the Vulcan salute, trying to get Remus to notice.

"Officer," said a voice from within.

"Lieutenant Commander," said Remus, wiggling his fingers playfully at Roman behind his back.

"Did he send you?" asked another voice.

Remus' facade fractured for a moment, his lips twitching with excitement. He clenched one hand into a fist and shook it at Roman as much as his current positioning would allow. Roman rolled his eyes, confident now that Remus could see him.

"Yes." Remus had to fight to hold still as he stared down the two Caitians lounging at a table in the center of the room. They both had PADDs and communicators in front of them, both had half-empty mugs of a substance Remus couldn't identify.

One of the Caitians, whose name tag identified her as M'Birr, tilted her head at Remus, pupils going wide. "Shaa. What if he's lying?"

Remus rocked forward onto his toes, and he flashed several nonsense hand gestures at Roman behind his back in excitement. It was time to bring out one of Janus' favorite lines, albeit with less sarcasm than the Captain usually employed. "Vulcans do not lie."

"Yeah," said Shaa, her pupils also wide, "I have heard that. Beside, the Big Guy would have vetted him before sending him to us."

Bored with the waffling, Remus decided to take a risk. He had no way of knowing what or who the Caitians were referring to, or even if there was any mischief afoot. But Remus had a nose for trouble and he could see Roman getting bored in the hall. So he adjusted his posture and fixed M'Birr with his best impression of a calculating Vulcan stare. "I was instructed to obtain a sample of the product."

It was all he could do not to squirm in delight when M'Birr sighed and said, "He could have at least given you a Staff shirt. How am I supposed to sneak a member of Starfleet into Sickbay?"

"Incidentally," said Remus, still wiggling his fingers at Roman, who was pantomiming shock in his peripheral vision, "I wasn't told the name of the product."

"Like it matters," said M'Birr. "They're calling it 'kin.' How much did he tell you to move?"

Before Remus could answer, one of the communicators on the table chirped. "Voight here."

"Shaa."

"Starfleet's onto us."

Shaa side-eyed Remus, who took pains to hold completely still. "How can you be sure?"

"We've got two hitting all the stops on the trail. Not buying. Just looking. They went straight from the Help Desk to the Founder's Statue."

Remus and Roman sighed in tandem, both knowing full well it had to be Patton and Logan making their rounds on the self-guided tour.

"Not with us," Remus mouthed, looking M'Birr in the eye.

She exchanged a glance with Shaa, who shrugged briefly and addressed the communicator again. "What's the plan?"

"Dispatch. We can't let them off the planet."

"On our way." The two Caitians stood and moved toward the doorway where Remus was still standing. "Sorry, Lieutenant Commander, but we've got trouble."

Unable to help himself, Remus said, "You're just gonna leave me down here?"

"I'd think a Vulcan would know better than to cause trouble," M'Birr said pointedly. "Excuse me." She pushed past Remus, followed closely by Shaa. "And who's this?"

"Backup," said Roman, trying not to react to the sight of the two cat-like aliens before him.

M'Birr stared at him, calculating, but Shaa nudged her and said softly, "We don't have time for this."

"See yourselves out," said M'Birr. She and Shaa took off for the elevators, leaving Roman and Remus to stand awkwardly until they were out of sight.

"Drugs!" said Remus, stamping his heels on the floor and shimmying. "What did I tell you?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Roman, annoyed despite himself that Remus had gotten his way. "Can we go save our friends from getting murdered now?"

"Sure," said Remus, heading back toward the elevator, "if they haven't already died of boredom yet."

After receiving their specially-programmed PADDs for the self-guided tour (along with two bags of saltwater taffy), Patton and Logan had set off for the first stop on the tour.

"Ooh," said Patton, who was attempting to read, walk, and eat taffy at the same time. "There's trivia."

Logan grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him out of the way of a group of Andorians. "I believe that all the knowledge we gain here today could be referred to as 'trivia,' Doctor Kelsey."

"No, no." Patton shoved a candy wrapper in his pocket so he could use both hands to show Logan the PADD. "There's a trivia contest at the end! We should pay extra close attention."

"Noted," said Logan. "I will make an effort to keep the information in my memory banks."

"Oh, by the way." Patton navigated back to the map of Lotus Island. "You can call me Patton, you know."

"If you're sure," said Logan. "I am aware of the human concept of 'politeness' and did not wish to overstep if you were being polite when you introduced yourself."

"Nope! You really can call me Patton," Patton said cheerfully, holding up the PADD and rotating it, trying to get his bearings. "Where's Virgil when you need him?"

(Virgil was, at the moment, weighing up the benefits of crawling under the table and abandoning Janus and Sihok to their Vulcan mind games)

"Allow me to assist." Logan removed his own borrowed PADD from under his arm. "Next up is the, ah, 'Fun Wheel.'"

"That thing?" Patton asked, pointing to the massive Ferris wheel ahead of them. At their current proximity, the hulking metal contraption dominated the horizon.

"Yes," said Logan, biting back a sarcastic comment. The Captain responded well to sarcasm and Logan's communication style had evolved accordingly, but time and experience had shown that most people found Janus' sarcasm off-putting. And Logan had seen him don the mask of diplomacy, which received much better reception. So Logan decided he would be diplomatic in the hopes that it would make Patton feel at-ease. Logan did not want to be the crewmember responsible for scaring off their new CMO.

They made for the Ferris wheel, Patton still with his nose buried in the PADD. "You get more taffy for correctly answering trivia questions!"

"What could we possibly do with more taffy?" Logan asked.

"Share it with the others!"

They reached the viewing platform of the defunct Fun Wheel and both held up their PADDs to read the description.

What the PADDs did not tell them was that less than 30 guests attended the self-guided tour per Earth year and those guests that did were rarely members of Starfleet. The PADDs had also not been programmed with the knowledge that every single stop on the tour was a tradeoff point for distributors of a new drug known colloquially as 'kin,' as the scientific name was several syllables long, untranslatable from Golic Vulcan, and contained a multitude of niche phonemes.

"Do you smell that?" Logan asked, searching his memory banks for several pieces of data at once.

Patton sniffed and looked around in confusion. "The ocean?" Most of Ya'Lotus consisted of a saltwater ocean that contained no indigenous life. The sea breeze was fresh and cool and smelled, to Patton's human nose, unremarkable.

Logan shook his head. "There is a strong chemical smell emanating from the lower cabin of the Ferris wheel. I believe it may be opioid in nature."

"Opioid?" Patton sniffed and again could only smell rust and sweet ocean air. "You can get all that just from the smell?"

Logan nodded and approached the low metal fence, leaning over it to try to get a closer look at the cabin. It was caged off and covered with a fine mesh that blocked even his keen android eyesight. He cycled through his senses, again landing on smell as his best means of solving the puzzle before him. Beneath the smell of iron and grease, there was a definite tang of something other, something distinctly sedative. He wasn't specialized to identify chemicals like this, and the sensation of answers dancing just out of reach in his databank was enough to elicit an emotional reaction. He looked at Patton and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fuck."

"Whoa!" said Patton, tucking the PADD under his arm. "What's wrong?"

"Forgive me, Doct-- Patton. I am expressing frustration because I would like to know the source of the smell."

Patton leaned in over the guardrail. "Maybe it's just an industrial agent you're smelling? I can't think of any reason why opioid drugs would be anywhere near a Ferris wheel. Not here, anyway. Not on this planet."

"You're right," Logan said. "I will let it go." To emphasize this, he let go of the railing and stepped back. "Are you finished reading?"

"Yeah," said Patton, also backing up. "Let's move on."

And they turned and walked away from the first hidden kin manufacturing still on the tour.

By this point, Janus was fairly sure Sihok was getting at something, though he was circling around the point like a seabird waiting for the kill. It was a tactic Janus could respect, though it was decidedly un-Vulcan. Virgil, meanwhile, signaled for another round of drinks with his fingers. He too had an idea that Sihok was getting at something, and that Janus was as well. While he was admittedly inexperienced with Vulcan body language, he was reasonably sure that Janus hadn't figured it out yet. With boredom and alcohol combining in his mind, Virgil sat back and decided to try to figure it out before Janus did. Sure, he was just an Ensign, but he wasn't stupid.

At the moment, Sihok and Janus (whom Sihok insistently referred to by his Vulcan name, Chu'lak) were talking lightly about their careers.

"I thought," said Janus, drawing one fingertip around the rim of his glass, "you were studying xenobiochemistry."

"I was."

"So how did you end up here of all places?" He gestured to the room at large. Virgil, tracking the movement with his eyes, caught sight of the pinball machine and gazed longingly at it before remembering himself. "As I recall, you had a natural talent for the sciences. If you'll forgive my saying so, working security at a glorified casino seems a bit beneath you."

Sihok's expression did not change that Virgil could see, but he marked that Janus was smirking just a bit.

Sihok nodded. "I discovered in the course of my schooling that xenobiochemistry better suits me as a hobby. And, if you will permit a lapse in logic, I find the the atmosphere of Ya'Lotus most agreeable."

"You dig the vibe," Virgil blurted before he could stop himself. Janus and Sihok both stared at him and before his eyes, the expressions he had mistaken for disapproval read simply as confused. A small spark of triumph ignited in him; he was learning to understand Vulcan mannerisms.

"That didn't translate," Janus said.

"I thought you spoke Federation Standard," Virgil said.

"That was not Federation Standard."

Virgil's cheeks began to burn. "Ah, never mind. You were saying?"

"I think," said Sihok, "there is a certain beauty in mathematics. Do you agree?"

"Sure," said Janus. "But why do I get the feeling that you're not referring to fractals?"

Virgil fished a maraschino cherry out of his drink and began to bat it around the table with his fingertips.

"There is an objective beauty in symmetry," Sihok said vaguely. "No one could argue that. But it's asymmetry that has my interest. Chu'lak, answer a question for me."

"Yes?"

"Where are you staying tonight?"

Virgil stilled, his eyes flicking to Janus. He had no doubt that the question had translated oddly, that Sihok wasn't seriously propositioning Janus. But Janus had been given an opportunity to tease, and even from his limited experience aboard the Foley, Virgil knew that Janus rarely passed up an opportunity to make fun.

"I hadn't decided yet," Janus said with an arch smile, staring at Sihok under his lashes. "The Foley, I suppose, or someplace lavish if I ever make it to the casino."

Virgil resumed playing with the cherry, knowing on some level that he was behaving unprofessionally. He was just drunk enough to not care, the alcohol softening the sharp edges of his anxieties.

"Why?" Sihok asked.

"Why?" Janus repeated.

"You have everything you need on the Foley, don't you? And the free accommodations here are sufficient to sustain life? Why strive for more?"

Janus made no effort to hide his confusion. His patience was wearing thin. He had been intrigued at first by Sihok's vague enterprise, but his insistent refusal to get the point left Janus struggling for diplomacy. "I didn't think you cared for philosophy, Sihok. You've changed."

"Think it over," Sihok said.

The maraschino cherry rolled across the table. Virgil grabbed for it, having flicked it a little harder than intended, but missed, and watched in a hazy mixture of horror and amusement as it rolled off the edge of the table, hit Janus in the knee, and bounced to the floor.

"Sorry," Virgil mumbled, already ducking to grab it. Movement under the table caught his eye; Sihok adjusted his grip on something. Forgetting the cherry, Virgil eyed it curiously. It looked very like the rolls of Lifesavers that Alpha Proxima II would import from Earth, little pieces of culture to keep the colonists connected to their heritage. Virgil had preferred dark chocolate bars and later, coffee and brandy, but his mother had been quite fond of the sharp taste of spearmint Lifesavers. Whatever Sihok had a grip on was wrapped in a translucent white paper that allowed Virgil to see the colorful discs within. Not wanting to linger too long, Virgil resurfaced with the cherry and set it down on a cocktail napkin. "Sorry," he said again.

"Didn't you say you wanted to try the pinball machine?" Janus asked. He was already formulating an exit strategy, but it had never been his intention to hold Virgil hostage. Sihok was taking his time getting to his point, and this was supposed to be a welcome party for Virgil. "Here." He scooted out of the booth and stood.

"Thank you," Virgil said. He walked slowly, listening as Janus apologized and Sihok began to wax philosophical once more about the beauty of asymmetry in mathematics.

A few rounds on the Starfleet-themed pinball machine only left Virgil frustrated and half-sober, overstimulated. He didn't understand why Janus didn't just make an excuse and go. They had both been drawn in by Sihok's vague manner, but Virgil knew that his continued refusal to get to the point must have been driving Janus crazy.

The music changed to something reminiscent of heavy metal, blast beats ringing loud in Virgil's ears. He practically felt in his face: the shredding guitars, the way all the conversations became louder to compensate, the beeps of the pinball machine. Virgil had been declared mentally fit to serve in Starfleet, having proven he could push through bouts of anxiety and even thrive in high-pressure situations. But subjecting himself to the torment of this noisy bar was unpleasant and wholly unnecessary, so he turned and followed signs for the bathroom.

Once inside, he leaned back against one of the cool metal walls, heedless of the potential for infection. He had been vaccinated for just about everything under the sun upon joining Starfleet and he doubted any pathogen on Lotus Island could make it through his defenses.

The door opened and shut and a human stepped in, eyed Virgil up and down. "You look like you could use a chill pill."

It was old vernacular, slang Virgil had picked up at the Academy, because no one on Alpha Proxima II talked like that. He was quiet for a moment, wondering if this stranger was merely using a turn of phrase or if they were, in fact, stupid enough to offer drugs to a member of Starfleet. He decided on the former. "Am I that obvious?"

"You're about to chew a hole in your lip," the stranger said. "Look, you're already bleeding."

Virgil had long grown used to the taste of iron on the tip of his tongue. "It's just a little loud out there."

"I've got meds that can help with that," the stranger said.

Virgil blinked and reassessed: they really were that dumb. "I'm Starfleet," he said incredulously, glancing down at his yellow tunic in case he had somehow taken it off and forgotten about it.

"So what, you're not allowed to cut loose a little? You're on vacation."

Virgil scoffed and let the back of his head rest on the wall, marveling at the audacity of this strange human.

To buy himself time, he walked over to the sink and began to wash his hands. A plan was beginning to form in Virgil's head, neurons firing and making connections. He steeled himself and turned back to the stranger. "How much?"

"So, and just so I'm crystal clear on this," Remus said, stomping along beside Roman with his unstyled mohawk ruffled by the breeze, "our heroic plan to rescue Patton and Logan is to take the guided tour?"

"Oh, shut up." Roman backed away from the Help Desk and shoved the PADD at Remus. "Ugh, I don't understand maps at all. Where's Virgil when you need him?"

(Answer: Making a drug deal in the bathroom of the Tier III Lounge).

Remus studied the PADD. Roman had already set the translation to Romulan, but it was crude and hard to navigate. "Man of metals?" he asked, squinting.

"Oh, nevermind." Roman snatched the PADD back and began to walk. "It's the Founder's Statue. It's made of titanium and platinum. Get it?"

"Well, that's a terrible translation," Remus grumbled.

"Maybe you should learn Federation Standard," Roman nagged. This was far from the first argument they'd had about it and he already knew that Remus would refuse point-blank, masking his frustration and insecurity behind stubbornness. Remus had none of his brother's knack for languages, and while he was a talented engineer, he'd always struggled with his classes far more than Roman had.

"Maybe the Federation should start using Romulan," Remus shot back, and changed the subject before Roman could escalate the argument. "You never answered my question. What's the plan?"

"We need to catch up with either Patton and Logan or, uh… the Caitians."

"Shaa," Remus said with unnecessary smugness, pleased to have something on Roman, "and M'Birr."

"Sure."

They were both out of breath by the time they reached the Founder's Statue, both privately regretting the decision to wear heeled boots. The marginal boost to their height still left them the shortest members of the crew, a fact for which Janus loved to tease them.

"Onward to the next one," Roman said, looking around and seeing no one. He held up the PADD, and Remus peered over his shoulder.

"Rotation wheel," Remus read in Romulan. He looked up at the towering Ferris wheel in the near distance. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard to find."

"It's called a Ferris wheel," Roman complained. "It's a proper noun. Why would they try to translate that?"

Remus paused so he could stamp his foot. "Focus."

"Yeah, yeah." Roman tucked the PADD under his arm.

They caught sight of the two Caitians just after the Ferris wheel and pulled back to avoid being spotted.

"They have guns!" Remus said, a touch too loud even for his own liking. "Real guns! Not phasers!"

"Speaking of…" Roman sighed and touched his hip where his phaser and communicator would sit. Weapons were not allowed anywhere on Ya'Lotus and communication was restricted to their own official channels. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Vulcan nerve pinch?" Remus reached over and grabbed Roman's neck.

Roman stared at him, unamused. "Right, so we'll just try to stay out of a fight. Maybe if we can get around them, we can catch Logan and Patton and, uh… Well, get the Captain, I guess."

"Running off to get Daddy at the first sign of trouble," Remus sighed. "This is why I got promoted and you didn't."

"Yes, that's why. Not because you were the only one stupid enough to risk bleaching the Captain's eyebrows for him."

"Only chemical burned him one time!" Remus said proudly. "Where are we going, by the way?"

"Oh." Roman consulted the PADD. "Banana stand."

"What's a--"

"Walk and talk."

Remus shook Roman's hand off his shoulder. "What's that?"

"It's a kind of Earth fruit. I'm sure they have them here, since the founder of Ya'Lotus was human."

"Boring," said Remus. "Race you!" He took off running, moving awkwardly in his heeled boots. Roman sighed, looked around, and grabbed a tandem bike. It was not the most dignified form of transportation on the island, but it was one he happened to be familiar with. He and Remus both had a bit of a fascination with human history: Remus specializing in weaponry and warfare and Roman preferring to study courtship rituals. He mounted the bike with only a little difficulty, found his balance, and pedaled after Remus

"C'mon, get on."

"Oh!" said Remus happily, not even bothered by the direct order. "It's like a motorcycle with pedals!"

"How have you heard of a motorcycle but not a banana?"

"Will you focus?" Remus flicked Roman's shoulder blade. "You are now officially the Navigator and Helmsman of the Federation vessel Gemini."

"Subtle." Roman would have rolled his eyes, but between trying to steer and keep an eye on the PADD, didn't want to risk it. "What does that make you?"

"The Captain, obviously," Remus said. Roman put his head down as they pedaled by Shaa and M'Birr, but Remus whooped and flashed them a rude hand sign.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Roman wheezed, a little winded from having to haul both his and Remus' weight. "Fucking pedal!"

"Don't talk to your captain like that," Remus said, giving the pedals a few half-hearted turns.

"Could you at least take this a little seriously? Our crewmates are in danger!"

"Oh," said Remus, kicking his feet out, "guns aren't that dangerous. Not compared to phasers."

Roman just huffed and didn't answer. He steered them to the banana stand without incident and, upon seeing Patton and Logan about to leave, dived off the bike to reach them. Ignoring Remus' annoyed cries behind him, he sprinted over to his wayward crewmates. "Hey!"

"Roman," said Logan, glancing over at Patton in surprise. "You appear to be in distress."

"We gotta get out of here," Roman said in Romulan. Despite the universal translator, he usually switched to Federation Standard out of politeness when speaking with Logan and their human crewmates (though Patton's native language was Welsh), but he was too stressed at the moment to try to switch gears.

Behind him, Remus cursed and examined his left palm, which he had thrown out to break his fall when the bike had tipped. "I'm gonna kill you."

"Kill me later!" Roman shouted back. "We gotta go!" He wrapped his arms around Patton and Logan's waists and started to steer them toward the crowded boardwalk. "Remus!"

"I'm bleeding!" Remus said, scampering to meet them.

"You are?" Patton stopped and turned, ignoring Roman's cursing. "Is it bad?"

"Kiss it better?" Remus asked, batting his lashes.

Roman dragged his hands down his face. "Do you want to get in a gunfight with-- Oh, don't answer that. Of course you do."

"Forgive me, Lieutenant, did you say gunfight?" Logan asked, extricating himself from Roman's slackening grip.

"We don't have time for this!" Roman stamped his foot to try to get Remus' attention, but he was too busy playing up his injury for Patton. He only had a few minor scrapes across his palm, a few dots of green blood here and there.

"Roman, I must insist that you explain," Logan said. "I understand that you are agitated, but if you simply explain the situation, I'm sure we can--"

"We don't have time!" Roman interrupted. "Is it not enough to know that we're in danger?" He turned to his brother, desperation shining in his eyes. "Back me up on this."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you tried to murder your superior officer," Remus said as Patton continued to pick bits of gravel out of his palm.

Along the path, Roman caught sight of the Caitians. Their pace was quick but not frantic as they scanned the horizon for their target, hands on their guns. Roman whispered an untranslatable swear word and made a decision.

Abandoning his crewmates, he straightened, crossed his arms behind his back, and strode forward to meet M'Birr and Shaa.

"Greetings" he said, trying not to let his voice tremble.

"You again?" said Shaa, crossing her arms. "Where's your partner?"

Roman swallowed. "After some discussion, we agreed it would be logical to interfere on your behalf."

"How so?" M'Birr asked. She frowned at Roman, her eyes scanning him.

"We acted under the belief that Starfleet officers would be more likely to trust other Starfleet officers. As you can see, we were correct. We have gained their trust and ascertained that they are not aware of the operation." Shaa tilted her head, and Roman felt compelled to add, "Vulcans do not lie."

"If you're really Vulcans," M'Birr said, still eyeing him with wide-pupiled green eyes. "And not, say, Romulans."

Roman forced his face to remain impassive. "That is an easy mistake to make, particularly if one is not familiar--"

"Oh, shut up." M'Birr drew her gun. "We can take care of all four of you."

Roman's pulse and breathing quickened, his vision narrowing to a very small spot, centering on the matte black of M'Birr's handgun. It was bulkier than a phaser and, he reminded himself, less deadly. He stared at the barrel, mind formulating and discarding half-formed plans for escape. Regardless of what Remus had said, he really didn't want to get shot.

What Roman did not see in his narrow-minded panic, was Remus abandoning Patton and flanking his brother and his assailants. He also did not see Patton flanking the other side, nor did he notice Logan appropriating a golf cart from a confused family of humans.

Remus flew into Roman's field of vision and tackled M'Birr, followed shortly by Patton who dropped Shaa with a sweeping kick to the knees. Adrenaline kicked in and Roman grabbed Remus by the wrist and hauled him up, spotted the golf cart, and dived for it. Patton beat them there and swung around to the passenger seat.

"Go, go, go!" they all shrieked, and Logan obediently stepped on the accelerator. The golf cart began to roll forward at a leisurely pace.

"Oh, are you kidding me?" Roman demanded.

"It's okay!" Remus said. He had turned so he could peer out the back, and was happy to see Shaa and M'Birr still struggling on the ground. "Dang, Patton, I think you broke Shaa's leg."

"Don't say that!" Patton wrapped his arms around himself and instead turned his attention to Roman. "What was that all about, anyway?"

Roman explained, punctuated by interjections from Remus. This concluded with Remus sitting back in his seat with a huff. "I can't believe nobody got shot."

"Should we have confiscated their guns?" Patton wondered out loud.

"Hopefully security will deal with them," Logan said. "Does anyone know where the Tier III Lounge is, by the way? I've been making evasive maneuvers, and now I am unsure--"

"So we're lost," Remus interrupted. "Possibly with more assassins after us, if the kitties called for backup."

Roman rested his forehead against the back of Patton's seat. "I hope the Captain is having a better day than we are."

Despite the lack of immediate danger, Janus was having a much worse day than the whole of his crew, save perhaps Virgil, who was still negotiating his drug deal in the bathroom.

"So you see," Sihok was saying, his drink nearly untouched, "an asymmetrical system is beautiful not only for those at the top, but for those at the bottom by instilling hope in them that they might someday reach the top."

"Capitalism," said Janus, bored. "You just described capitalism."

"Perhaps I did," Sihok said, and displayed the Vulcan equivalent of a guarded smile.

Janus masked his utter confusion behind raucous laughter. "Sihok, what exactly are you implying?"

"Nothing at all," said Sihok primly. "I was merely displaying my admiration for the artful execution of a certain style of economics."

That was when Virgil emerged from the bathroom clutching a roll of tablets, the drug known as 'kin.' It was identical to the one Sihok was holding, and the implications of this turned his stomach. Sihok was head of security for the whole of Ya'Lotus, and the way he had spoken to Janus had implied that he was after something, though Virgil had no idea what it could be.

Virgil hurried over to the table, heart racing in anticipation of what he was about to do. He had information that Janus might need and he couldn't speak it out loud. After hearing he had been assigned to the Foley, he had made a point to study the biology and abilities of Vulcans, though he had no idea what telepathic abilities Janus might have inherited as a human-Vulcan hybrid, and a genetic anomaly at that. Virgil was taking a risk, one that might draw the Captain's ire or make him look foolish, which was as dire a consequence to Virgil as death.

He approached the booth and, before Janus could get up, gently rested his hand on Janus' shoulder.

Janus froze. Sihok marked this, and Virgil noticed him notice. Dread trickled down his spine like cold water. "Excuse me, Captain," he said weakly.

"Bored already?" Janus asked. He directed an amused look at Sihok and said, "The human attention span," in a tone of patient exhaustion, then got up to let Virgil in.

Virgil was careful not to brush up against Sihok's legs, but he could tell that Sihok was staring as he scooted back up against the wall. Despite Janus' lack of reaction, he had a sneaking suspicion that his plan had worked too well and that not only Janus, but Sihok as well had picked up on the information he had transmitted.

They all lingered for a moment in a silent standoff. It was Janus who broke the silence, laughing again and rolling his eyes. "I have to say, Sihok, I'm a little disappointed. And offended, if I'm being honest." He took the roll of kin from Virgil and set it on the table. "You're pushing a capitalist drug empire on a pleasure planet. What was the master plan? To establish a capitalist regime within the Federation with you at the top? How un-Vulcan."

Sihok ignored the slight. "I had intended to offer you a partnership. Are you declining?"

"Was that not obvious?" Janus asked, abandoning the last of his pretense at Vulcan restraint. "Not only am I declining, I'm calling you an idiot. Sihok, you are an idiot and a disgrace to the planet Vulcan, and I don't mean that as a compliment. I suppose now you're going to kill us before we can report you to Starfleet?"

"Yes," said Sihok.

"How?" asked Janus. "We're sitting down. Do you want to arm wrestle us to death?" Sihok took a breath to speak and Janus cut him off, "Don't even think about your phaser. Sure, you could get one of us, at which point the other would disarm you."

"Well," said Sihok, "it seems we have reached an impasse."

Virgil took another risk. "May I?" he asked, nodding at Sihok's drink. "You haven't touched it and if I'm going down today, I'm going down drinking."

"Control your crewman," Sihok said to Janus, deadly serious.

Virgil took the drink. "Thanks." He held onto the tumbler, using the numbing ache of chilled glass against his palm to ground himself.

"So," said Janus, disregarding Virgil, "an impasse."

"About that," said Sihok. "Your Ensign is new to Starfleet; you said so earlier." He drew his phaser and aimed it at Janus. "I do not believe he has the capacity to disarm me, especially as he has been drinking and his reaction time will be slowed."

Thinking that now was as good a time as any, Virgil touched Janus' leg and splashed his drink in Sihok's face. They both scrambled out of the booth and sprinted out the door. They paused for a moment to get their bearings, and that was when a golf cart plowed into Virgil at a speed equivalent to 10 miles per hour.

Logan hit the brake and reversed so as not to run over Virgil's legs. "Forgive me, Ensign Salem. Are you alright?"

Roman, who hadn't picked his head up from the back of Patton's seat, began to lightly tap his forehead against the metal support bar. "Please tell me you didn't just kill our Helmsman when we need him most."

Virgil scrambled to his feet, too full of adrenaline to register any serious pain. "We gotta get out of here."

"You too, huh?" Remus said. He patted the seat next to him and addressed Janus. "Climb aboard."

Janus hopped on and was forced to sit on Remus' lap. Unruffled, he barked, "Ensign Salem, evasive maneuvers. Now."

Virgil hopped into the driver's seat, which Logan had recently vacated, waited for Logan to clamber onto the back of the golf cart, and slammed down the accelerator. "Where to?"

"Evasive maneuvers, Ensign Salem. Let's lose our pursuers before we worry about a destination."

"Yes, sir." Virgil pulled around the back of the Tier III Lounge just as a dripping-wet Sihok emerged, phaser drawn. The chase that ensued was unremarkable, as the golf cart began to pick up speed while emitting a worrisome whining noise.

"I made some adjustments to the engine while we were moving," Remus said proudly.

"That's impossible," Janus answered.

"I said that, too," Logan said.

Virgil continued to steer them in concentric circles around Lotus Island, self-assessing now that he was calmer. He could already feel the dull ache of impending bruises on his hip and elbow, but the damage seemed minimal.

"So," said Roman, "who are you evading?"

"Oh," said Janus, feigning boredom, "just a would-be capitalist drug lord Vulcan hellbent on murdering us. You?"

Roman put the pieces together. "Said Vulcan's lackeys, also hellbent on murdering us."

"Oh!" said Patton and Logan simultaneously, albeit for very different reasons: Patton to express dismay and concern, Logan realizing why he had smelled opioids earlier.

"You're welcome, by the way," Remus said, addressing Patton since he was easier to reach. "Those Caitians were after you and Logan."

"Thanks," Patton said weakly. "You know, I'm not feeling very relaxed."

Janus looked around and, seeing no trace of either murderous Caitians or murderous Vulcans, leaned forward to address Virgil. "Set a course for the Transporter Building, departures terminal. Let's get the Hell out of here."

After making some arrangements on the viewing deck, Janus arranged for Virgil and Patton to be summoned from their rooms, where they had both gone to decompress. Virgil and Remus had first been strongarmed into going to Sickbay, where Patton looked them over and pronounced them fit for duty.

Remus was showing off his bandaged hand to Janus and regaling him with a greatly embellished tale of how he had received the injury when the doors slid open and Virgil and Patton appeared.

Patton came in first, Virgil lingering behind him. "Aw!" he said, looking around at the array of alcohol and finger foods arranged picnic-style on the floor. "What's this?"

"It's your welcome party," Janus explained. "Since Ya'Lotus didn't quite work out. Come sit."

Patton sat down next to Logan, leaving Virgil to occupy the empty space next to Janus. Janus offered him half a smile. "You did well today, Virgil. You may even have saved my life." He paused, then added, "Although I probably still could have disarmed Sihok before he got the shot off. Regardless." He poured Virgil a glass of bourbon. "Thank you, Ensign Salem. You did well."

"Yay, Virgil!" Patton said happily.

After ensuring that everyone had drinks, Janus regained command of everyone's attention and raised his glass. "A toast to honor our new crewmates. Virgil Salem, Patton Kelsey." He looked at them in turn. "Welcome aboard the Foley."

#spicywrites #spicywrites ticket crimes #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #platonic dlampr

6 notes · View notes

almndjin · 4 years

Text

Black Water Lillies | 1/5

● summary: It was normal for you to chase down a suspect on the night of a stakeout but when you get thrown (quite literally) into something supernatural, you might need a little supernatural partner to help you finish the job.

or; wherein you and Yoongi team up to catch the bad guy.

● pairing: witch!yoongi x detective!reader | ft. Namjoon and Hoseok

● genre: witch au, supernatural au, magic, mystery, fluff

● rating: SFW

● warnings: swearing, reader gets thrown into the ocean, mention of human sacrifice

● word count: 5.6k

● author’s note: I was listening to AURORA’s Black Water Lillies when I came up with this story. I am 100% sure there are multiple wrong descriptions about the reader’s and Namjoon’s professions. My knowledge can only go as far a watching some TV shows (I dunno if that makes sense). Feedback is always welcome!

The day started pretty normal.

When you arrive at the station your desk is already full of paperwork waiting for you to finish them. You grumbled at the sight and found yourself heading towards the break room for a cup of coffee to fuel yourself for the boring day ahead.

The weather didn’t help either. The gloomy cloud looming over the city didn’t motivate you to even get out of bed for work. You just wanted to stay inside the safety of your warm blanket and forget the world, but you have got bills to pay and food to eat for survival.

Maybe you shouldn’t have expected your day to go as normally as possible because once evening came and you were called for a stakeout, you weren’t prepared on how your day, your life, would shift.

“He’s heading towards the back alley!” Your partner yelled on the radio, almost making you yank the earpiece off of your ear at how loud his voice had suddenly gotten, “He’s armed!”

Your legs moved quickly, mind catching up a bit later. You're more of a do now think later kind of person anyway, and you were sure that it would get you killed one of these days.

You caught sight of the suspect, running a few meters ahead of you. Legs straining, you try your best to catch up. You caught a glimpse of his hands and noticed it was occupied by something. He was surely armed but that didn’t stop you from pursuing him. It has taken you months to get a lead on your suspect, and there is no way you would let him get away.

“Damn! I don’t get paid enough for this!” You huffed as you round a sharp corner of the narrow alleyway.

It was getting darker now, and a few drops of rain started pouring lightly. You curse at the dew drops pelting your way as your breath becomes haggard.

“Y/N stop! Backup is on the way, they’ll cut him off at the next street!”

“He’ll get away!” You argued as you watched the suspect turn his head to see if you were still running after him.

You can catch him.

At least that’s what you told yourself.

“Stop!”, You screeched at him as if he would listen to you.

He raised his arm and you knew instantly that you would have to dodge the bullet he would send your way. You didn’t hear the familiar ringing sound of a gunshot but instead you heard a loud crackle that sounded like lightning. The small explosion missed you just by a few inches, and only made you stop for a few seconds. You recovered quickly, to which the attacker was surprised.

You didn’t have time to think about what weapon he just fired at you. Blinded by your goal of finally catching him, you surged forward.

You were nearing the port. The smell of the sea fills your nose, and the air becomes thicker as the rain pours. The sky was becoming darker now as the evening approached.

You were becoming tired as you ran to where he was headed. You knew that you would get the upper hand, you can clearly catch him.

As you neared the ocean, his movements slowed and he turned to watch you. You didn’t stop your fast approach, and you were about to tackle him into the ground.

You knew you had made a mistake when you saw the smirk stretching on his lips. It was too late for you once you realized.

Once your body collided with his, he quickly grabbed your shoulder, avoiding your body weight with one hand. Then, there was a flash of light.

You closed your eyes, the light too bright for you. There was pain where he touched you, and you suddenly feel fatigued. Your body sways away from him and the feeling of falling is what you remember. You were sure the asphalt ground would be your landing but that wasn’t the case.

You heard it before you felt it. A loud clap followed by the sound of a body hitting the sea. Your body.

You tasted the salty water as it filled your mouth, your whole being panicking. You look around for the suspect, but he was nowhere to be found.

What boggled your mind was the fact that you were deep into the ocean. Not only that, but you were also surrounded by what seemed like seaweeds. No, not seaweeds.

Flowers.

You grabbed some in your hand before you swam up towards the surface, ignoring the pain in your shoulder.

You gasped for air, the taste of oxygen satisfying after being in the water for so long.

Your mind can’t comprehend what just happened and before you could, your name was already being called, stealing your attention.

“Y/N!” You hear Namjoon’s voice from above you instead of the earpiece that you were sure was already broken.

Great, another cut from your paycheck.

You look up at the boat where Namjoon stands. His face was ridden with exhaustion, but most of all relief.

A towel was wrapped around your shoulders as Namjoon handed you something warm to drink. He sat down beside you, confusion written all over his face. He was probably wondering how you ended up in the water, and frankly to say you were in the same dilemma as he is.

How did you end up in the water and how long have you been here?

Namjoon answered your last internal question, “We lost contact with you 3 hours ago and I-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as you choked on your drink at the revelation.

3 fucking hours? What the fuck?

His large hand pats your back gently, his eyes wide and frantic as he asks if you’re okay. You gave him a nod, unable to speak due to the fact that you almost drowned and choked to death.

You were sure you lost contact as soon as you were transported at the sea but it didn't feel like 3 hours.

“I guess my radio broke when I was still chasing him.” A sorry excuse but what else can you tell him. You hoped that he wouldn’t ask more questions, not when you hadn’t come up with something logical just yet.

You aren’t even sure what happened yourself and there is now way it would remain that way. You have to find out eventually.

Inside the plastic ziplock were the flowers you found.

They were water lilies, its petals so dark as if it was fed with nothing but jet black ink.

As far as your knowledge goes, there is no such thing. You even searched the internet for water lilies growing in the ocean, and water lilies that possessed the color black.

Water lilies don’t belong in the ocean, and there is no such thing as black water lilies. Yet here it is inside a bag. Just looking at it filled your chest with dread and fear, reminding you of what had occurred last night.

After being pulled out of the water, Namjoon questioned you endlessly and you dismissed him quickly. You don’t want to sound crazy in front of your superior, so you simply told him that you lost the suspect around the pier and you fell.

You hid the lily inside your coat pocket. You thought that showing Namjoon would certainly be a bad idea. You would tell him the truth once you figured out what exactly happened and you had to figure it out alone. You just need to figure out something that would make you seem less crazy when you finally decide to tell him.

When you arrived at the station, you knew everyone was informed about what happened and before you knew it all your hard work would be given to someone else.

“Hey.” Namjoon’s soft voice broke you out of your reverie. You didn’t realize you had zoned out, staring thoughtlessly at the board in front of you. You’ve been doing nothing but zone out as soon as you left the Captain’s office.

“They are transferring the case-”

You cut him off with your palm towards him and stared at the ground. You can’t bear to look at Namjoon’s sorry face. He knew how long you have been working on this case, hoping to get a lead on the suspect and when you did you let him out of your sight.

You heard the news loud and clear. The case is out of your hands after your failed attempt of catching the suspect.

What hurts the most was the fact that you worked endlessly for months. You were finally getting more clues and bizarre evidence as to why the killings had happened.

Human sacrifices, you told them but now you know it was more than a sick cult that murdered those three girls and there is more to it than a sick mind that could lead to those deaths.

Something more out of this world and if the sea and the lilies incident isn’t an obvious slap to the face that you’re dealing with something else then you don’t know what is.

“Y/N.”

Namjoon was worried about you. You can tell by the way he had been talking to you and you were thankful for it. Thankful for him.

If it weren’t for his help and support regarding the case, you wouldn’t have reached this far. Though he was opposed to some of your decisions, Namjoon was still supportive but that didn’t mean he would let this die down with an ‘I told you so’.

“It’s okay, Namjoon.” You sighed, “I already got an earful from the captain, I can take it.”

“I’m not here to say I told you so, I’m here to see if you're faring well.”

“I am.” You gave him a tight lipped smile, “Faring well, that is.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and snorted, “Then drink with me and forget about the case.”

You perked up at his offer, not passing up the opportunity to get free food from him. You needed a light distraction from all this.

“Only if we get the fried chicken that I like.”

“Anything for your crushed spirit.” He starts packing up.

You threw a crumpled paper at him, ignoring the sudden pain on your shoulder.

“I’m serious though,” Namjoon says suddenly as soon as you both exit the station, “This case. We need to let it go.”

He looks at you, a pleading look in his eyes that you rarely see. Namjoon wasn’t one to speak about your habit of getting attached to your cases, hell he’d even praise you for it.

Shooting him a confused look, you say, “Why? You think we can’t handle it.”

You bump your shoulder towards him, his lips twitching into a smile before he clears his throat as both of you start walking.

“Y/N. Promise me you won’t go behind our backs to solve this one like you always do.” He sighs, “And yes, I think we can’t handle this one. Let the others risk their lives for once.”

You hated this. You always hated lying to your friend. Especially when his eyes shine with nothing but worry for your life, something you never did yourself.

“I promise.”

Sleep was out of the question.

Just because the case was not your concern anymore doesn’t mean you would let it go that easily. Investigating behind the division’s back was nothing new to you. Hell, you’d solved more cases going rogue than having the permission to do so. You only felt bad because you had lied to Namjoon but even he knows you won’t be able to let this go.

After the bizarre way the suspect had escaped and you ending up in the sea, you became more thirsty for answers now more than ever.

You waited out the rain before grabbing the lilies from the table, along with your car keys and wallet.

The certainty of finding answers was close to impossible. Impossible was what happened to you that day, so you need to start somewhere.

You arrived back at the place where you chased down the mysterious suspect. That was when the nerves decided to kick in. You wanted to go back home as fear settled in your bones. To just turn away and forget what happened. To forget the case like what Namjoon had suggested.

You didn’t know why you were apprehensive now. Why you decided to feel afraid now is annoying the hell out of you. How would you be able to think straight if you were being such a coward?

The loud humming of the car engine died down, leaving you in silence.

“Wait. What the fuck?” You muttered, horrified.

That was the first of many signs that says you had just made yet another dumb decision.

With a twist of your key, you tried turning on your car and you already decided that if it turns on, you would go straight back home. The car made the decision for you when it refused to roar back to life. Maybe it is just old, you told yourself.

Namjoon did say it was a piece of junk but what the hell did he know about cars when he doesn’t even drive. He’s not wrong though, it is quite old.

Yeah, maybe that’s it. This is not some dreadful sign that you were about to die. Your car is just old.

Since your car refused to start, you might as well continue your investigation.

There was something eerie about the way the street lamps illuminate the pavements. The orange light reflects your surroundings giving it a hellish impression. It is quiet, just the sound of the sea in the distance giving you something to hold on to.

At least the area didn't sound as dead as it looked like, you tried to reassure yourself.

You slammed the door shut, loudly, just because you wanted some noise to fill your ears. You hated the silence engulfing you, you hated how it made your heartbeat seem loud in your ears.

You had expected the streets to be empty, it was late into the night and it had just rained but you have never expected it to feel empty. You have been into situations like these and not one of those late night investigations ever felt ominous.

Taking deep breaths, you retrace your steps and begin.

You went back to the place where you were positioned before Namjoon informed you that the suspect was coming your way. Clearly you need to start somewhere.

There was nothing out of place, it looked like the usual back alleyway; narrow and unkempt. The fact that you ran and chased the suspect using this unkempt path was uncanny. Adrenaline makes you blind once you zeroed on your target, too bad the target escaped you.

There was nothing out of the ordinary and that should’ve put you at ease but it didn’t. Normally, you would brush aside the normality of the situation but because of what happened to you everything seemed wrong.

Once you reached the spot where the suspects stood, you now realized that at that moment he was waiting for you to attack him. He stood still and waited for you to tackle him. He had calculated your next move and did something to you.

You approached it slowly, heart thumping loudly. With a quick turn of your head, you noticed a pier. The pier that you used for your excuse on how you ended up on the water.

It was far from where you are now, where you both really confronted each other.

How the hell did he do that?

“What are you?”, you whispered into the air, mortified. It is as if he transported you far away from him and escaped. The sudden sting in your shoulder reminded you that he left without hurting you first.

Just what did he do to you?

You remembered how you examined your shoulder quickly once you got inside a bathroom. There were no marks and it looked normal but it didn’t calm the brewing anxiety inside you.

You spot the pier again as if it was calling out to you. Maybe it did, seeing as you were getting nowhere. Deciding that it would be best to get this over with, the pier being the last destination for tonight, you head towards it next.

The sea welcomed you with it’s salty air; at night it looked like a dark abyss waiting to swallow you whole. The waves and the wind was a comforting sound after being in the quiet street for so long.

The sound of your boots hitting the wooden deck accompanied you towards the end of the pier. You didn’t notice that you stopped feeling afraid all throughout the night once you felt fear again as you reached the end of the pier.

It was as if someone had set their eyes on you and the thought of it made you shiver.

With a quick turn you try to spot if someone was really watching you. It was quite odd that someone was on your tail because you saw not one single soul in the area. That thought alone should’ve made you run or call for help.

You turn your back once again and face the dark sea. Namjoon must’ve thought you were crazy; swimming about and looking confused as hell but all you heard from your friend were concerned words. Namjoon doesn't like prying, he takes what he tells you even if it bothers him internally, and you thanked him for it.

With the thoughts of your fellow detective, you even considered telling him about it just so it could ease his mind but you know deep inside you can’t. Not when you have no idea what was really happening.

You sighed and reached inside your pocket and felt the plastic containing the black water lilies you found floating around you when you were under the water.

It was still there, the proof that you were not hallucinating. All the teleporting into the sea was real. It is what anchors you to the new reality you have seen.

“Black water lilies.”

An unfamiliar voice disturbed the calming sound of the sea.

It was as if a cold knife had stabbed you in the back and it ran it all the way up your spine. You jumped at the voice, turning around quickly at the source.

You were faced with a man, three steps away from you. Maybe having your back at the ocean isn’t such a good idea as soon as you realized that this man can push you anytime.

He was close enough for you to memorize his features, just in case he decided to boot it and he was connected to the suspect after all. Why else would he be here?

He was small in frame, you can tell even from the large, dark coat he was sporting. He had dark hair in contrast to the paleness of his skin. His hands were in his pockets and it terrifies you that he might pull a gun and just shoot you out of nowhere.

His doll-like lips moved once again and you were dumbly just staring at him, not even hearing what he just said. You were awfully distracted by how good he looks which was dumb for you to even consider regarding the situation you were in. You were dumber than you thought you were, how the hell did you graduate from the academy?

His sharp eyes leered at you, obviously annoyed by the lack of response he was getting.

You shook your distracted thoughts away and focused. This man could kill you damn it.

You hid the lilies behind your back as if you were a child who doesn't want to share their goodies.

“Sorry?” You asked him, hoping he’d have the patience for your slow dumb ass.

“I said,” He took a breath and closed his eyes for a bit, “How did you get your hands on that?”

“On what?” Maybe you could play dumb seeing as you were already good at it.

He took a step and you almost took a step back. If it weren’t from the chain link fence stopping you or else you would have taken a dive into the ocean once again.

The hand inside his pocket moved when you did, as if he was reaching out for you. Afraid that you would fall. You were sure he wasn’t concerned for your well being, he just wanted answers. Or maybe he’d just shoot you.

Damn it, you didn't have anything to defend yourself with.

“You’re dumber than you look don’t you.” He looked at you up and down, sizing you up, “Well, I should’ve expected that.”

“Look,” You said, your eyebrow twitching by his choice of words, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He groaned, “The black water lilies you’re hiding. How did you get it? I’m not fucking dumb, I saw you holding it out for everyone to see.”

His deep voice was rising, you expected him to shout at you but he remained calm. You can see from his expression that his patience was wearing thin.

You wanted answers from him as well but he just got the upper hand now. There is no way you could outmatch the intimidating aura that he has plus you were cornered. So you have no choice but to compromise.

You bring the lilies in front of you and you notice him wanting to get closer, wanting to reach for it. You stared at him, watchful of his movements and his reactions. Whoever this man is, he is connected to the suspect, the killings, and to what happened to you.

“I found it here.” With your free hand you pointed at the black abyss that is the ocean.

His face darkened and it worried you what the expression meant. You observed the distance between you two, he was closer than he was earlier. If he is like the suspect as you have concluded then he is someone capable of something dangerous.

He talked about the flowers as if they were a natural thing to exist, like a person pointing out roses rather than non-existent flowers which were now on your grasp.

“Give it to me.”

Okay, now you can’t agree to that. The lilies are the only clue that you have regarding the mysterious suspect and the dark, bizarre killings. There is no way you would just hand it over to someone that might have something to do with all this.

There is a thought in your mind that is trying to argue that your life is worth more than solving this case. Namjoon’s voice echoing inside your head.

You looked down at the black water lilies then back at the stranger. He raised his eyebrows and stretched his arm, palms up as if he’d expect you to hand it over.

“What if I don’t want to?” You challenged him, trying your best to sound brave, “What are you going to do?”

His dark eyes glimmered and your breath stopped short at the action. Eyes just don’t glimmer literally.

His reaching arm retreated, eyebrow raised as if he found your words amusing.

“You don’t want to find out.”

You gulped as he approached you, growing close for comfort. You could almost smell him and you don’t want to admit it but he did smell nice as he looked. Your eyes never strayed away from his sharp ones despite the fear blooming in your chest.

“You’re a stubborn one.” He mumbled, looking straight into you then down at your hands where the plastic bags are held tightly. You can feel the warmth radiating off of him and you sure felt it when he touched your hands.

You didn’t know you were shaking until you felt him try to make you relax. Just what is he doing to you?

You tried to get yourself together but as if you were in a trance, you reached inside the bag and gave him the lilies.

He smirked, “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

Before you could even say something as you felt the spell wear off, you noticed how he quickly glanced behind you, panic quickly replacing the smug look on his face. He said something that sounded like a warning but it was too late.

You felt yourself fall backward and you soon realized the sea had pulled you in once again.

There was a tight grip on your bicep and a flash of light before you closed your eyes and waited for the impact. The difference between the previous fall was the lack of pain on your shoulder and this time you weren’t alone when you hit the water.

You notice there is a lack of black water lilies surrounding you except the one you gave to the stranger.You were about to reach for it but just when you were about to, it had vanished right in front of your eyes and then you felt an arm around your waist and you were being pulled up.

“It’s gone!” You gasped before having a coughing fit, trying to pry away the hands on your waist that are keeping you up.

“We can’t get them back the sea is too dark-”

“No, it disappeared.” You cried, “It vanished right in front of me.”

The stranger who had a tight grip on you gave you an incredulous stare.

“How the fuck can you even see underwater?” He spat, “I didn’t see shit disappearing in front of me.”

You were breathing heavily, “It was the only evidence I have from the psycho maniac who fucking teleported me here!”

You ignored what he was implying, that you were unbelievably crazy for seeing in the dark.

“No it wasn’t. You have me.” The stranger stated calmly after your rant. He was too close, closer than the distance back at the pier when he made you give up the lilies. With that thought, you tried to push him away, afraid of what he can do.

You stared at him bewilderedly, “What the hell do you even mean by that?!”

“Calm down, I'm not like them.” He tried to hold on to you tight enough so that you wouldn’t be able to escape his arms. “Sort of.”

Not like them? Wait, you didn’t even mention anything.

“You’re scared.”

“Of course I am! One minute I’m trying to do my job, trying to catch the suspect and then I’m fucking transported to the sea surrounded by black water lilies which is fucking impossible and now a stranger shows up and -”

“You don’t have to be scared of me, I won’t hurt you.” He cut you off and you were glad by his interruption. One more word and you would’ve burst into tears.

You swallowed the lump that was forming when you were trying your best not to cry. Somehow, deep inside you, you trust him. If he wanted you dead, he would’ve done so once he got what he wanted but instead he tried to save you from falling which resulted into him being thrown into the water with you.

No, no. You still have to be careful.

You remained quiet, still looking at him as he searched your eyes. He seemed to do that a lot so now you were deathly aware and terrified if he could hear your thoughts.

“How do I know if I could trust you?” You mumbled, looking down and away from his eyes. You were still too close to him and you were still floating in the sea near the pier. It might’ve seem stupid that you would consider trusting him but he’s the only one who could answer your questions and that could help you solve this case.

“For starters, I would introduce myself but we’re still floating in the sea and I would very much like to get out.”

Swimming towards the shore had taken most of your energy and you would’ve collapsed against the sand if not for the stranger accompanying you. He still didn’t tell you his name and you didn’t tell him yours. You wanted to know his first and besides, he is the one asking for your trust.

Once you reach the shore, you wring your clothes and hair to at least remove some water off of you. You looked at the stranger and you found him doing the same.

All you could hear between you were your ragged breaths and the waves of the sea meeting the shore. You would kill for a shower and to crawl into bed and forget everything that just happened.

“Yoongi.” The stranger said, exhausted, “My name is Yoongi.”

He wasn’t looking at you as he introduced himself, his eyebrows furrowed. He was too focused on getting the water out of his clothes as hard as he can. Your actions halted as you stared at him. His black hair clung to his forehead like second skin and yet he still looked ethereal as for you, you probably looked like a wet rag. He felt your stare at him as his head shot up to look at you. You looked away quickly, hoping he didn’t notice you studying his features.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the way your face became suddenly warm. “My name is Y/N.”

Since he didn’t give you a last name, you didn’t give him yours and he doesn’t seem like he minded.

Fair enough.

“The black water lilies,” You started but you couldn’t get the words out. Without them in your hands, it seems so bizarre to even talk about.

“You’re wondering how I know about them.”

“Yes and I’m wondering how you seemed so calm when you saw it. That it’s normal for you for such a flower to exist because when I saw them I was-”

You were terrified but he didn’t need to know that.

“You’re right to feel scared. It’s not a good sign to have seen such flowers.”

The feeling of apprehension came back. Just what did he mean by that?

“What the hell are you, Yoongi?”

With your harsh whisper, Yoongi seems to be contemplating his next words. It didn’t make the feeling go away. You were scared to know the truth about Yoongi, about everything despite the thirst for seeking it. You just wanted to solve the case, not to uncover the secret of the fucking universe.

“Someone who is seeking the man who committed such a heinous act. The same man who gave you those black water lilies.

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you? You’re obviously not human, you’re something else.”

If he wanted you to trust him he better tell you the truth right now and you see it in his face. He needs you and in order to have you by his side, he needs you to trust him.

“I’m a witch.”

You released a shaky breath. That made sense in a weird, twisted way.

Somehow, you weren’t shocked about the revelation and you even believed that such an occupation existed. If it weren’t the suspect, probably a witch as well but a more twisted version, along with the black water lilies, you would’ve laughed but you didn’t and once again you wished that weren’t the case.

You wished that the suspect was just some normal serial killer but no, he just had to be something not human.

“I’m guessing the man we’re after is a witch as well.” You said, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. Hearing it come out of your mouth seemed so bizarre.

Yoongi nodded as he stared at your defeated form.

“Does that mean I should let the matters fall into your hands oh great Yoongi?”

It would be nice to forget about all of this. If he suggested that you stay out of it, you would. You welcomed the idea. You don’t want to deal with anything more than what you bargained for. You did go back to the pier to seek answers and well, you got one.

Thanks to Yoongi, now you know it is something you should not meddle with.

“No.” Yoongi deadpanned, staring at you with no humour, “It seemed like humans are now involved in this matter so you should be by my side.”

Your heart dropped.

“You mean I have to help you.”

“If you don’t want more humans to die. Then yes.”

“God, why me?” You whispered but it seemed like the warlock heard it. “What can I even do?”

“Like it or not, it seems like you have gotten yourself involved more than you wanted to.”

“I just wanted to do my job.” You stated as you started walking farther away from the sea, Yoongi following after. You fished for your phone, hoping it was working. You were lucky that you didn’t bring your phone last time, so it was saved from being dunked in the water but your luck had run out and now you have to buy another one.

Yoongi looked at you, amused, obvious from the smile he was showcasing. You raised a questioning brow at him, earning a dry chuckle from the witch.

“I just didn’t expect to be working side by side with a human.”

“Well, I didn’t expect things like witches to exist.”

“You’d be surprised at what you humans don’t know.”

The thought didn’t stir right in your chest. What more could be out there?

You wished you wouldn't have to find out but as you stared at the man walking beside you, both of you soaking wet and cold, you figured you would have to eventually.

Next ->

#kpop scenarios #min yoongi scenario #witch au #bts supernatural au #bts mystery au #bts fic #bts fanfic #suga #suga fanfic #suga scenario #yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic

44 notes · View notes

needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 3 years

Note

yiga foot soldier reader sucking sooga off 👉👈🥺

Sometimes we all get jealous of Kohga, and we want that beefcake to ourselves, I get it. Lets go??

You were struggling. You had just joined the yiga clan, and alongside not being able to use your old name, and the rigorous training, you had an entirely different issue. Your teacher, your guide, your superior, as well as the right hand of the clan- was fucking hot. We're talking big thighs, huge gazangas, absolute PADDYCAKING of an ass hot. Talk of abs so hot you could cook an egg on it, was NOT uncommon amongst your peers. One would think it wasn’t an issue, but it was. Because you didn't have a fleeting crush on him, you didn't just joke about hitting that with your friends.

You genuinely, absolutely, wanted this man. You touched yourself to him, you daydreamed about his touch, everything about your teacher, you wanted. Every touch he gave to correct your frame, was too tempting to you.

"Focus."

You snapped out of your daydream. Unfortunately, too late. You fell off the beam, falling right to the floor, and almost taking a few of your mates with you. The yiga training course was a struggle of itself, doing so while thinking horny thoughts, made it impossible. When he saw that you didn't get up right away, he whistled. Even newbies like you knew the whistle meant to stop. Which was just great, you didn’t feel like getting trampled today. He walked up to you as the hall went silent, kneeling down to you, and holding onto your ankle.

"Hm. You twisted it. You, cover for me, I'm taking this one to the medic."

Another blademaster, previously occupied with snack time, finished his banana, before taking his place.

"You heard him! Till he gets back, I'm in charge! Continue training!"

They all continued, and you couldn't help but feel bad for slowing everything down. You didn't have time to feel bad for long though, as Sooga suddenly swept you up in his arms, bridal style. Woah. Sooga's titties were REALLY huge when you were not even a foot away from them. You felt yourself sink into his arms, damn near swooning. He walked you down the hall to the medics office, about to push the door open, when he saw the sign at the door.

"Ah. Lunch break. For all the medics. How inconvenient. Very well, I shall attend to you until they arrive."

Sooga turned, walking to his quarters. None of your other mates had been in here, because being in certain rooms was NOT allowed for someone so low on the yiga ladder. You wanted to clap as he opened his door, before setting you carefully down onto his bed. You kept your foot up a bit, looking around the room. So neat and organized. Books carefully but away, a nicely kept desk, and the bed was made so neatly, a rupee could bounce off of it. Sooga dug into his dresser, before coming back to kneel in front of you.

"Hold still. I'm going to bandage it, just so it stays still. Let me know if it is too tight."

You stayed still, feeling as his hand carefully bandaged up your foot. He was so...tender, so soft, despite his big size. You struggled for a second, before making yourself speak.

"Hey uhm...I'm sorry I ruined the training. I was just-"

"Daydreaming, I know. I can see it in your face."

"But...the mask?"

"I've been here a long time. I can read expressions and emotions through the wood of the mask. Like me pulling right there, that made this too tight, didn't it?"

You nodded. He loosened the bandages a bit, before continuing. He had such...big hands. Feeling his hands around your leg and ankle-it made your heart flutter.

"So...what emotion am I feeling now?"

"You're nervous. Very nervous. If it's worry over the course, there's no need. You were injured. It happens. Us Yiga take our failures and move forward."

"How can you tell I'm nerv-"

"I can hear it."

Sooga put one of his hands on your chest, firmly. You felt the blood rise to your ears. He was so goddamn big, he could rip your heart right out, and you'd be powerless to stop him.

"Yes, I can feel it too. Boom, boom, boom...like the pounding of a drum. This makes you nervous. I make you nervous, don't I?"

His face leaned a bit into yours, and his grip on your chest tightened. You were sure the people next door could hear your poor little heart.

"You...y-you do."

"Are you scared of me?"

Everyone was, to a degree. He was big, strong, loyal, disciplined, no sane man didn't fear Sooga, at least a little bit.

"K-kinda."

"It's not fear for your safety though, is it? No, that scent is one I can smell a mile away. No...your fear. I know this fear."

He suddenly pushed you onto your back, knocking the wind out of you. You thought you were in some type of danger, before feeling him climb on top of you. He was SO heavy, him just laying on you would keep you in place. He kept you locked in place with his hips, while his free hand cupped your cheek. The feeling of his hand against your chin, it sent shivers down your spine.

"Your fear is lust. That's what it is. You want me. You crave me. You feel my eyes upon you, and it arouses you. You want me to fuck you until my name comes from every breath of yours. Am I in the ballpark?"

You nodded furiously, not even thinking. All your blood was elsewhere, not a thought in your head. He parted your mask just a bit, enough to see your mouth. He pulled down your chin, inspecting your mouth. You kept it open as his thumb pushed against your tongue. He slowly grazed it against you, practically feeling you up. He pulled it away after a moment, inspecting the drool that cascaded down his wrist.

"You have an eager mouth. You're tempting. Eager to please. As a good yiga should be."

He sat up, straddling your hips as he began undoing his belt. You looked up at him, watching as he pulled out his cock. You were NOT ready. He wasn't a Goron, but he was damn tempting. Good girth, and a nice length that ended in an upward curve- it was a cock that BEGGED to be praised. He stroked it in his hand for a moment, and you watched as the skin moved to his touch.

"I want to touch you further. I want this to be inside of you. I want to feel myself pulse inside of you. I want to hear you say it. Tell me you want me, little Yiga."

You looked up his frame. From the top of his head, to his big, tempting cock, he was perfect. You grabbed onto his thighs (god your hands couldn't even wrap around them fully). You nodded, never being more sure of anything in your life.

"I want you. Absolutely-"

He didn't let you finish, before he stuffed his cock right into your mouth. Much like how he teached, he was careful, patient. You felt his head brush against your tongue, grazing your tastebuds with the hot, hard flesh. You heard him sigh loudly in relief, nearly melting on top of you. He pushed himself further and further, nearly stuffing your cheeks upon getting halfway.

"Easy. Relax your pretty throat. That's it. I'm going to be so careful with you. I'm going to make my cock your favorite taste. Oh, you loosened up, just as I said. You're quite good at obeying, aren't you?"

He pushed himself further, further still. Ohe hand against the wall in support, the other holding onto your head. The touch was tender, albiet firm. His hips slowly rolled into your mouth. His cock eased in and out of your mouth, forcing drool to leak out of your mouth and down your chin.

"I'm letting you taste me. I'm letting your little tongue savor me. I'm moving slow, and you're moving against me. You enjoy my taste, and I enjoy your little, drooling mouth."

You didn't realize it until now, but you realized he was right; you were sucking him as much as he was pushing into you. It didn't help that he genuinely tasted good. It didn't help that the precum smeared against your tongue like paint on a canvas. It didn't help that you liked the feeling of his balls against your chin, the way his pubic hair tickled against your own chin. He was 100% man, and you adored it.

"You take things slow, don't you? You enjoy me touching you. You want this to last. Good. I want to remember you long into the night."

You didn't know how long he kept this up. No clue how long he slowly fucked your mouth. You just knew that in no time at all, your mouth was but a toy for him, and you were but a mindless yiga, meant for servitude. Then you heard Sooga swear under his breath.

"I apologize. But I'm done being gentle. You need to be resilient for me now."

You were about to ask what he meant, when he made it pretty damn clear. He was going to fuck your throat. He bucked against you, aggressively yet slowly, the tip constantly hitting your throat and making you gag. You could feel him throbbing. You could feel his tight grip on your head, you could hear him swearing above you. Then, stuffing himself fully inside of your mouth, until his balls nearly suffocated you, he came. You tasted the hot, thick cum as it was pumped into your throat. It slid into your stomach, heating up your entire body as you were forced to swallow. He waited until he stopped cumming, before he let go of your head, pulling away. You panted harshly, feeling your body laced in sweat, and cum dribble down your mouth and neck. He sat there for a moment, watching you and panting, before there was a knock at the door. He got off of you, and cleaned himself up quickly, before opening his door, just a crack.

"Yes?"

"Sooga! I heard someone hurt themselves during our break. I could come in and see them if you-"

"I will take them to you, doctor, thank you."

He shut the door, before turning to you. You coughed a bit as you sat up, trying not to choke on the cum you were forced to swallow.

"How did you...get ready so fast?"

"A Yiga talent. I will be happy to help you practice it later. For now, clean yourself up, and I will take you to the medical bay."

He tossed a towel your way, and as you wiped your face, you screamed into the towel. No one would believe you.

But you just sucked off Sooga. Holy shit.

#asks #lemon #sooga #about time i do some reader stuff smh #hope you enjoy bitch

5 notes · View notes

generalthirst · 4 years

Text

Candid Façade

Warnings: None really. Sexual innuendos/mentions of sex but only briefly hinted, Awkward romantic interactions?

Word Count: 5,200

Summary: Prompt 48 from here and 20 & 30 from here. Hux is romantically stupid but tries to prove to Kylo he’s not. You get to come along for this wild ride.

A/n: My first one shot. Stupid long. Its a one and a half shot. Very self indulgent fluff so if you like that stuff, enjoy! Thanks to @the-tasteful-beast for the prompt suggestions!

“My personal relationships are absolutely none of your business, Ren!” General Hux retorted with a slight snarl. The man behind the mask let out a slight laugh, distorted through the voice modular, Hux could still sense the mocking tone behind it.

“As I figured, the only girl in your bed is Millicent.” Kylo chuckled.

“Again, not your business! Even if it were, I fail to see why you would care so much about it.” Hux whipped around with his back to the infuriating man in black.

“It’s just entertaining to me that a man who thinks he can command armies can’t even acquire a girlfriend.” was the nonchalant retort. Oh that made Hux’s blood boil. He whipped back around as he felt his hackles raise.

“I most certainly am capable of being in a relationship!” He said a bit louder than he’d intended, gaining a few curious looks from lower officers on the bridge.

“I find that difficult to believe Hux.” Kylo sneered. Hux was sure he could see that shit-eating grin through the mask. He knew it was there. Eyes darting around quickly, he landed on you as you stood in front of a console. Thinking you would be yelled into a demotion for staring during the argument, you quickly looked away and prayed for the safety of your job. The General however, marched over to your station, roughly grabbed your wrist and drug you back over before the commander. The Generals arm was draped around you and his hand rested on your hip, pulling your side flush with his.

“As a matter of fact, the Major and I recently started seeing each other. Isn’t that right darling?”

He nearly growled as he glared into your eyes. Your head spun as you looked from Hux to Ren. Realizing what was expected of you, you swallowed a lump in your throat and wrapped your arms around Hux’s middle.

“Yes!” You quickly joined in on the lie. “We had planned to keep it a secret to start with but since we’ve started going steady we figured it was time to make it official.” You added a smile towards the General, putting your best acting skills to the test before the Commander. His unreadable mask was hard to discern. You knew he was able to read minds and you prayed that he wouldn’t subject you to the agonizing mind probe. Ren was silent for a moment, as was the entirety of the bridge.

“I see.” Came the distorted voice, quieter than you’d expected his response to be. “Well I congratulate the both of you. Perhaps we’ll be seeing more of you two together now that you’ve made it official.” He said with heavy emphasis on each word. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew you both were lying. Why he didn’t call you out on it though, you weren’t sure. The fact that he didn’t worried you more.

“I’m sure the Major would agree that public displays of affection are not our style.” General Hux snarled, obviously in on the subtle challenge and trying to ease out of this elaborate lie he’d just thrown you both into.

“Oh, I’m sure no one would say anything now that you both are official.” Ren replied quickly with too much eagerness. His faceless mask turned to you once more and you felt that intense gaze nearly staring into your soul. “I have matters to attend to but I wish you both happiness... together.” Was all he said and you could hear the cruel smile in his voice before he walked off.

You and Hux simultaneously let out a long-held breath at Ren’s leaving and you nervously looked about the bridge to see the rest of the crew looking at the two of you, still in your embrace, with utter shock.

“Back to your post, dear.” Hux sounded strained with the affectionate words as he released you. “I’ll see you later.” All you could do was nod as you walked back to your station, your previous task completely wiped from your mind. What the hell just happened? You could feel everyone’s shocked stares on your back and you tried to ignore them as much as possible until your shift was over.

You desperately hoped the General had a plan for this. You’d followed his lead in the lie but now… You were really in no other position other than to follow through with it. You couldn’t fake a breakup. Not immediately anyway, that would be too obvious. At least for a little while, you had to play the part of the established girlfriend of General Hux. You found the man attractive to be sure, but he was your superior! You weren’t allowed to have romantic thoughts about him! Though you supposed you were now. At least to fake the part. What a mess, you groaned internally as you left the bridge. As you approached your quarters to change out of uniform, your friend came running up the hall towards you.

“When were you planning on telling me you were dating the General?” She screeched and shook you by the shoulders. You quickly clapped a hand over her mouth and dragged her into your quarters and shut the door.

“Not out where everyone can hear you!” You hissed.

“The whole ship knows anyway!” She retorted, just as loud as before. “The news is spreading like wildfire! When were you gonna tell me? I had to find out from Captain Ailow!” She screeched again.

“Look, Taylor…” You groaned. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Oh you’ve caused such a scandal!” She beamed like a schoolgirl with the latest juicy gossip as she sat on your bed. “Everyone is so shocked! Mostly that Hux actually has feelings in general, let alone for someone else, but you? I’d never have guessed it!” She carried on about the various rumors going around about you and the Commander. Your mind, however, was flooded with worry about how big an ordeal this had suddenly become. As much as you loved your friend, you had no choice but to go with the lie, even with her. The General was expecting you to play the part, and you would hate to find out what he would do if you gave away the lie and Ren found out. He’d have your head for sure. At the very least your job.

“So what’s he like? Does he actually kiss you?” Your friend’s bubbling brought you back and you shook your head and moved to your locker.

“He’s uhh… not the most affectionate type.” You said in hopes the vague response would suffice, her questions would be endless if you didn’t put a stop to it.

“I mean yeah he’s the general but come on, you deserve someone who is more in touch with their emotions. And by that, I mean in touch at all!”

“Hey, he has emotions!“ You shocked yourself with how quickly you defended his honor. “He just has trouble showing them is all. He’s very stressed right now you know.” You huffed and began removing your uniform into your regulars.

“Does he like to take his stress out on you?” She asked slyly and you slammed the locker closed with a start.

“I’m going to grab dinner.” You said, avoiding the question entirely as you walked past her. Taylor jumped up to ask you more when a knock sounded on your door. You groaned in worry that some other gossiper had come to interview about the new hot couple. Ready to tell off whoever it was, your words died in your throat when none other than the General himself stood at your door, looking as nervous as a boy on his first date. Your eyes went wide as the two of you simply stared at one another. The spell broke when your friend came up behind you and saluted before grinning wildly.

“Fancy seeing you here, sir.” She said over your shoulder. “The Major and I were just mentioning you.” You paled and sent a foot back to kick her shin.

“Indeed,” Hux replied darkly then turned to you once more. “I didn’t realize your friend was with you.”

“She was just coming to say hello after work.” You hurriedly tried to explain. “Can I help you with something?”

“I was wondering if you would like to meet me in my quarters for dinner this evening. But if you and your friend are busy-”

“Oh no we didn’t have any plans!” Your friend quickly interjected and shoved you out the door as she closed it behind her.

“You two have a nice dinner date! I’ll be meeting up with Sergeant Wyde.” She sent you a wink before hurriedly strolling down the hallway, leaving you with the General. The two of you stood in silence for a moment before he offered you his arm. Oddly gentlemanly of him but something a boyfriend would do you supposed. You hesitantly took it as you walked in silence to his quarters. He led you to the door of his office and once inside, he quickly let go of your arm and all but whirled on you.

“You told her?” He said accusingly.

“I swear I didn’t breathe a word!” You cried out quickly. “She was asking a bunch of questions but I kept it as vague as I could! I promise I didn’t tell her!” You pleaded that he would believe you. Hux sighed and pressed his thumb and fingers on either temple, holding his head in his hand before groaning in agitation.

“You lied for me in front of Ren, I guess I have no reason to believe you wouldn’t lie on my behalf to anyone else. And it better stay that way!” He added as a warning before taking off his greatcoat and draping it over a chair.

“You’re welcome for that, by the way.” You shot with irritation at his ingratitude. He looked up as if he wanted to reprimand you for your attitude but thought against it.

“Yes. Thank you.” He added softly and didn’t meet your eyes. “I’m sure I don't have to tell you that you need to stay quiet on this. At least until I figure out a way to get us out of this ordeal.” He pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it, taking a heavy drag.

“We’ll have to let the news lose its shock, then we’ll figure out a way to say we separated or some other such nonsense.”

“With all due respect sir, are you sure we will get away with this?” You asked. His questioning gaze forced you to explain.

“We have to make a believable couple. Sure for now saying we’re together will suffice, but people need to see us doing couple-y things. Dates. Otherwise, they’ll begin to suspect and surely Commander Ren will as well. I'm surprised he bought it to begin with.”

“He didn’t.” Hux corrected as he twirled his cigarette between his fingers. “He’s playing us, wants to see how far we’ll take the lie.”

“Then we’ll really have to sell this.” You interjected with a sigh. ‘I don’t know why I had to get dragged into this.”

“I picked you because you were within close reach.” He sneered and you shot him a glare.

“Look I’m not happy about this either but you brought me into this, the least you could do is be a bit nice!” He seemed shocked at your mouthy remark for a moment before collecting himself.

“I am your superior!”

“Well, sweetie,” you said, the name dripping with venom. “Couples usually disregard formalities, so in order to sell this whole ordeal YOU created, we have to act like we see each other as equals.” He looked like he wanted to fight you on the subject but knew you were right and angrily conceded.

“Don’t expect to get some kind of edge on me with this, I won't give you any special treatment outside of convincing people we are an item.”

“I wanted no part of this to start with!” You interjected. “If you just make this go away and let me get back to how my life was before you decided to make me your girlfriend I’ll be happy!” You glared at one another in silence before he stood and called for a protocol droid. The droid brought out two plates of food and sat them on the desk before bowing out of the room. The general immediately began to eat before looking up at you as you awkwardly looked around, wondering what to do. He nearly rolled his eyes and motioned for you to pull up a chair and take your plate. You quietly thanked him as you pulled the chair forward. Dining with the General felt surreal, but less like a fairytale than you would have imagined. You could feel him judging your every move through the corners of his eyes as he ate. You tried to have good manners, not wanting to seem crude in front of him. You were slightly shocked he actually did mean to have dinner with him but you figured if he sent you to the cantina after everyone thought you were having a dinner date, that might look suspicious.

When you both had finished, you stood silently. Hux watched in mild curiosity as you moved the chair back into its place, ensuring it was properly aligned where it once stood before taking your empty plate in hand.

“Thank you for the dinner, sir.” You said before turning to leave. Hux stopped you and you turned with a raised brow. He seemed slightly unsure as to what to say before gesturing to the plate.

“You can leave that here, I’ll have the droid take care of it.” You simply nodded and returned the plate to its place on the desk before bidding the General good night and returning to your quarters for some well-deserved rest.

Once in your bunk, you collapsed. Mentally too tired to even bother with reading something. Your brain was going 100 miles an hour and all you wanted was for it to slow down. Sleep was difficult as you relived the events of the day but eventually, mental exhaustion took over.

The next day you returned to your position on the bridge, a few stares here and there sent your way by your coworkers, but all knew better than to gossip in front of you. You tried your best to focus and just do your job, make it just a normal day. Commander Ren came by and stood beside Hux, too far away to really hear the conversation but you saw the occasional glances your way. As with most of their conversations, Hux stormed away, red in the face with anger over whatever button Kylo had managed to push. To your surprise, he walked right up behind you and put his hands on either side of your waist. Leaning over your shoulder you felt his breaths puff over the exposed skin on your neck and it raised goosebumps along your body.

“Might I interest my girlfriend in meeting me for lunch on her break?” He ground out, sending a sideways glare in Kylo’s direction, the man clearly watching with interest.

“Ah, of course.” You replied, forcing a smile so that it would appear you thought the idea romantic. To be fair if it were real you probably would find it as such, but you both knew this was all for show. Best to not let romantic fantasies cloud judgment. Hux grinned like he’d won a match and hummed in approval before letting you go and returning to his command. You however tried to control your breathing and slow your heart rate down.

And so the façade went for a few days. You couldn’t spend time together outside work hours every day, but it was frequent enough that you both seemed to be making an effort to see each other. No one really approached you on the subject and you were thankful for it. People were probably too scared to try given the General’s reputation. It was odd though; for a man who often appeared so cold, he faked being in a relationship fairly well. You wondered if he really did have experience in this field after all.

Your good luck wasn’t meant to last when you hadn’t been invited to dine with Hux and went to the cantina with Taylor instead. You hadn’t seen her much since the whole thing started and while you normally enjoyed her company, you knew the topic she’d want to discuss.

“So,” she began in a playful tone and you knew you were right. “Someone’s been visiting the General an awful lot.” You merely hummed dismissively as you ate. “In his private quarters.” She stressed more.

“Don’t start rumors Taylor,” you warned. “It's been his office and we’ve only been eating dinner or lunch. That’s it.” Boy, you hoped she hadn’t been talking about this with other people.

“Aw c’mon!” She teased hoping to get some sexy truth from you and you merely sent her a bored expression. “Wait you’re serious? You haven’t…?”

“No. We have not.” You said curtly.

“What? Have you done anything?” She seemed genuinely shocked you hadn’t bedded the General yet.

“Have you two ever even kissed?” You looked away and bit your lip subconsciously.

“We just… haven’t really worked up to that yet.”

“Oh for goodness sake!” She cried out in exasperation. “No one has seen you all doing anything cute yet, you two are the most boring couple ever! It’s like you guys aren’t even really dating!” You nearly choked on your drink when she said that. You thought you’d been disguising things well! Were you both still so painfully distant and awkward with each other?

“Y-you really think so?” You asked trying to dig for more information.

“I mean I understand you both have the romantic passion of a lethargic bantha but I saw more exciting relationships in the academy.” She said jokingly and rambled off about some other things. Frankly, you had begun to zone out. You would have to work harder to sell this lie.

After you’d finished with Taylor you found yourself standing outside Hux’s office, knocking frantically despite yourself. An annoyed voice beckoned you inside and you eagerly rushed in. Hux looked up from his work with a surprised face upon seeing it was you.

“Can I help you?”

“We’re not selling it.” You cut him off. His annoyed expression turned to confusion once more.

“We’re not?”

“No! My friend has just told me people think we look awkward together! They never see us doing anything romantic together.”

“Of course we do!” He said dismissively. “We’ve been dining together nearly every day!”

“No no no. I mean like… holding hands and sneaking kisses in the maintenance closets kind of stuff. Like the junior officers do.”

“The junior officers are doing what now on my ship?” He began as if he’d never known this fact.

“Hux!” You shouted, jolting him from that thought. “That's not important right now! We have to start looking like a couple in love!” You pressed. He seemed to be lost in deep thought and you looked on worriedly as he retreated into his mind.

“How exactly?” He said trying to hide how sheepishly it came out. Your mouth hung open.

“You mean to tell me you don’t know how to date and kiss and stuff?” You cried out dumbfounded.

“It was never a priority for me!” He quipped, his ears beginning to turn red. “Can you just… tell me what I need to do, alright?” He ordered.

“Alright alright.” You said calming yourself. You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry. Or both.

“I guess we should start with physical touch. Couples are physically close and we need to not be uncomfortable being with each other.” You said looking at him. The General merely looked back. “We come on, stand!”

“Now?” he asked like you'd told him to go hug Ren.

“Well, we gotta practice don’t we? Come on come here.” you motioned for him to come to stand in front of you. He did so with a disbelieving look. “See is that so bad?” You knew it was bad to tease him, but you couldn’t pass it up, holding hands with the General being shy about it was kind of adorable.

“Now what?” He asked and you took his hand in yours. His gloved fingers flinched slightly as he instinctively moved to jerk his hand from your grasp, but your gentle touch calmed him and his hand laid loosely in yours. Grabbing him by the wrist you began removing the glove and he pulled his hand away.

“What are you doing?”

“You can’t hold hands with gloves on all the time! We have to touch!” You tried to explain as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m not filthy, I bathe and wash my hands regularly…” You ground out. He simply frowned at you before removing the gloves himself and setting them on the table. You reached your hands out before him, palms up, waiting patiently. He stared at them before hesitantly laying both his hands atop yours. He seemed uncomfortable at first but as you gently wrapped your fingers around them and brushed the backs of his hands with your thumbs, he seemed to enjoy it more. You grinned some as you gently swung hands with him.

“Childish.” Was his only reply as his face soured again.

“What next?” He asked, eagerly wanting to move on. You thought for a moment before pulling yourself forward and making him wrap his arms around you as your body collided with his. He seemed to recoil as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You could feel through the hug that he was completely tense.

“Hux, you have to hug me back.” You mumbled into his chest. He merely cleared his throat awkwardly before he gently rested his arms on your body and patted your shoulder.

“That’s a pathetic attempt General Hugs.” You smirked as you looked up at his face mere inches from your own.

“Look this isn’t something I've had much experience in, I cannot be expected to know!” He huffed defensively and turned his head slightly as his cheeks turned pinkish. You shook your head and squeezed him slightly.

“It’s a hug... It’s not that hard.” You said poking him playfully in the side. A strange noise escaped him and he immediately leaned away from your jab and he glared down at you. Your surprised face turned into a knowing smirk and his immediate worry at your change of expression was the only warning he got before you lunged for his side. Hux burst out in uncontrollable laughter, desperately attempting to command you to cease your attack through the giggles and trying to force your hands away. Finally, he managed to grab both your hands in a tight hold and force them away from himself.

“No! Don’t tickle me!” he practically shouted as he attempted to rein in the giggles with deep panting. You merely grinned at your newfound power. “If you don’t try to work with me here, I’ll do it again.”

“Don’t you dare!” He warned darkly. You merely wiggled the fingers of your captive hands and he sighed. “Fine, I will try! Just don't do that again!”

“No promises.” You hummed before opening your arms wide in an invitation for a hug.

“Come on. Hug me! Properly!” You cooed and he groaned before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you. It was still stiff and uncomfortable, but you could feel he was actually trying. You slid your hands around him and held him tightly. Trying to demonstrate what to do, slowly he began to mirror your movements somewhat. Your hand traveled up around his neck and you pulled him closer. His face now nuzzled into your neck. He seemed unsure of what to do but began to melt into the touch. As you both stood in silence you could feel him returning the emotion of the embrace. His hands clutched your shirt a little more, pulling you close as you felt his breaths on your neck once again. The goosebumps returned as you realized you were enjoying hugging the General, and he seemed to be enjoying it as well. Your heart fluttered a bit at that but you focused on the task at hand. Gently you pulled away a bit and he did the same, his hands still holding onto your shoulder as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“And now?” He asked, his voice softer than before. You bit your lip gently. It felt odd to be doing this, but it was something that had to be done. Tentatively you reached a hand up to caress his sharp jawline. Your thumb ever so gently brushing over his lips before closing your eyes and pressing your lips to his. You felt a small jolt run through the both of you at the kiss. You pulled him into the kiss a little as encouragement, adding some passion into it. With a small chuckle, you pulled back and saw the stupefied look on his face.

“Hux you have to kiss me back, keeping your face still is like kissing a statue.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t waste my time having romantic flings with my fellow students when I was supposed to be studying!” He tried to jab at you but the avoiding gaze and creeping blush told you all you needed to know.

“I told you I am not skilled in these activities!” He whined with a frown.

“Surely you had to have had some teenage romance! Some girl in the academy who kissed you before running back to her dorms?” You said with amused exasperation.

“It’s ok Hux, you can be jealous that I’ve kissed more people than you.” You giggled.

“Jealous? I'm not jealous!” He tried to defend himself but you knew better.

“Right…” Was all you said before taking planting your palms on both his cheeks. You could feel how warm they became under your touch. “You have to start delicately.” You instructed as you pressed your lips together once more. Being gentle in your movements against his lips. Once he started to mimic your motions you pulled back.

“Then you can start to do more.” You began leaning in again. “And don’t keep your eyes open during a kiss, it's creepy.”

“I’m not keeping my-” Hux was cut off by your lips moving against his own once again. A step up from the gentle kiss from before. He followed your lead quickly. He was clearly inexperienced but a faster learner than you’d have given him credit for. Your tongue swiped over his bottom lip and he startled for a moment but you kept him in place. Experimentally he opened his mouth and your tongue slipped inside, keeping it slow so he could get used to what you were doing. He tasted faintly of whiskey and cigarettes, and a flavor that was very… Hux. It was intoxicating for you. The kiss lesson could have ended long ago but you both couldn’t find it within you to stop.

Air finally made the decision for you and you both pulled back with soft gasps. Your hands laid on his chest and you could feel his heaving breaths taking in gulps of air and his heart rate was just as elevated as yours. You smiled and looked back up at him in a moment of sheepishness at the dawning realization that you’d made out with your superior.

“Well, I think you’ve got the gist.” You said as you both separated and stood in front of each other awkwardly. He hesitantly released you but did not step away, merely gazing down at you with an unreadable expression.

“Yes I… I think so. We should… try to incorporate some of this stuff in our meetings.” He said matter-of-factly. You only nodded as you made to leave. In a moment of boldness, you came back to him and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth before bidding him a good day.

The next few weeks seemed to go by better. You both tried not to be overly affectionate with each other. That would simply be out of character for both of you. But the occasional loving peck on the lips you exchanged as you passed one another seemed to really convince everyone of the relationship. Your friend still asked questions but it became much easier to reply. Being with the General had really become second nature to you. One particular conversation with Taylor had you realizing, without meaning to, you had really fallen for the General. Playing as though you were in love became easier when it was real.

But it broke your heart to realize that it was only a matter of time before the dream had to end. Sleepless nights thinking about what to do followed. Every fake kiss left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, desperately wishing it was real. But no. You would have to fake the breakup soon enough and the General would likely never speak to you again. Hux had become something of a friend over this time. He’d begun to open up to you even behind closed doors. It kept that pitiful spark of hope alive in your heart against your better judgment.

One day you happened upon Hux and Ren arguing in an empty hallway. You debated on turning around and pretending you never saw a thing when Kylo called out to you.

“You both can stop pretending now. It was funny at first but I see you both are too damn stubborn to give up.” He sneered and Hux glared angrily.

“There’s no pretending about it, Ren.” The taller male turned to glare back.

“You and I both know she meant nothing to you when you first concocted this lie!” You went to open your mouth in Hux’s defense but he spoke before you had a chance.

“Perhaps, but things have changed. It was a game to you before but I’m asking you politely now to leave it alone.” Hux said threateningly. Both you and Kylo expressed mild shock at the confession. He looked between you and Hux, huffing irritably before wordlessly storming off. Hux turned to you with a nervous look, his eyes deep in thought and unwilling to meet yours.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this elaborate lie. I never expected it to go on for so long. Or…” He hesitated, unsure of what to say or how to say it. You smiled warmly as you took his hand in your own.

“It stopped being a façade for me a long time ago.” You said with your heart beaming. “It doesn’t have to be fake anymore.” For the first time in a long time, you saw a genuine smile spread over the man's face as he pulled you into a crushing embrace and shocked you with the most searing kiss he'd ever initiated. Neither of you even noticed the gawking storm troopers who silently turned back down the hallway.

#General Hux #One and a half shots #Star Wars #fanfiction #one shot #Hux x reader #reader insert #my writing #fluff #thirsty drivel

101 notes · View notes

ad1thi · 4 years

Text

and then there’s you | Au-gust Day 8: Superheroes/Superpowers AU

AU-gust masterlist

i took a brief hiatus but now im back!! this is possibly one of my favourite things ive written, ever

Steve was never expecting to get along with James. He didn't have the best start with Tony - even though he likes to believe that they've moved past that and have become good friends - and James' protective streak was well known. After all, the man broke records trying to fly back to New York fast enough and managed to show up just as the Hulk picked up Tony from the sky.

He still remembers the way James landed around them with a thud, his faceplate snapping up and shoving all of them to the side so that he could get to Tony. He remembers the way Tony's face softened; the way James reached out with one metal encased hand to awkwardly rub his hair before settling on his shoulder.

He remembers fiercely missing the time in his life when someone looked at him like that, like he was the reason the world continued turning.

In retrospect, Steve honestly should've seen this whole thing coming, but he's still blindsided by the whole thing.

After the last of the Chitauri are felled down, Thor and James raging in the sky until they drop like flies, they regroup back at Stark Tower. It's almost too easy, over in a matter of hours, even though Steve feels like it's taken ages. They lock the Spectre away and clasp chains around Loki's body - and he can release a breath that he didn't know he was holding it.

"Colonel Rhodes," he says, later, when they're all lounging in a beatdown shawarma joint, shamelessly taking advantage of an extremely grateful store-owner, “I just wanted to say thank you for all your help. Having two heavy hitters in the sky really helped us take down the stragglers. We couldn't have done it without you."

James and Tony (from where he's resting on James' shoulder) both turn to him and give him identical looks, the kind that makes Steve want to duck his head and rub the back of his neck.

"No need to thank me Cap," James says finally, "Just doing my civic duty." But he keeps looking at Steve, in a way that stirs feelings inside Steve that he thought had died when he went into the ice.

Guess not.

He nods once and is saved from answering by Tony grabbing the Colonel into another discussion. He takes another bite into his wrap, the food feeling wooden inside his mouth. Tony has one hand in the air, gesticulating wildly, but the other is wound around James, inter-twined with his own. It twists something inside Steve, and he tries to tell himself that it's just him missing his life before the ice. Before he was dropped into the twenty first century.

He looks up to see Thor giving him an all too knowing look for a man who only met him a couple of hours ago. It makes him so uncomfortable that he stands abruptly, pulling both Tony and Rhodey out of their conversation.

"I have to go," he says stiffly, "I have some work to attend to. I'll see you guys at the Helicarrier tomorrow at 0900 for a debrief," he nods at his team, "Colonel, it would good to meet you."

"Call me James," he says, nonplussed, "that’s what everyone who isn't this fella calls me," he thumbs at Tony; who's face twists in mock outrage.

Steve doesn't say anything, spinning on his heel and all but running out of the shawarma joint, lest he dwell too strongly on the fact that James called Tony fella.

Despite their horrendous first meeting, Steve and James actually get on fairly well. He's in New York a lot, despite still being on active duty. Ostensibly, it's because the War Machine - now rebranded as Iron Patriot armour needs regular check-ups and after what Tony and James mysteriously refer to as the Hammer incident - Tony is the only one who fiddles with it.

It makes sense, since Tony designed the damn thing, but Steve knows that James is a genius of his own right. Privately, he thinks that James is equipped to deal with any and all faults in the armour, but he makes it a point to come for Tony. Watching your bestfriend strap a nuke to his back and fly into space with no concrete desire to return tends to do that to someone. Hell, if Bucky had pulled something like that he wouldn't have left him out of his sight.

Besides, now that Steve has been living with him and gotten to know the man behind the mask so to speak, he can see why Tony inspires that kind of loyalty. The way he badly misjudged Tony still digs at him, even though Tony has waved off his apologies multiple times and promises that he harbours no bad feelings.

Steve isn't complaining though. He likes that James visits, even though he frowns everytime James complains about how hard it was to finagle time with his superiors. Clint calls it his Captain America face, says that he makes it every time he thinks there's a fight. Steve doesn't know if he has a specific face, but he does know that it doesn't sit right with him that James has to fight that much to come stateside.

That was the whole point of the War, that they would fight so that future generations don't have to. There's a lot to be said for the twenty first century. His country's proclivity with inserting themselves into every war that side of the Atlantic isn't one of them.

Still, James' regular check-ups mean that Steve has gotten a chance to get to know Tony's bestfriend - since he winds up spending a lot of time in the workshop these days; sketching while Tony putters around. It's like white noise - the sound of a wrench or a blowtorch, interspersed with Tony and JARVIS sniping with each other, and it reminds Steve of the barracks, of the Howlies huddled around a single fire and sniping around each other.

(It reminds him that he's no longer alone)

When James comes however, the entire workshop lights up, and Steve along with it. Despite his best efforts, the smidgen of interest he'd felt in the shawarma joint has buried itself inside him, planted seeds and grown around his heart. It doesn't help that James is one of the most easy-going people he's ever met, the kind of person one gravitates to.

He reminds Steve deeply of Bucky, but then again - Steve was never overcome with the urge to bear Bucky down and kiss him until they both couldn't breathe.

"Steve!" James cries out, as the workshop doors open with the faintest snick, "It's good to see you."

Steve looks up from his sketchbook - where he's been drawing James funnily enough - and gives him a warm smile, "James. Good to see you. How's the Iron Patriot?"

"Don't call it that," Tony wags his wrench at Steve, looking like he's contemplating the merits of lobbing it at him, "You do not call it that in my workshop. This is a sacred space."

"She's handling like a dream," James says over Tony, but he still walks over and pulls Tony in for a small hug before making his way over to Steve. The first time this had happened, Steve was almost jealous, but he's since realised that it's just a part of James' schedule. The need to physically remind himself that Tony is okay.

"There's been a couple of tough missions," he continues with a grimace, after he's done surreptitiously looking Tony over and found his way to the couch where Steve is currently propped up. "I've definitely got some fresh bullet dents. But nothing Tony can't fix, isn't that right Tony?" he calls out to where Tony has turned back to his holo-screens and gets a half-hearted gesture in response that Steve takes to mean that Tony has heard James.

"Enough about me though, not in the least because I could be arrested for going into detail," James reaches out and places his hand over Steve's; and it takes everything in Steve to not react to the touch, "You getting through the list okay?"

A month into his stay at the Tower, Steve was listlessly chewing a banana in the Common Room when James came out for some water and saw him. "They taste weird," he'd said, when James asked if the banana had done something to offend him, "I guess I was just hoping it was something that hadn't changed."

James had regarded him for a second, and then pulled out a napkin from thin air, "You should make a list. It's what I tell most of my rookies, when they're going back after a long tour. Make a list of everything you want to catch up and work through it on your own pace. At the very least, it gives you something to do."

Ever since then, Steve keeps a small black book on his person, filling it with a never-ending list of things. The entire team pitches in, depending on what it is that Steve is about to discover about the twenty-first century. Steve likes it best when James carves out time for him though.

"I'm adding more things than I'm crossing out," Steve admits, and James clucks sympathetically, "but it's good. I've not Star Wars on my list next? And Tony made me promise to wait for you to come back so that both of you could introduce it to me together."

James whistles lowly, but his eyes light up, "Oh I am so happy that you waited for me for this. Never listen to Tony, he thinks the prequels deserve rights," he bends down to whisper at Steve loudly, "we don't recognise the prequels."

"Is that prequels slander I hear in my safe haven?" Tony pipes up, spinning around to face them. He's still got the wrench in his hand, "Don't make me revoke your access honeybear because I will, don't test me."

James holds up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm going to go freshen up," he says with a clap, "but after I'm back, we can discuss Star Wars strategy."

Steve watches him go, until he disappears around the corner. When he looks back at the workshop, he sees Tony looking at him with a look that's half speculative, half sympathetic.

"You know that nothing can happen right?" he says apropos of nothing, but Steve knows exactly what he's talking about, "It's against the law. DADT. If his superiors find out, his career is over. 's why me and him ended in the first place."

Steve found out about Tony and James' history only a month ago, and the sting has faded. Mostly because he knows it was a long time ago, and neither of them harbour those feelings anymore.

"I know," Steve says carefully, because Tony is still James' bestfriend, "and I wouldn't ask him to risk that. Doesn't change how I feel though. And if I have to wait, or hide it, or even ignore it until he's ready to deal with it - I'm ready for all of it."

Tony nods, like it's the answer he's expected, "You'll be good for him Steve. He deserves someone who'll wait." Unlike me, who didn't goes unsaid.

"I don't expect anything from him Tony," Steve says, looking Tony right in the eye, "but I can't just pretend I don't feel the way I do. Especially not if there's the barest possibility that he feels the same."

Steve isn't generally good with these sorts of things, recognising interest. Still, he doesn't think he's imagined the looks he's gotten from James the past couple of times he's been over, over misread the touching, the talking, the borderline flirting.

"He does," Tony confirms, "but like I said - nothing can happen." He says in a careful tone, and it takes Steve a couple seconds to cotton onto what Tony is implying. It leaves a rush through him, reminding him of back-alley trysts, protected by the shadows.

"Nothing can happen," Steve repeats, and Tony pointedly turns his back as Steve leaps up from the couch and follows James out. He thinks about calling ahead, or maybe messaging - but there's a decent chance that James already knows about this conversation, since Tony wouldn't have brought it up unless James had expressly allowed him too.

Steve might not know much about the twenty first century, but bro-code well enough.

He knocks on James' door, thrumming with energy, and his heart stutters when James opens it in a towel; one around his waist, catching the droplets of water falling down his chest, and another around his neck.

"Steve?" he asks, and there's no mistaking the hopeful tone in his voice. It confirms Steve's suspicions, that Tony was talking to him on behalf of James.

Steve doesn't reply, just pulls him for a kiss.

Fin

#my writing #steverhodey #warshield #steve rogers/james rhodes #steve x rhodey #steve rogers x james rhodes #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #Superheroes/Superpowers AU #post Avengers (2012)#past rhodeytony #pre slash #mutual pining #first kiss #dadt #secret relationship #pov steve rogers

49 notes · View notes

midnight-strays · 5 years

Text

His Fault (Part Two)

Knee; meet stomach. Fist; meet jaw. Do try to get along. You could feel bile rising up in your throat, but not wanting to lose what you had eaten, you swallowed, leaving a burning sensation in the back of your throat and a bad taste in your mouth that was quickly overtaken by the taste of blood. “You fucked everything up again. That’s all you ever do these days,” the man standing over you sneered, kicking your arms out from under you so your upper body would drop to the ground without the support. Just managing to save your face from the concrete by landing on your elbow, your glared up at him. “If I hadn’t done it, everyone would have died. Yourself included,” you explained yourself, spitting blood onto the floor, getting a little onto his shoe. Growling, you were suddenly sent backwards by a powerful kick to the face. It was a miracle that nothing was broken. “Now listen here you little bitch. I call the shots around here and you will fucking respect me. It is your fault the mission failed, your fault that you’re beaten on the ground now so shut up and take it.”

You stared down at the ground, jaw aching terribly and bound to be bruising already. ‘Your fault’. It wasn’t your fault. You heard the door open and from the corner of your eyes, you saw a familiar pair of boots. Chuuya. ‘Your fault’. No- he left you. You didn’t tell him to leave, you didn’t hint for him to leave. He just left. Chuuya stood there quietly, watching on in silence to see what you would do. He needed to speak to you, but he was not to interfere with these beatings. Mori forbade it. ‘Your fault’. It wasn’t your fault Chuuya wasn’t allowed to help you. It was his fault. ‘Your fault’. You lifted your head, finally looking up at the ginger man who stood about five meters away from you and his eyes held a simple question. ‘What are you going to do about it?’

“I fucking hate him! Why did he have to come here?! Why can’t he just kill himself already?” You cried out, pulling at your hair while Chuuya adjusted his hat on his head, then brushing off any dirt on his jacket from when he dropped it on the ground. By now, Dazai was definitely long gone, getting the information he needed. “I don’t want to suffer anymore Chuuya. He’s ruined my life. I was fucking happy and he had to go and fuck everything up!” You sobbed, wiping your eyes desperately to rid of your tears. Stepping up to you, Chuuya gave his jacket one last shake before setting it over your shoulders. “He’s here because he can be. You suffer because you allow it. So, what are you going to do about it?”

What were you going to do about it? This couldn’t continue on like this. If it continued, it would only end in two similar ways. They’d kill you or you’d kill yourself. You weren’t going to allow this to continue. You couldn’t allow this to continue. Your thoughts were cut off as a boot jabbed into your stomach out of the blue. You tried to suck in a breath out of surprise- you had really been that lost in thought- only to choke and for your lunch to finally come up and spill onto the floor. Not as much as you had thought though. You managed to keep the rest down but trembled pathetically all the same.

You glance back up at Chuuya who had taken a step back and held a grimace on his face. You could practically read his mind. ‘Ew’. Yeah, you felt that way too. You were pretty sure your throat was slowly decaying thanks to how often you threw up these days. Maybe you should just stop eating? No… No! No, this wasn’t going to continue, remember? You were going to make it all stop. “Get up.” It would all be over soon. You were strong. You would make your status known again. You would return to your rightful place on the Port Mafia food chain. “I said get up!”

Swallowing, you slowly pushed yourself up, earning pathetic ‘praise’ for doing so. You brought your hand up, using the back of your hand to wipe away the spit, blood and vomit on your lips before turning around to face those beating you. You watched as they looked you up and down, struggling to stand up straight, looking weaker than ever and unaware- oh so unaware- of what was running through your head. “You fucked up the mission. Anything you want to say about that now bitch?”

You swallowed again and forced yourself to straighten up. Your back cracked, both painfully and satisfyingly as you stood up straight and without warning, a smirk grew on your face. Not a playful smirk, a dangerous one. A warning. Chuuya, who had moved to watch from a better angle, saw this smirk of yours, and for the first time in four years, he felt hope for you swell in his heart. ‘That’s it. Just like that,’ he thought to himself, leaning against the wall with a smirk of his own. This was going to be good. This was going to be oh so entertaining, watching you put these bastards back in their place and take on your title again. Port Mafia Executive (Y/N) (L/N). Mori never took that title from you, you disowned it. You refused to hold it while you were being beaten like this. You were being beaten because you fell into despair. You fell into despair because of him and now you were going to take back what was yours. Your title, your strength, your pride. It would all come back today.

“Get on your knees,” you finally spoke, smirk growing as you saw their eyes widen a little in surprise as your instruction. As if they were about to obey you. You were a traitor. A weak link. Oh, but you hadn’t betrayed them. No one had been betrayed worse than you. “Get on your fucking knees,” you repeated, but still, they failed to listen to you. Oh well, their loss. You rose your shaky hands, pinching your gloves at the fingertips and pulling them off, chucking them to the side. With every move you made, no matter how slow or how shaky, it sent a shiver up Chuuya’s spine. This is why he wanted you. This is why Dazai should have never gotten you and why you should have chosen him instead. You were fierce, a force to be reckoned with. And if you were the type to lose control, you could very well break every bone in their bodies. Luckily, despite your shattered mental state, he didn’t have to worry about you going over bored. You were weak from the beatings. You wouldn’t have the strength to go that far. Just far enough to put them in their places. He hoped.

“I… am your superior. I am the one in charge. I’m the one who makes all the calls here and I’m the one who told you to get on your fucking knees!” Your voice steadily rose and as you spoke, you stepped closer to the towering men. They weren’t afraid, but they were stunned. They were trying to process what was happening. Everyone knew who you were, what you were capable of, but it seemed people had forgotten while you were in your sad pit of grief. With your subordinates not moving to protect themselves or hurt you, you reeled your arm back, clenched your fist and even without using your ability, Black Mirror, you sent the man before you stumbling back with a powerful punch to the jaw. Your ability would have been useless here, it needed to be activated during the beatings to fully counter them with your own hit later. It didn’t matter anyway. You just needed your own raw strength to do this. You wouldn’t do it any other way.

Chuuya watched on as you beat the three men into submission. He watched as you stumbled from aching legs but made others fall onto their arses from the sheer strength of your hits. After the mackerel left, you never stopped training. You trained harder. You trained harder but never seemed to grow stronger because you were allowing yourself to be punished for something that wasn’t your fault. He watched as you kicked a subordinate across the room, a sickening crack bouncing off the walls after your boot made contact with his jaw. No one got back up. They all sat or laid there, beaten worse than you were. A clear message to everyone else. You were not to be fucked with any longer.

“Get on your knees,” you ordered one last time, lowly this time, watching as all three, slowly moved to kneel before you, giving in. You had won. You were an executive. You weren’t going to take their shit anymore. If they wanted to live, they had to listen. They had to obey. “Good boys,” you praised, leaning down to pick your gloves back up before looking over to your dear friend who started to slowly clap his hands. “I was wondering when you were finally going to do that. Good thing I came to speak to you today then,” he claimed with a grin, that raspy voice of his beckoning you closer as you pulled your gloves on over your bruised knuckles.

“Yeah, well, whatever you need to tell me, it can be done over dinner. Your treat. I’m freakin starving,” you claimed, rubbing your aching shoulder. Damn you were sore. From both beatings. You looked forward to that ever lasting ache in your ribs to finally fade away, for the taste of bile to not reach your tongue until it was justified. You looked forward to the expression on your boss’ face when you walked into his office next, wearing both your pride and title. Chuuya let out a laugh, straightening his hat and nodding his head in agreement.

“I’ve been trying to take you out for dinner for years. I don’t think that’d be a problem.”

#chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #his fault #his fault part two #dazai #chuuya #osamu dazai #chuuya nakahara #bsd #bungou stray dogs #scenario #bsd x reader #reader is strong #reader doesn’t need a man

234 notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 5 years

Text

Title: How Do You Like It? {Headcanon/One-Shot}*

Chris Evans

Warning: Cursing, Lewd Topic, Conversation NSFW, Lewd Humor

Words: 2.2k

Note: Okay, so yet again I came up with something just by looking at these two gifs/images of Chris. Yet again, I have NO IDEA what this is, where this came from or what’s wrong with me. Rock with me though. Thank you for reading.

***Not Edited/Proofread**

~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d done a lot of interviews in his career. So many they all blended together. They asked the same questions, insinuated to the same things, told the same jokes. He could go through a regular run of the mill interview with his eyes closed and half drunk and still ace it. he was going nuts with the mundaneness of it all. He wanted to shake it up but of course, he had his image to think about. He always had his image to think about, which is why his interviews had been blander than what he’d imagined potato salad with raisins would taste like.

He was tired of boring interviews and wanted to just go off the beaten path, just once. So, when he got wind that his team got an offer from a podcast called “The Thirsty Hour” to appear his interest was piqued. It took his team no longer than a minute to decline the offer. He’s expected that. The next day he turned right around and accepted the offer and had them go through Scott to finalize the arrangement.

When he showed up three nights later to the address, he’d been given he did so with Scott and his partner in tow. The location was a hair salon that had a basement that the owners of the salon and founders of the podcast; Shaundra and Aleesha had set up impressively well. It looked like a professional start-up radio station.

The duo thanked him for appearing and shook his hand over ten times with bright smiles plastered across their faces. He could tell their excitement and he was also excited to be there. It was sad this was how he got his kicks, sneaking off behind his team’s back to do interviews off the beaten path.

He was offered a drink while they went over the schedule and possible content. Business discussions turned to small talk and a whole lot of laughs and that turned to three beers before Shaundra and Aleesha began the show. He sat back and watched the dynamic duo in their element. He liked the way they fed off each other and knew he was going to have a good time.

Shaundra: Thanks again everyone for tuning in to our little podcast. It’s hard to believe that this is our two hundredth episode. It totally doesn’t feel like it.

Aleesha You’re right. It definitely doesn’t feel like it at all. We’ve been lucky that this has taken off the way that it has especially given how this is not a morning commute type of podcast.

Shaundra: Damn right, we’re the cousin of the morning commute podcast that many are ashamed of because they wouldn’t know where to begin when it comes to the things we talk about.

Aleesha: What kinds of things are those?

Saundra: The sex kinds. Sex positions, Kama Sutra, blow jobs, backshots, ways to spice up the marriage, how to give a proper striptease.

Chris’ eyebrows shot up as he was mid sip of his glass of brown liquor. The immediate thought in his head was this was going to get interesting.

Aleesha: And that is just the tip of the iceberg.

Shaundra: Tip of the dick print you mean.

Chris couldn’t help it but snort loudly. He held up his finger as an apology for his outburst but neither Shaundra nor Aleesha seemed to mind. They just smiled and shook their heads as if to tell him not to worry about it.

Aleesha: Speaking of dick print. I have no idea how we pulled this off, but we actually got confirmation that we’re doing things real BIG for our two hundredth episode. We have a special guest tonight, none other than Chris Evans.

Fake applause sounds on a track and Chris takes up the headphones and puts them on.

Shaundra: Welcome to the show Chris.

Chris: Thank you for having me. I appreciate the thought.

Aleesha: This is your first time on the show. Have you listened before?

Chris: I’m embarrassed to say that I haven’t. I don’t get much time to myself and it leaves little time to find new things or enjoy things on my own.

Shaundra: I understand that. We’re glad you were able to come through though. You look very low key like you intended to fly under the radar tonight in your t-shirt, hat, and jeans. Also, are those the new Nike’s?

He smiles and begins to blush.

Chris: I’m a bit of a sneakerhead. It’s a thing for me.

The ladies nod and look impressed.

Shaundra: You’re sure you’re not a black man parading around as a white man?

Chris: Sort of a like a reverse Rachel Dolezal?

The applause track plays again but is accompanied by Shaundra and Aleesha’s “ohs” and “wows”.

Shaundra: Shots fired.

He laughs and shrugs as he takes another snip of his drink thinking this isn’t so bad and had no idea why his team shot it down.

Aleesha: Speaking of black men. Chris, have you ever dated a sista?

Chris: Sista?

Shaundra: Sista, she mean--.

Chris: No, I know what a sista is.

Shaundra and Aleesha eye each other in a way that speaks volumes.

Chris: Officially no, I haven’t.

Aleesha: What’s unofficially?

Chris: I’ve flirted with, spoken with for a few days but nothing ever came of it.

Shaundra: Would you ever date a sista, a black woman?

Chris: I would. Why not? I look at more important things than skin color.

Aleesha: Like what?

Chris: Like, connection, conversation, sense of humor, interests, stuff like that.

Shaundra: I noticed you kept looks off that list. Do you not look at a woman’s looks?

Chris: The politically correct answer would be; looks don’t matter but in today’s world looks are everything.

Shaundra: Are looks everything to Chris Evans?

Chris: Nah. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Aleesha: So, do you have a type?

Chris: Nope.

Shaundra and Aleesha laugh together.

Shaundra: What catches your eye then? Nice eyes, plump lips, big boobs, small waist, wide hips, big ass? What makes Chris Evans look like the man in those memes who’s walking with his girlfriend but is looking back at a new, fresher piece of ass?

He laughs again and thinks about the question for a few moments. He takes another swig of the liquor and leans closer to the table.

Chris: Uh, I don’t know.

He was still feeling censored from his many, many years of doing just that.

Aleesha: Come on. Are you an ass man or a boobs man?

Chris: God, this is going to be everywhere tomorrow. The headline is going to say Chris Evans reveals he’s an ass man.

The ladies laugh again and clap.

Shaundra: Ah, so you’re an ass man.

Aleesha: Then you have to find yourself a sista. We’ve got great asses. Do you like them firm with no jiggle or round, plump with some jiggle?

Chris: Definitely some jiggle, something I can hold on to when I’m back there.

Shaundra’s and Aleesha’s drop open. He’d just disclosed that he likes doggy style.

Aleesha: So, Chris Evans is an ass man who likes backshots, which is the better term for doggy style? Did I just hear right?

His smile was wide, but he didn’t confirm or deny what she said. That action was a clear confirmation to them though.

Shaundra: Well alright then. I would have never guessed.

Aleesha: I would have. You give off this air of—confidence, it’s a confidence similar to what black men give off. I can’t explain it but there is something about you that is intriguing. I would have guessed.

He smiles and tips his head in a curt nod.

Shaundra: The last guest we had on the show, we asked about how he likes his head. He gave an idea of how he preferred it.

Aleesha: He gave up a play by play walkthrough.

Chris: Sounds informative. You do know that what works for one man doesn’t necessarily work for all right.

Shaundra: So, I’ve learned. Y’all are pickier than women.

Chris: Lies. What works for one woman definitely doesn’t work for all. If that’s the case I could just suck on a clit and boom off to space.

Again, Shaundra and Aleesha’s jaws dropped. He looked across to his brother who looked equally as shocked before he shook his head. It was at that time Chris realized he’d probably had enough to drink.

Aleesha: So that doesn’t work for every woman you’ve been with?

He laughs and shakes his head.

Shaundra: Oh, come on, closed mouths don’t get fed.

Chris: Loose lips sink ships or careers.

Aleesha: The ideals of a good career change over time. Live a little.

He laughed again but decided to just live a little and deal with it later.

Shaundra: So. Chris Evans eats the box?

Chris: How can any man be okay with not knowing how to please their woman or not wanting to do it to perfection. I am not above any of it. All of my fingering is accurate.

Laughter rang out in the small room.

Aleesha: He eats the box and is an accurate fingerer ladies.

Shaundra: What makes Chris Evans go wild in the bedroom?

Chris: So, a cheat sheet?

Aleesha: Why not. Ninety percent of the world might not ever get to use it so, yeah.

Chris: Okay. Someone who’s adventurous, not just into the basic things like a kiss here, lay on your back and thanks see you next time. I’m definitely a guy who enjoys the tease, make it last. Anticipation can be an intoxicating thing.

Aleesha: So, you’re into foreplay.

Chris: Absolutely.

Shaundra: What about when it comes to the head?

Aleesha: I have an idea. Here.

Aleesha places a standing mic in front of him and smiles.

Aleesha: Show us.

Chris: Show you?

Aleesha: Yeah. We always record our podcasts with video, and it goes to our YouTube for those who like a visual with their audio. We told you this. I figured the ladies at home would love to see.

He looks to his brother and his partner and they’re already laughing no doubt thinking this is what he deserves for throwing censors to the side.

Chris: What the hell.

He leans closer to the mic and clears his throat and acts as if he’s about to showcase some superior athletic skills.

Chris: All right so maybe start with some kisses along the—

Aleesha: Shaft?

Chris: Right, that. Don’t be afraid of it, get in there.

He allows the ball of the mic to jamb into his cheek before he smears his nose across it taking a deep inhale.

Chris: Just get in there. Tease it on your lips maybe add some sneak licks and flicks of the tongue before you come up and just put your mouth on it. a lot of women forget the head is super sensitive use that shit. Make him squeal and scrunch his toes.

Again, everyone laughed, and he tried to keep a straight face.

Chris: If you can’t take it all take what you can, don’t just have your tongue sit there either figure out what to do with it. experiment. Have fun. Don’t forget to use your hands too.

He grasps the mic with both hands and moves them in opposite directions sort of like a wrench.

Chris: Make them do the opposite of whatever your mouth is doing. Don’t be afraid to get messy. Sloppy toppy is not a bad thing. Let the spit drip, hell gag a little. Be enthusiastic about that shit. A man can tell an unenthusiastic dick sucker. It’s obvious if you don’t want to slob on the knob. Don’t be the unenthusiastic dick sucker.

They all couldn’t hold the laughter, including him. As he tried to get back into character, he took another sip of his drink and echoed the same thing he did from the beginning rubbing his face across the mic.

Chris: Just have fun with it.

Aleesha: And for the finish, are you a facial kind of man or would you prefer to give mouthfuls?

His smile was wide as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Chris: Why choose? Depends what the mood of the night is. It has to go somewhere though.

With that everyone uproariously laughed.

Shaundra: Wow. Wow. That is all I can say.

Aleesha and Shaundra both applauded his performance. He bowed his head to them and toward the camera in the corner.

Aleesha: I think that is all we can take tonight on The Thirsty Hour.

Shaundra: I’d say thirst quenched Aleesha?

Aleesha: Hell no, we’re parched.

Shaundra: Thank you, Chris Evans, for coming by and kicking it with us. Any sistas that wanna step to Chris and represent and do it for the culture and show him what he’s been missing, please. You now have a roadmap to his pleasure.

The ladies close the podcast and cut the video feed shortly after. They thank him again before he leaves and gets back into the car. On the drive, Scott teases him about him possibly going too far and warning him to be prepared for the fallout tomorrow. Chris knows he’s right but can’t seem to care. Tomorrow was another day and it wasn’t there yet.

#how do you like it headcanon #how do you like it one shot #Chris Evans #chris evans headcanon #chris evans oneshot

274 notes · View notes

sunmoonandeddie · 5 years

Text

i wished on the moon for you

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 9,879

summary: After losing Bucky, you were devastated. So when Howard Stark asks for volunteers for an experiment, you're the first in line.

warnings: Some h*ckin’ words.

a/n: So like. This is lowkey inspired by old jazz music. I've always loved jazz, and I just wanted to write something surrounding it. Let me know what you think!

"Army camps are strange," you said quietly, peering out the window curiously.

Your driver laughed a little, saying something about how you'd get used to it, but you paid him no mind. You were too busy looking at your new home. Men in army uniforms swarmed the area, and you realized just what you were getting yourself into as the car parked and the driver opened your door. The was muddy, crowded, and the air reeked of testosterone.

"Y/N!"

You turned at the sound of a familiar voice, grinning as you saw the familiar brunette walking across the yard to you. The men around her were parting like the Red Sea. Her hair was perfectly curled, as always, her lips painted a bright red. Peggy Carter was just as perfect as she had been in school.

"Peggy!" You said happily as you embraced her. "I've missed you so much!"

It had only been a year since you had graduated from your overly priced boarding school, but you hadn't gotten to see your roommate in that entire year, despite the fact that she had relocated to America to help with the war efforts right after. Mostly because your parents had been determined to keep you at home, in the deep south of Louisiana, and Peggy had been stationed up north in New York.

She pulled away from you, her hands resting on your shoulders. "I have so much to show you. And Abraham is ecstatic to meet you."

Ah, yes. Abraham Erskine. Your new boss. The entire reason you had gotten to come was because Peggy had mentioned how gifted you were in science, and because the man trusted her so much, he had agreed to hire you. Your parents had been appalled at first. They knew, of course, how smart you were, but they expected you to focus on getting a husband and having kids after you had come home. You were supposed to settle down with a nice, Southern boy of the corn-fed variety and have at least four children. It was what they did, what your sisters and brothers did, and it was only natural that they expected it of you, too. Even though you had been given some leeway as the youngest of the family, your parents were starting to get impatient. Your hope chest was the only one left, and your mama reminded you every chance she got. Typically, only the first born girl got a hope chest, but your daddy had insisted that every single one of you did.

You envied Peggy, in that her parents wanted her to follow her passion, even if it meant moving across the ocean.

She led you through the camp as the men started to notice you. It was hard not to, since you and Peggy were the only women in a ten mile radius, and they certainly weren't getting anything out of her. When you finally found Erskine, he was standing beside another man and watching a group of soldiers doing push ups.

"Dr. Erskine, this is Y/N L/N," she said.

The man turned to look at you, shaking your hand firmly as he clasped it with the other. "Ms. L/N, I've heard so many good things about you. I'm so excited to work with you."

His accent took you by surprise, but you didn't let it show as you shook his hand back. "The pleasure is all mine, Doctor."

"And this is Colonel Chester Phillips," she said, motioning to the man that Erskine had been speaking with. He let out a grunt in replying, and Peggy rolled her eyes before turning back to watch the group of soldiers.

When you noticed the way Peggy was looking at one of the men, a scrawny one that looked more like a boy, you nudged her. "What happened to your no dating rule?"

"That was in school," she replied with an eye roll. She was pretending as though it was no big deal, but the blush on her cheeks said otherwise. "And you had the same rule, too, you know."

"I'm not the one staring lustfully at one of the men you're commanding," you teased, giggling as she smacked your arm. "But, really. Who is he?"

"His name is Steve Rogers," Peggy said. You had never seen her look at someone in that way, and it kind of confused you. She hadn't liked anyone in school, always claiming that the men were too immature and she didn't have time for them. You had adopted the same mentality after a while, which is probably why your parents didn't like Peggy too much.

The two of you went quiet, listening to the two men beside you talk. Something about a serum. You were a little surprised when Colonel Phillips grabbed a grenade and pulled the pin, but you relaxed when you realized it was a dummy. The men he had thrown it towards, however, had no idea. They began to scramble, and the man that Phillips wanted to have the serum ran, while Rogers threw himself on top of it.

You took a glance at Peggy, who was smirking triumphantly as he yelled for everyone to run. "He clearly has no regard for his own life and safety," you commented, but you were grinning. You could tell he had a good heart, and that was more important to you than being a good soldier.

You spent months with the army, even after Steve was given the serum and Dr. Erskine died. Having been given the most knowledge about the program, you had been asked to stay on. So you traveled with Peggy, staying in the same room and working side by side. It almost felt like grade school all over again. The only difference was that you were in a country side in Austria and not the center of London.

"When he gets back, you should tell him how you feel," you said to Peggy. The two of you were standing in a tent, a radio nearby. Steve had left on a mission to rescue a group of POWs days ago and you could tell how anxious she was. So you just kept telling her things the two of them could do when he got back, like dancing. The two of you had loved to go to the dance halls in England, but hadn't had time since the war started. "Maybe you two could go to that diner on Broadway? They have that delicious apple pie that tastes like it's from down south." She had always teased you on how adamant you were that southern baking was better, but you stuck by it.

She stood up suddenly, her eyes going wide. "Is that..." You followed her as she made her way out of the tent. She was completely focused on the horizon, and you realized as you kept walking, that there was a massive amount of men walking towards the camp.

And at the very front, was Steve Rogers.

Peggy froze, and you took the moment to nudge her forward. "Go."

She didn't need any more convincing. She walked towards him with a purpose, her stride sure and her hands in fists at her side. But you could tell by the way she was biting her lip that she was nervous. You didn't hear what was said, standing back a little as you watched her make what you were sure was some kind of smart ass comment.

"Let's hear it for Captain America!" You heard someone shout, and you laughed a little as you watched the men erupt into cheers. You hadn't seen the men this happy in a long, long time. Most of the time they wore sullen faces that matched the dreary weather. But now, even though they were hungry, covered in mud, and far from their homes, they had a ray of hope in the form of Steve Rogers.

You made your way back to you and Peggy's quarters, turning on the radio. It took you a minute or two to find a station that was playing music instead of news about the war, but when you did, you turned it up loud. Music was something you had missed while on the road. You were usually too busy to just stop and enjoy it, since you were constantly trying to decipher Erskine's notes. There were stacks upon stacks of his journals on your desk, but you ignored all of that for the moment. Hundreds of men had made it back alive today after days of thinking the worst. That deserved a little celebration.

So you kicked off your shoes and you sang. At first it started out with just a few phrases, the sound timid and soft, but soon you were belting along with it. You were completely losing yourself in the music. You sang word for word with Billie Holiday, one of your favorite artists, as she sang 'I Wished on the Moon.' It was an older track, released in 1935, and she was only a feature on it, but it was still your favorite song of hers.

You jumped as you heard a knock on the door, turning to see a man with shaggy brown hair and stubble lining his jaw in the doorway. "Is, uh... Is Steve here?"

Frowning, you crossed your arms over your chest. You were a little embarrassed that someone had caught you singing with the radio, if you were honest. You were technically a superior, even if you were a scientist. "Depends on who's asking." Even though Steve wasn't there, you didn't know who this man was or what he wanted.

"I'm James. Steve's friend," he said, his eyes focused on you with a type of intensity that you couldn't place. But it made your cheeks warm the longer he looked at you. "My friends call me Bucky."

Recognition dawned on your face as you pointed at him. "You're Steve's friend from Brooklyn?" When he nodded, you smiled a little, relaxing as you realized that he was one of the people that had just been saved from the HYDRA base. "He's told Peggy and me a lot about you."

"So... Is he here?"

You were about to tell him no, he wasn't, when the man in question came up behind him, Peggy by his side. "You lookin' for me, Buck?"

Peggy's gaze landed on you as she squeezed past the two men, taking notice of the song playing. "You still love this song?"

You shrugged as you moved over to turn it down slightly. "You know me. Billie Holiday will always be one of the best artists, in my opinion."

"So I see you've met Y/N," Steve said, bringing your attention back as he clapped a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "She was working as Dr. Erskine's assistant when they turned me into..." He motioned at his body, not sure how to explain it. "This."

"I didn't realize you were a scientist," Bucky said in shock, his eyebrows furrowing.

"She's always been smart. She graduated top of our class at school, beating even me," Peggy said proudly, a smirk on her lips. You had always thought that she was the person most proud of you, and you were always reminded of it when she started to brag about you. "I finally managed to get her out of Louisiana by telling Erskine about her. He seemed pretty eager to take on an assistant. Y/N's actually taken over his job since he died."

"It's really not that exciting," you insisted as you waved her off, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I spend most of my time trying to decipher his notes and what they mean. Peggy's the one that actually trained all the super soldier candidates."

"No," Bucky said, shaking his head. "Don't put down your work. It's impressive." He looked at you with a sort of wonder, and that added with the way he had been looking at you before meant only one thing.

You were in trouble.

You bit your lip as you sat at the bar with Peggy, sipping on a glass of whiskey. It gave you a little taste of home, reminding you of how your mama would shoot you a wink as she slipped in a little bit of whiskey into your sweet tea. She always made sure your daddy was none the wiser, since he would've thrown a fit if he had known that his little princess was drinking.

Oh, how you missed the long summer days that would fade into warm, sultry nights. Before your sisters got married, the three of you would sneak out and go to the dances in town, taking shots of alcohol from whatever soldier caught your fancy that night. You were never really interested in any of them, never even them give you a kiss goodnight. They could walk you home, and sometimes even hold their hand if they were lucky, but you never kissed them. None of them were worthy. They were just looking for someone to have one last romp in the sheets with before they shipped out to Europe.

You didn't want that. You didn't want to be wooed and then tossed to the side. All those men ever saw you for was your beauty. They saw your pretty face and that was it. They didn't care about the fact that you had a mind. So you had waited. You had ignored the teasing from your sisters as they snuck off to the soldier's beds, sleeping with a multitude of men before they were married. They had joked that you were going to be the only one to actually deserve to wear white on her wedding day. Your parents and your two brothers could never know, of course. They would've shot every soldier in town and then locked the three of you in your rooms until you turned fifty. Not to mention nailing the window shut, like your childhood friend, Elizabeth Ann's, parents did when they caught her sneaking out.

"—every time I think he's going to ask me on a date, he doesn't," Peggy ranted, throwing back a shot of vodka. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as she shook her head. "I don't get it. I haven't exactly been subtle with my flirting."

"Peggy," you said, a smile tugging on your lips, "in case you haven't noticed, you're a little bit intimidating."

"I'm not intimidating!"

You couldn't help but giggle, feeling the alcohol start to take effect as you looked at your best friend. "Every man in here is terrified to talk to you." You shook her shoulder playfully. "It's because you're strong. And men are scared of strong women."

"Maybe that's why Bucky hasn't asked you out yet," Peggy replied, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at you.

You sputtered, choking a little on the whiskey. "What? Why would you say that?"

She rolled her eyes, turning herself in her bar stool to look out at the sea of men in the bar. They were all in uniform, but you could easily pick out Bucky. He was sitting in the back with a group of about eight men, plus Steve. His head was thrown back in a laugh, his hand resting on Steve's shoulder. He was absolutely radiant. Even when he got in one of his moods where the only people he wanted to talk to were Steve, Peggy, and you, he was beautiful.

"Because you and Bucky do this all the time."

Your focus turned back to her, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Do what?"

"This!" She motioned at you sloppily, the alcohol clearly taking it's toll. You hadn't seen her this tipsy since you snuck a bottle of liquor into your dorm room. "You two love to do this whole wistful staring when the other isn't watching thing, but the moment the other turns around, you look away! It's positively, absolutely pitiful!"

You shook your head, sputtering. "I don't do that! I don't do wistful staring!" You threw back the rest of your whiskey, turning to look at the bartender as you slid the glass to him. "I'm the ruthless southern belle that's broken the hearts of a thousand men, remember? And half of them were soldiers!" Peggy had always loved hearing stories about your summer when you went back to school, and it became an inside joke that you were a heartbreaker, simply because you didn't let men walk all over you.

"Mind if I buy you another?"

You whirled around to see Bucky standing there, a soft smile on his lips. Swallowing, you nodded, and he raised a hand to call over the bartender. After the glass of whiskey was slid across the bar to you, he turned to look at you once again. "So what's this about being a ruthless southern belle?" He took a seat on the stool next to you, and you were extremely aware of how his thigh brushed against yours. "And have you really broken the hearts of a thousand men?"

Groaning, you shot a glare at Peggy who had abandoned you and was walking towards a blushing Steve Rogers. "You heard that?"

"I most certainly did, and now I want the whole story."

He had a mischievous glint in his eye that made your knees weak, and you had to hold yourself back from kissing the smirk of those stupid lips of his. He was cocky. Usually it would make you run far, far away from a man, but he had a certain boyish charm that made you want to know more. You hated to admit it, but Peggy was kind of right about the wistful staring. In the six months since he had been rescued, you had spent a lot of time with him. Peggy and Steve spent most of their time together when they weren't busy with missions, and you and Bucky were always dragged along. Since both of your respective best friends were too wrapped up in each other to notice you, it ended with the two of you becoming extremely close.

So you told him. You told him about all the times you had broken a man's heart. Most of them were the same, but he still insisted. You would sneak out with your sisters to go to the dances, and when a soldier tried making a move on you, you'd turn him down. There were a few in there about boys you had grown up with trying to romance you, too. The entire time, Bucky was laughing and making jokes about how badly you must've hurt them, which in turn would throw you into a fit of giggles.

You weren't sure how long the two of you had been sitting there talking when he paused, looking at you for a long moment. He bit his lip, as though he was trying to make a big decision. Finally, he held his hand out to you. "Would you like to dance?"

Frowning, you looked out at the bar. "But it's so crowded. And no one else is dancing." You wanted to say yes. God, you really wanted to say yes. But you also knew that if you danced with him, the other men wouldn't ever stop making comments about you. They already did, but it would increase tenfold, and it would be nothing good.

You watched as Bucky slid off his stool, fixing his hat. "Then I think it's time we leave this bar and find a dance hall."

Looking at him in shock, you shook your head. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well," he said, his blue eyes glimmering even in the dim lighting, "I want to dance with you. And if that means I have to find a dance hall, then that's what I'm gonna do." He held out his hand to you, waiting for you to take it. Seeming to sense your hesitation, he leaned his head down slightly, his voice no louder than a whisper, "Do you trust me?"

As much as the thought of opening up your heart to someone scared you, you did trust him. "Yes."

The grin that spread across his face was contagious as you placed your hand delicately in his, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you out into the warm air. Summers in Austria were colder than Louisiana, but it was still summer. The feeling of freedom and adventures to be had lingered in the air, the night breeze gently twisting through your hair. The streetlights cast a soft glow on Bucky's face as you glanced up at him, quickly looking down when you caught him already looking at you.

"Why didn't you let any of those soldiers kiss you?" He asked. His voice was soft and sweet, his hand still holding yours. To the other people in the street, you looked like just another young couple wandering around, too drunk on each other to notice anyone else.

You shrugged a little as you kept your eyes forward. "All those men wanted was a quick, drunken romp. They would've forgotten about it the next night as they found some other girl to take home. Or, they want to find a woman that they can make into their little housewife to come home to after the way." The frustration you had gone through as a teenager was evident on your face as you frowned. "I never wanted that life. I didn't want to be one of those women that gives up her life, her career, because she meets a man. My sisters live that life, and I don't see the appeal. They're pushing out babies as fast as they can, only for the nannies to raise them while they get drunk at two in the afternoon."

"I see." Despite his short reply, you could tell how invested he was, how he was hanging on to every word you spoke. You briefly noted how his thumb was rubbing against the bank of your hand as you headed towards the sound of jazz music down the street. Light was pouring out from a building a few blocks down, and you could see young couples standing outside to get some fresh air before heading back in.

"My brothers are just like those soldiers. They chose the girls they married based on their pretty faces, not who they are as people." Your voice got quiet as you started to delve into a little bit more of what exactly the problem was. It was a little more personal. "Those men who kept trying to take me out only saw my face. They didn't care about the fact that I have opinions and dreams. I have goals in life." You let out a long sigh. "I want someone to fall in love because of who I am. Not because I'm pretty." You finally looked at Bucky again, only to find him staring at you with a little bit of sadness. "What?"

He stopped, the streetlight behind him casting a halo-like glow around him. His hands held onto yours, squeezing softly. "Y/N, you are the most vivacious woman I have ever met. You're witty and intelligent, with a tongue sharper than anyone I know." His eyes stayed locked on yours, your jaw dropping slightly. "You are extraordinary. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

You didn't know what to say. You had dreamed for so long of someone saying those words to you, and here it was. Finally swallowing the lump in your throat, you let out a bit of a laugh as you looked down in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I've just... No one's ever said those kinds of things to me before."

Bucky smiled, using two fingers to gently tilt your head up to face him. "How about that dance?"

The day that Bucky died started like any other. You woke up to the feeling of his lips pressed against your temple as he started to climb out of the bed. It was before dawn, but you knew that he had to get back before the camp wake up call. Otherwise, you'd never hear the end of it. You had tried to tell him that you didn't care about their jokes, but he did. He had insisted that he didn't want your reputation tarnished just because of him.

"You could stay," you murmured, blinking your eyes open to see him pulling on his shirt.

He turned to look at you with such a soft smile that it made your heart melt. His hair was still mussed from sleep, a red line on his face from the pillow. "You know why I can't," he said, but he crawled back into bed as you sat up to lean on your elbows. Pressing kisses all over your face, his fingers wound through your hair. "I love you so much."

"With how much you sneak out of here before sunrise, you'd think you were trying to hide me from your friends," you teased, closing your eyes as you relished in his affections. There was definitely no way he was hiding you. He took every chance he could to kiss you in front of his friends, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close. He had made his claim on you as soon as you let him, since the comments the other men would sometimes make about you rubbed him the wrong way. You had called it being jealous. Either way, the other soldiers had stopped making suggestive comments, even if it was only in front of him.

Bucky pulled you closer to him, his hands resting on your waist right under your night top. "Just for that comment, I'm going to give you the biggest, sloppiest kiss in front of the entire camp today," he said, and you started squealing with laughter as his fingers ran up and down your sides, tickling you.

"J-James! Stop it! James!" You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck, falling back onto the bed in a flurry of kisses. His hands finally stopped as your lips met his, relaxing into you. "I love you," you murmured, beginning to tug at the shirt he had just put on.

He must've realized what you were trying to do, because he pulled away with a shocked expression. "Were you going to seduce me to get me to stay in bed?"

You batted your eyelashes at him as you pursed your lower lip. It was a trick you had learned from your mama at a young age. "Well, it depends. Would it have worked?"

He groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." Bucky smirked down at you as you let out a soft giggle, biting your lip as you watched him. "I'll see you at breakfast, okay?"

If only the two of you had known that it was going to be the last night you ever spent together.

A few moments after he had slipped out the door, Peggy snuck back inside, just getting back from Steve's quarters that he shared with Bucky. It was kind of a good situation the four of you had going. After the rest of the camp had fallen asleep, she would sneak over the Steve's room, and once she got there, your boyfriend would head over to yours, before both of them switched back in the mornings. No one in the camp was any the wiser since it was all done under the cover of darkness. Everyone knew about you and Bucky, of course, but Peggy and Steve had asked you two to help them keep their relationship in the dark. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan had a lot more enemies than his best friend, and he was determined to not put her in danger, which you (as her best friend) appreciated.

You managed to catch another hour of sleep before the camp alarm sounded, and you dragged yourself out of bed to get ready for the day. The camp was bustling when you and Peggy finally made your way to breakfast.

As soon as Bucky saw you, he made good on his promise. His arms wrapped around you as he dipped you low, his mouth pressing against yours. You could hear the men whistling and hollering around you, but you were too focused on your boyfriend to care.

"Hi," you whispered breathlessly as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

His nose nudged yours as he said, "Hello." He smiled against your lips as he pulled you in for another quick kiss.

"I missed you this morning." You made sure to say it low enough so that no one else could hear you. By now, most of the men had turned back to their breakfast and were paying you no attention, but you still wanted to be careful.

"As soon as this war is over, we won't have to worry about sneaking around anymore," he promised, your fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. "You're going to be the head scientist at some fancy institution, and we'll have a little apartment close to Steve and Peggy's. I'll get to wake up next to you every single morning for the rest of my life."

The two of you had talked about the future of course, but he had never straight up said that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Your knees felt weak just at the thought, nodding happily. Bucky had meant what he promised all those months ago. He had never even implied that he wanted you to stay home and give up your ambitions just to have kids. Instead, he took every chance he could to help push you forward.

Your little moment was broken, though, when Steve almost ran up to the two of you. "Buck, we have to go now," he said, the most serious you had ever seen him. "We have coordinates on Zola's location."

Bucky turned to look at you and you nodded. "Come back home to me," you said softly.

He nodded, pulling you into one more kiss. "I will. I promise." With a last look at you, he ran off after his best friend.

You watched after him, your finger tips raising to touch your lips. You couldn't explain it, but there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that told you something was about to happen. You didn't know if it was good or bad, but you knew that a storm was brewing around you.

You could only hope that you all made it out.

You spent the entire day unfocused. You were struggling to get anything done, and Peggy was beginning to worry about you. Every few minutes, you'd glance out the window, looking for the silhouette of your boyfriend coming over the hill. Your leg wouldn't stop tapping and you kept having to wipe your hands on your skirt to get the sweat off.

You barely slept that night, the emptiness of the space next to you getting to your head. You tossed and turned and tossed and turned again. You could hear Peggy doing the same thing in the bed across the room.

"Are you awake?"

You sat up a little in your bed, barely making out her form in the darkness. "Yeah."

There was a pause. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

You didn't reply, just scooting over to make a little bit more room. She grabbed her pillow and tiptoed across the cold floor, despite the fact that you two were the only ones there. The bed dipped as she crawled in, her warmth helping protect you against the cold of the Austrian winter.

"Peggy?"

"Yes?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. "Why do I feel like something awful has happened?" About an hour earlier, you had felt this sinking feeling in your stomach, a pang in your heart.

"Maybe you just worry too much."

Despite what your best friend said, you knew that she understood. She tried to put on a brave front, but anytime Steve went on a mission, she became an anxious mess.

"It'll all be alright tomorrow morning when they get home," she insisted, clearly trying to make you feel better.

So you just nodded, and let her squeeze your hand. You could feel her fall asleep beside you, but you laid awake for a long time before sleep finally overtook you.

The next day, you didn't hear the shouts until almost noon. It was overcast and cold, a soft blanket of slow from the night before on the ground. You had been going through more of Erskine's journals when you heard it. Anytime men came home from a mission, the other men in the camp would run out to greet them. Peeking out the window, you saw as they started to pour out of the bunks, heading for the hill.

Grinning, you ran out of your quarters, following after them. But as you got closer, you began to slow down. The group you were running to only had nine. There was one missing. The feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach grew as you balled your hands into fists.

Once you were close enough to see Steve's face, you knew.

The other soldiers grew quiet as you still asked, "Where's Bucky?" The blonde shook his head, his eyes red and puffy, and you felt yourself begin to shake. "No. No. He promised he'd come back to me. Where is he?!" You stood up on your tiptoes, as though trying to see if they were hiding him. As if this were some kind of sick joke. "BUCKY! BUCKY!" When that didn't work, you shouted, "JAMES!" It was becoming more and more clear to you that he wasn't coming back. You couldn't deny that he was gone. You collapsed to the ground in a puddle of tears, sobs shaking your body as your fingers dug into the ground. You were covered in mud, but you didn't care. The love of your life was gone. Despite all the snide comments the other men had made about you and Bucky's relationship before, they were dead quiet now. Their heads were lowered as they did their best not to stare at your grief.

You felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and you turned to cling to Peggy. You weren't sure how long you stayed there in the mud, but by the time she finally got you to stand up, all the other soldiers had gone, leaving just you, Peggy, and Steve. You felt numb as she led you back to your room, turning on the shower. Staring blankly at the wall, you let her undress you and shove you under the water, not bothering to try to wipe away the mud that had absolutely covered you.

That night was the first time you had cried yourself to sleep over James Barnes, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

Two years passed by in a blur, and you still felt empty. The war had been won, and you had gone back to America with Peggy in tow, but it didn't feel right. Bucky was supposed to be at your side. It didn't help that Steve had also died, leaving you and your best friend utterly broken.

Well, you were utterly broken still. Peggy had started to put the pieces back together and had even agreed to go out on a date with some man. He had been one of the soldiers that Steve had saved when he rescued Bucky. Part of you wondered if she was only going on the date because it was one of her last connections to Steve, but you didn't ask. You had no right to judge how she mourned.

You, however, threw yourself into your work. You had found yourself working with Howard Stark after the war. It was the kind of thing Bucky had always said you'd do.

But instead of coming home to the love of your life, you had no one. Peggy lived down the hall, of course, but it wasn't the same. It didn't fill the aching void in your heart.

So when Stark came in to tell you about his new experiment, you immediately volunteered your services, which is what led you to this.

You were climbing into a glass box, preparing yourself for whatever was about to happen. Either you were going to die, or you were going to be frozen. It was an experiment in cryogenics, to see if someone could effectively be frozen in time.

"Here, I want you to have this," Peggy said, wiping tears from her eyes as she took off her heart-shaped locket. It held a picture of the two of you on one side, and a picture of Steve and Bucky on the other. Her hands shook as she put it on you, moving your hair out of the way. "I want you to remember us when you're woken up in a hundred years," she teased, though you could tell she was actually upset.

You pulled her into a tight hug, tears falling down your cheeks. "Please live the best life you can," you said softly, your voice crackling a little as you held onto her. "I want to crack open a history book and see chapters filled with stories about you, okay?"

She nodded with a bit of a laugh, pulling away to look at you one last time. You had both given up on not crying, and it was a sight to see. "I love you, Y/N," she said, squeezing your hands.

"I love you, too." You looked up to see Howard Stark coming over, knowing it was time. "Maybe I'll see you on the other side," you said with a playful wink, before you leaned back.

"Ready?" Howard asked, his eyes searching your face for any hesitation. He was finding it hard not to cry himself, since he had spent the last two years becoming one of your closest friends. He could be an asshole at times, but he really did mean well, and he was fiercely loving and protective over those he cared about, which included you.

He was also giving you a chance to back out. This was the moment before, when you could change your mind. You could step out of the box and go home with Peggy. You could find a boy to settle down with, and see your family again. You hadn't even said goodbye to them in person, having just sent each of them individual letters explaining what you were doing. You had known that doing it in person would've hurt too much and they would've just eventually convinced you not to. But you had to do this. If only for the sake of science, you had to do it.

"Ready."

Cold.

That's the first thing you felt as you started to come to, though a deep soreness in your muscles is the second. You can also hear people talking in hushed voices a few feet away, but you don't quite have the strength to open your eyes.

"—found her in his lab. He had this locked room he never let anyone go into, but he would disappear there for hours at a time."

"How did you unfreeze her?"

"Easy. I just read his journals. He had everything written down with strict instructions on getting her out of there."

There was a long pause, before a different voice asked, "Do we even know who she is?"

"That's all in here." There was the sound of ruffling papers. "It's all medical and school records, but at least we know her name."

"Y/N M/N L/N. Born July 11th, 1921... Says here she went to St. Martin-in-the-Fields High School for Girls in London, but she was born in Louisiana."

"Boarding school," the first voice said. "Lots of southern families sent their daughters to get an education before coming home and being baby makers for the rest of their lives."

Well, that stung, even if it was true.

"Wait..." The second voice was speaking now. "St. Martin-in-the-Fields. Isn't that the same high school Peggy Carter went to?"

More ruffling of papers. "Holy shit. She was her roommate for all four years."

You took that moment to open your eyes, gasping as the light shone brightly on you. You felt like you had been hit by a brick. There was the sound of footsteps as the three people who had been talking rushed to your bedside. When you finally blinked your eyes open again, your gaze immediately went to the brunette man to your left. "Howard?! How long was I frozen?!" The others, a black man with nicely trimmed facial hair and a blonde woman with big green eyes were staring at you in surprise.

The brunette man that you were sure was your former partner shook his head, his brow furrowed. "I'm his son, Tony. You'd been asleep for almost eighty years."

You sat up in a rush, groaning as the pain hit you. The three people guided you back down to the bed. Once the pain had passed, you took a moment to look around. You were in what seemed like a hospital bed, but there were no machines around you. A window to your right gave you a view of a forest surrounding whatever building you were inside. Finally, you turned back to the people in front of you. "What year is it?"

They all paused, looking between each other like they were debating telling you or not. Finally, Tony said, "It's the year 2021."

Holy shit. Holy shit, it was actually a hundred years since you had been born, and that was... You didn't even know what to say as you looked at them in shock. Your mouth had gone drier than a desert. The man beside Tony seemed to sense what you needed, because he handed you a glass of water, which you sipped at greedily. When you were finally done, you held onto the glass like it was a lifeline. "Who are you two?"

"I'm Rhodey."

"Pepper."

You turned your head to look at the son of Howard Stark, tears rimming your eyes. "You look just like him, you know. You have the same eyes." That seemed to strike a chord within the man, who cleared his throat as he looked down. "Is Howard still alive?" The thought of possibly seeing him excited you, even if he was in a nursing home by now.

But Tony shook his head, sympathy in his eyes. "He died in 1991."

You knew when you had been put under that you most likely wouldn't come back to find anyone you had known alive, but it still hurt. The last time you had seen Howard, he had still been so full of life. "Did he live a happy life, at least?"

He was staring at you with such wonder, his mouth set in a thin line. "He built one of the biggest companies in the world. He was a devoted husband to my mother, Maria."

Your heart warmed at the thought as you smiled a little. "I always thought she would be good for him. I'm happy that he married her and settled down."

Slowly sitting up, you frowned down at the clothes you were in. Someone had changed you out of the clothes you had been wearing when you went under, and you were now clad in some... weird material. The name Stark was emblazoned across whatever long sleeved thing you were wearing. "What is this?"

Pepper smiled a little as she folded her hands in front of her. "They're called sweats. It's kind of the generic clothing your given when you come to the Avengers compound."

Avengers compound? The hell was that?

Seeming to sense your confusion, Pepper waved her hand to dismiss the thought. "I'll explain later. I can give you a tour of the compound, though, if you're up for walking?"

Well, that you didn't know about. You didn't know exactly what Howard had done when he had frozen you. Were your muscles frozen exactly in place, so that you'd be able to do everything you had been able to back then? Would you need to go through extensive amounts of physical therapy? Hell, were you even young anymore? You assumed you were, considering when you looked down at your hands they looked exactly the same as the day you had gone under.

The memory of that day flashing to your mind, you reached up to your neck, relaxing when you found the heart shaped locket that Peggy had given you.

Taking a chance, you slowly moved your legs to hang off the side of the bed, before standing up completely. The tile beneath you was cold to the touch and it sent a shiver through your spine. When you stood up, you found that Howard had managed to freeze you so that your muscles didn't deteriorate. There was a little stiffness, but that wasn't anything you couldn't fix.

"If everything becomes too much, let us know," Rhodey said, finally speaking up. "We don't want you getting overwhelmed by how much has changed."

You nodded, walking beside the three of them as they led you out of the room. You found yourself in a hospital wing, which you had expected. A few doctors were milling about, but not many. You weren't there for long as Tony led you through double doors into a massive hallway, glass lining both sides. On your right, you could see the outside. All you could see was forest for miles and miles and miles. On your left, you could watch a multitude of people at a state of the art gym. The machines were a little upgraded from what you remembered, but the idea was the same.

You were only half listening as Tony explained different things around the compound, Pepper and Rhodey sometimes adding in little anecdotes. You were taking everything in quietly, processing it as best you could. More than a small part of you had thought that Howard's experiment wouldn't work, and you'd end up dead. Sure, he was a genius, and he had successfully frozen rats for a few days to a few months, but eighty years? It had seemed absurd.

You should've known better than to estimate him.

"And this is the Avengers living quarters," Rhodey said as the four of you stepped onto an elevator. You were surprised at how smoothly it moved as it took you up three floors. They had kind of explained what the Avengers were, so you got the basic idea, but it was still hard to believe.

You stepped out of the elevator and into a large living room. What seemed to be a television hung up on the wall, and you were shocked at the sheer size of it. "You're just like your father," you mused as Tony went on and on about all the inventions you probably didn't know about.

He continued to give you the tour, explaining each and every room in detail. When he had finally finished his two hour long explanation of his lab, you were starting to feel tired. You had been one of the top scientists in the world when you had gone under, and now you were outdated. There'd be so much you'd have to learn if you ever wanted to catch up.

When you rounded a corner that led to a kitchen area, you spotted a group of about eight people sitting there. They paid you no mind, except for a familiar blonde. "Y/N?!" He shouted.

"STEVE?!"

The two of you ran to each other, and he laughed as he picked you up, hugging you as tightly in possible. All the others had gone silent in confusion as they watched you. The only people who knew what was going on was Tony, Rhodey, and Pepper. "They told me you died," Steve said, disbelief in his eyes.

"I was on the radio when you had died!" You had been in the room with Peggy, listening to the mission, when he had gone down. You had been the one to hold her as she broke down, a mirror image of you when Bucky had been lost.

A realization dawned on Steve's face, and he opened his mouth to say, "Y/N, you—"

"Y/N?"

You froze at the sound of that familiar voice, your heart beating harshly against your rib cage. There was no way. There was no way that he was alive. You had spent two years mourning him and had volunteered yourself for what you had assumed was a death sentence because of his death.

Steve moved to the side, and there he was. He was standing at the entrance to the kitchen, clearly having just walked in. There was a soft sheen of sweat on his brow, like he had just gotten back from the gym.

"Is it really you?" Your voice cracked as you felt the tears start to well up.

Without a second thought, the two of you were running for each other. You launched yourself into Bucky's arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He smelled exactly the same as he had back then, and you took in a deep breath. His fingers were winding through your hair, and he just kept whispering, "I can't believe you're here. I love you so much."

You pulled back as you pushed his hair away from his face. "Your hair is longer," you said with a bit of a laugh, and he wiped away the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. "I like it."

He grinned, pulling you into a long kiss. You could practically feel the stares of disbelief as you wrapped your arms around his neck, elongating the kiss. His lips still fit perfectly against yours and it sent a sob through you.

You felt a burst of fury as he put you down, and you reached out to slap him. He stared at you in shock as you angrily pointed at him. "You promised you would come home. You scared the shit out of me, you... You asshole!"

But he just smiled. His hands reached out for you again and he pressed a long kiss to your forehead. "I'm home now, my love. I'm home and nothing's ever going to take me away from you ever again."

"Better not," you sniffled, your hands grasping his shirt so tightly your knuckles went white. "Because if it happens again, I'll kill you myself."

Bucky paused, confusion in his bright blue eyes. "What happened, though? How are you here?"

"I could ask you the same question," you countered, before explaining. "I worked with Howard Stark after the war. He spent a lot of time on cryogenics, and when he asked for volunteers... I offered."

Now it was his turn to be mad at you. "Y/N, please tell me you didn't offer yourself as an experiment." When you smiled at him sheepishly in response, he scowled, pulling you into his arms again. "You could've died."

"But I didn't. And apparently neither did you," you said, raising an eyebrow questioningly at him. You also looked down at his arm, finding metal there instead of the flesh you remembered. You weren't upset by it, just confused. He was still your Bucky, whether or not he had a limb missing.

But before he could explain, someone asked, "Okay, but who are you?"

You looked at the other people who were standing around the kitchen, a few sitting on bar stools. "I'm Y/N L/N."

A man with curly brown hair stood up, his eyebrows furrowed. "Wait. THE Y/N L/N?"

You slowly nodded, a little confused that he recognized you.

When he saw your expression, he pulled out what Tony had explained early was a cell phone, and tapped on it quickly before passing it to you. What you saw was an entire article on a scientific website about your contributions. They spoke about how you blazed a trail for other women to join the field, and about how the war couldn't have been won without you. The thought sent tears to your eyes as you laughed, covering your mouth in shock.

"Y/N... You're a hero," he said, before holding out his hand for you to shake, wonder in his eyes. "I'm Bruce. Bruce Banner."

"It's lovely to meet you," you replied, a blush on your cheeks.

He shook his head, grasping your hand. "The pleasure is all mine. Really."

Bucky must've thought he had been holding your hand too long, because he let out a low, "Hands off." You burst into laughter as you saw the same expression he had always worn when one of the other soldiers would hit on you, his eyes going dark and his lips set in a deep frown.

The others were a little shocked at how jealous he got, but he ignored them in favor of wrapping his arms around you, kissing your hair. "Don't be mean," you chided, and he just hummed in response. His grip on you was the same, despite his metal arm, and you still felt safer in his arms than you had anywhere else in the world.

"But really, how do you guys know each other?"

Steve decided to be the one to explain that time, glancing back at the two of you with a bit of sadness. "Y/N was Peggy's best friend from boarding school, and we all met when she got her a job working with the man who gave me the super soldier serum."

You looked at him with a frown, biting your lip. "Peggy?..." Steve nodded in response, knowing what you were asking, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. You had hoped that you might get to see her in her old age, but you had missed her.

"I know that Y/N still needs to be introduced to everyone, but that can wait," Bucky suddenly said. You gasped as he threw you over his shoulder. "I'm keeping her to myself for a while."

You groaned in embarrassment as he started to carry you out of the room, kicking and hitting at his back in protest. "Bucky! Put me down!" But you stopped after you got to another elevator, which took you up to what seemed to be a hallway lined with bedrooms. You were proven right when he opened a door, bringing you into a sunlit room and tossing you onto the bed.

You watched Bucky with a soft, adoring gaze as he kicked off his shoes, peeling off his shirt before getting onto the bed. He crawled on top of you, his long hair falling on either side of your face as your hands moved to rest on his chest. "You're buffer than the last time I saw you," you murmured in awe, your fingers running over the skin. Your right hand brushed against his shoulder, where his metal arm connected. "What happened to you, my love?"

His calloused hand cupped your face, his thumb running tenderly over your cheek. "HYDRA captured me after I fell from the train, and they nursed me back to health." But a frown was covering his features. "They gave me a serum similar to the one Steve got, and they brainwashed me." Your heart sunk in your chest as you wiped away his tears. "I was an assassin known as the Winter Soldier for seventy years, before I escaped." His watery eyes finally met yours. "Y/N... I assassinated Howard and Maria Stark."

Your heart broke as you saw how much it hurt him, and you shook your head. "It's not your fault. You didn't know what you were doing," you whispered, pulling him down into a soft kiss. Howard had been Bucky's friend, too, and you could only imagine how much it hurt him. You held Bucky to your chest, both of you starting to cry. "I'm here now. You've got me and I'm never leaving," you whispered.

Downstairs, the Avengers were watching the spot you had just been in shock.

"Wait, Bucky had a girlfriend?!" Sam asked, shaking his head.

Peter seemed to have a different concern. "Bucky SPEAKS?!"

Steve rolled his eyes, smirking at the others. "Bucky had a life before the Winter Soldier, you know." He glanced back at the direction you two had gone, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned against the counter slowly. "Y/N was the best thing that had ever happened to Bucky. I had never seen two people more in love. When he died... It was like her heart had been ripped out of her chest." The look in his eyes were hollow as his mind went back to the day you had sat in the mud, screaming at the sky for taking away the man you loved. "I had never heard a sound like that."

"So she just volunteered to be frozen by Tony's dad?" Natasha scoffed.

"She's one of the bravest people I've ever met," he said. "And the smartest. If she believed that she could do something to help progress, she was going to do it." He left out the fact that you had probably thought you wouldn't wake up. He had felt that kind of loneliness after waking up and finding that everyone he had known was either dead or within a few years of dying. It could really get to you, feeling like you'd been left behind.

The next morning, you woke to an empty bed and sun pouring in through the windows. You sat up harshly, looking around the room for Bucky. You almost thought you had dreamed the day before when he came out of what you assumed to be the restroom.

"I'm here, I just had to use the bathroom," he said as he crawled back into the bed, pulling you into his embrace.

You curled up against his chest, your legs tangling with his. "I thought I had dreamed yesterday."

Bucky chuckled as he kissed a press to your nose. "Go back to sleep."

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

He squeezed you a little tighter. The world had changed drastically. He had been through hell and back, and lived to tell the tale. There was a little more sadness lingering within the both of you, and you knew that you two were a little more broken than when you had first met. But he was still your Bucky. He was still the man you wanted to wake up to every morning. You still wanted to do life with him. You wanted to bicker over him leaving the toilet seat up, and steal the covers at night. You wanted to dance around the kitchen with him and take long strolls under the moon, drunk on each other like you had been all those years ago in a tiny town in Austria.

"Always."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #40s!reader #40s!bucky #40s!reader x 40s!bucky

4K notes · View notes