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#my love for the recruiters is what led me to get into twisted
ohmaigod · 2 years
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Disney villain recruiters walked
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So twisted wonderland could run
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mikavlcs · 10 months
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Young Blood
Pairing: Gwen Stacy x gn!reader
Summary: You’re new and Gwen’s forced to show you around. It doesn’t end up being as tedious as she was expecting.
Warnings: mild astv spoilers, my writing lol
Word count: 1.6k
Notes: listen, i know this will get like 20 notes, but i needed to do this okay. i love her sm. this also my first time writing anything marvel related...as i’m sure you can tell.
Masterlist
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Gwen dug the heels of her palms into her eyes as she walked up the wall, unsuccessfully fighting off another exasperated groan.
She shouldn’t have been doing this. She should be off in another dimension fixing anomalies and fighting bad guys, not this. Anyone could greet new recruits, so why Miguel insisted on making her do it was an eternal mystery. She was honestly starting to think that he just liked annoying her.
Jessica offered her a sympathetic smile when delivering the news, but Gwen didn’t want sympathy, she wanted a mission.
Still, she followed orders, knowing that disobeying would only put her further down the mission list. Plus, with Pavitr and Hobie busy, what else was there to do?
She stepped up to the entrance and her eyes found you immediately. You were easy to spot. All newbies were. They all had the same awe-struck reaction to the compound which Gwen couldn’t blame them for, considering she had been there once herself.
Your mask was off, hanging limp in your hand while your eyes roamed the vast space with a wonder she felt only months prior. It brought a smile to her face.
“Insane right?” she prompted gently as she approached, drawing your eyes to her. “I had the same reaction. It’s not every day you get to see so many spider-people in one place.”
“I didn’t know there was this many. I thought I was the only one,” you admitted, astonishment clear in your voice.
Gwen chuckled. She knew the feeling well. “We all did, but there’s more of us than you can imagine.” She stuck out a hand. “I’m Gwen, by the way. I’m your appointed tour guide.”
You took her hand, gave it a firm shake. “I know, Jessica told me. Nice to meet you, Gwen.”
“Likewise. What Earth are you from?”
“Uh,” you trailed off briefly, tapping at your watch. “Earth-69.”
A snort escaped her before she could stop it. You looked up at her, wide-eyed, while she fought to contain herself.
“I’m sorry, I’m—it’s nothing. I’m actually from Earth-65. Never met anyone from the same sector.”
Brows raised, you remarked, “Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” She took a look at your suit and, seeing the abundance of white expertly weaved in with the mixture of red and black, couldn’t help asking, “So, why white? Most of us use some combination of red and blue. Besides me, obviously.”
“I want my enemies to see me coming,” you replied, sending her a slightly off-kilter grin that made her unsure whether you were joking. She smirked.
“Foreboding. I like it.” She turned, signaling you to follow. “Now, come on. As you can see, we have a lot of ground to cover, and Miguel will want to brief you as soon as possible.”
You obeyed, following her as she led you around headquarters, showing you the ins and outs of every winding, overlapping corridor while informing you of the group’s purpose. Well, as much as she could without ruining Miguel’s big presentation.  
About a third of the way in, she said, “I should probably start introducing you to the others.” Gwen looked around, spotting a few vaguely recognizable masked faces. She pointed to one with a large white spider on his chest.
“That’s Peter.”
He gave you a polite salute which you returned, giving him a compliment about his suit as well. A familiar plastic Lego figure came ambling down the way. Gwen pointed to him.
“That’s Peter.”
The Lego twisted his hooked handpiece in your direction. You gave him a startled wave in response, looking thoroughly perplexed. Next, a car came cruising along and she pointed at it.
“That’s also Peter.”
The car honked as it sped by. You didn’t even react this time. Up ahead, Gwen spotted Ben, sitting off to the side with his tightly curled up to his chest. She sighed, halfheartedly pointed in his direction.
“That’s—”
“—let me guess, Peter?” you cut in, shooting her an unimpressed look.
She laughed. “No, that’s Ben.”
You let out a quiet oh and gave him a concerned look. Ben roused at the sound of his name, looking at the both of you with an absolutely pitiful expression.
“I would greet you guys, but I’m in the middle of a very traumatic flashback,” he moaned, overblown sorrow tinging his words.
Your eyebrows knitted together, and you started to say something, but Gwen pushed you forward by your shoulders, throwing a bye, Ben! over her shoulder. “Trust me, it isn’t worth it,” she mumbled at the confused look you gave her.
She continued guiding you by your shoulders, ignoring the odd looks from passing spiders, until you stopped short suddenly, making her crash into your back.
You were frozen, mouth agape, and eyes locked on something across the way. “Is that a t-rex?”
Following your gaze, Gwen beamed and nodded. “Yep. That’s Spider-Rex.” You gaped.
“Hey Pter!” she yelled with a wave. A ground-shaking roar echoed through the compound in response, scaring more than a few spiders and making Gwen chuckle. After a few more moments of gawking, you unfroze and continued following her, though your eyes still trailed the dinosaur in the distance.
The rest of the tour went without a hitch, the only small stops being a break to pet Spider-Cat and a short introduction to Margo. Soon enough, she was leading you down the long, dark hall to Miguel’s sanctuary.
Miguel, seemingly sensing your guys’ incoming presence, activated his platform and let it start making its way down. Very, very slowly. He wasn’t even halfway down by the time you guys made it into the heart of his den. Gwen barely resisted facepalming. He did this with every newbie, and it got more embarrassing each time. She leaned over to you, suppressing a grimace at the bewildered look on your face.
“I know, it’s slow. He just really likes his dramatic entrances,” she explained away, watching Miguel’s platform descend from above ever so slowly.
You both stood there for minutes, until finally, the platform stopped, and Miguel turned to peer down on you with a look that would have made Gwen cower a few months ago, but now just made her want to heave a deep sigh.
“Miguel, this is the new recruit from Earth-69,” she announced, voice rising at the end with the remnants of a poorly contained laugh. You didn’t seem to catch it, but Miguel did. He gave her a look that told her to knock it off and she did. Hesitantly.
He stepped off the platform and approached, eyes solely on you. “I see. Welcome. We’re glad to have you, but unfortunately, your briefing will have to wait as something has come up.” He turned his gaze to Gwen then, and her posture straightened as she realized what he was about to say.
“Gwen, I’ve got a mission for you.”
“Yes! Finally,” Gwen replied. But he was giving her that look. Her excitement wavered, realization setting in. “Please, don’t say tha—”
“You’ll be needing a partner for this mission.”
Gwen groaned. She hated partner missions. Even when she got the opportunity to pair up with people she liked, she much preferred to go solo. She just worked better alone—always had and always would. She tried to plead with Miguel, “C’mon, Miguel, you know I’m—"
“This is non-negotiable, Gwen,” he cut her off with that annoyingly authoritative tone that she couldn’t stand. “Pick a partner and get going ASAP. I want this done as quickly as possible.”
He walked off then, likely to find Jessica, leaving Gwen to sulk. And she did for about thirty seconds before pulling herself together. When Miguel wanted something done, it needed to get done. She could sulk more later. For now, she shifted her focus to finding an apt partner.
Her go-to’s were off the table. Pavitr was off on his own solo mission and Hobie was off doing lord knew what. Probably something anarchy related. She would have to find someone else.
Jessica was always busy these days, and she was taking less and less missions as her due date neared anyway, so she was off the table. She wasn’t asking Ben because she valued her remaining sanity. Peter B was an option, but he’d want to bring his baby along and Gwen was not equipped to deal with that. But maybe Web-Slinger would work. Or one of the various Peters. Or…maybe someone new.
Her eyes drifted over to you, still at her side despite the tour being technically over. She sized you up, once, twice, then one more time for good measure. You could work, but she knew nothing about how you operated in the field. The entire time, you watched her with a raised brow, unafraid of her judgment.
She crossed her arms, leveled you with a careful look. “On a scale from 1-10, how would you rate your combat ability?”
“10/10, but I may be a bit biased,” you responded immediately, still maintaining eye contact.
Her chin jerked up, eyes narrowing. “Confident, okay. How about web-slinging ability?”
“9.5/10.”
“9.5?”
“I might’ve hit a bird last time,” you said with a small grimace, “but everything else was flawless. Promise.”
That was good enough for Gwen. She uncrossed her arms and stepped closer, giving you a sly smile.
“Well then, newbie, how would you like to go on your first mission?”
You were pulling on your mask before she could even finish, red fabric veiling your wide smirk. “Let’s do it.”
With a nod, she inputted the coordinates Miguel sent her and watched as a corresponding portal spawned with a brilliant burst of light and color. The sight never got old, no matter how many times she saw it. You stepped up to her side and she sent you a sideways glance, a smile creeping onto her face.
Partner missions sucked, but she had a feeling this one wouldn’t be so bad.
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mygwenchan · 4 months
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It's yet another Thursday and I'm back with my commentary on the newest Playboyy episode 🤗
Last time we left off with Nont telling the baddie bunch that he is in fact not the sweet Nant they all knew, but his twin brother. Let's see what will follow after this shocking reveal!
And damn, we're starting the episode with a ton of new information about Nant:
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He contacted Nont before his disappearance
Their mother wasn't sick, but tried to commit suicide, most likely not for the first time
Nant wanted to visit Nont in the US, but went missing before he could catch his flight
Nont and Nant last talked on their birthday, June 11th
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Nont is revealing this to Nant's friends and finally the boys start talking. And.. well, there is a lot they have to say 😳
Captain: He was indeed the one who suggested that Nant should get more experience when it comes to sex. All because Nant wasn't able to get into character for the play "Desire under the Elms". That's a real play actually, you can read the Wiki summary here. In short: it's like a Greek tragedy set in 1850s England. Nant was most likely meant to play Eben, the son of a farmer who has recently remarried. Eben and his step-mother have an affair, there's a baby too... but in the end she kills her child to prove her love to Eben and both Eben and the woman get taken away by the police. It's a play that requires a lot from the actors, with passion and jealousy and twisted minds. So in order to save this project, Nant followed Captain's advice and went to the same online platform that Phop and Nuth are also using.
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And wouldn't you know? Nant actually met up with Nuth! Maybe they connected over their shared passion for film making and plays?
(those colors are giving me VegasPete flashbacks 😅)
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Zouey & First: Our little Zouey reveals that after those encounters with Nuth, Nant started asking his friends for money, for 100.000 Baht to be exact. When asked why, Nant gave the excuse that his mother is sick and he needs the money for her treatment. Both Zouey and First refused to give him anything.
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Porche: And since Nant didn't get any money from his friends, he turned to Proche's older brother Prom. That must've been when Nant signed the slave contract with Prom and they started their journey into the world of bdsm. Prom gave a good amount of money to Nant, but apparently it still wasn't enough.
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Then Porche got pissed off and told Nant to quit getting involved with Prom, going so far as to threaten to kick Nant out of the house. Nant asked First to mediate between them, but First refused.
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Basically: Nant had a ton of reasons to slip and all of those combined probably led to his downfall. The question still is though: What did he need the money for? Maybe to give it to Nuth? For what? Did Nuth film their encounter and blackmail Nant with the video? We already know that Nuth needs money, he keeps lending it from his Phi, sells drugs, sells porn videos too... Nuth has a dream, most likely to make a movie and revive his old glory days when he'd get one award after the next. He seems to be willing to do almost anything to achieve that goal...
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And Nont also reveals to the friends that in the end Nant sold porn clips to Captain in order to get more money. Yeah, they should all feel bad about this. Nont is rightfully pissed at them (maybe he should crack out a whip? A paddle? Go all dom on their twink asses? hehe)
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In the end they still don't know who the dog guy is though and what Nuth's role is in all of this. So Nont decides to recruit the baddie bunch as his new detective assistants!
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To quote First:
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It's a mess, but I'm here for it!😌
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mistydeyes · 9 months
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hiiii can i get a codmw2 pairing please? :)
Appearence:
I'm 5'2", pretty strong, and a bit chubby. I have like shoulder-armpit length hair that i usually curl the ends of. the ends of hair are actually reddish pink because i'm growing out my bleached hair and back to my natural dark dark dark brown. i'm asian and i have a cat face aesthetic (its a korean thing i think) and i love wearing make up, but really like neutral and natural makeup.
Personality & Likes and Dislikes:
i'm actually quite adventurous and love to do new things like paragliding, jet skiing, canoeing, and a bunch of other stuff. i'm pretty nonchalant and i love laughing and having fun with people, but if something upsets me, i won't hesitate to be assertive and confront the person. people have told me i'm painfully honest, but i don't really care because i like when people are honest with me even if it hurts. i hate when people are harsh on others for no reason and always think they're better than others. i love cooking, baking, and spending time out and about rather than staying at home, but i will stay home if i'm lazy :))
Future:
I just signed my papers for the us air force and i'm planning on shipping out next year because i'm working right now as a sterile processing tech to get some money for my family and to just chill out too. when i join, i'll go to tech school to be an aerospace medic and probably just continue with the medical path because i've been doing it since high school
What I look for in a Partner:
I want someone who can care for me and keep up with me and my spontaneous personality. I want someone who's outgoing but also able to watch over me and not be as reckless. like someone who would take me out to a karaoke bar and be my singing buddy but also give me a piggy back ride because my feet hurt from my heels yk? someone responsible but also fun
sorry if this was a little long :( tysm izzie!!
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
How you met: Military Kyle had the experience of a lifetime as he was invited to the US Air Force Academy in Colorado to provide some insight on successfully parachuting out of planes. He excitedly demonstrated the techniques on the ground to the cadets and led the exercise through the air. Once he was done, one of the Staff Sergeants invited him to take a ride on the F-15E Strike Eagle and experience Mach 2.5+. Of course, Kyle said yes but as the plane rose in altitude and the pilot continued accelerating, he knew he was doomed as he lost consciousness. When Kyle woke up, still strapped in the plane but grounded, he immediately threw up on the person who was trying to unbuckle his harness. Unfortunately, you had the honor of being covered in vomit as you were trying to wake him up. His eyes grew like saucers when he saw your gorgeous face twist in disgust. "I am so sorry," he said as you tried to shake off the chunks from your uniform. "It's alright, Sergeant Garrick, let's get you to the medical wing," you politely said as the recruits and even their commanding officers laughed wildly at the sick British officer. As you slung an arm around his waist and helped him down, he continued to apologize. "Please call me Kyle, it's the least you can do after all this," he said and you hoped he would make it to the wing without throwing up again.
A peek into your relationship: After his fiasco, Kyle was invited back every year to embarrass himself and to tell the new hot shot recruits of the horrors that he experienced in the F-15E Strike Eagle. You were ecstatic whenever he texted you about his arrival as that meant you could spend the evenings with him, your boyfriend. "...then we strapped him onto the plane and he passed out upon take off," Kyle joked as you entered the karaoke bar. "I wouldn't laugh at him Garrick or should I remind you of the smell of vomit that you coated me with," you teased and the tips of his ears turned red. "I did make an impression on you," he sheepishly said as you made your way to the booth. You kissed his cheek as you went through the different song selections. Finally, you landed on the perfect one. "Sing with me," you said as you threw the microphone at him. He sipped his beer and joined you as the beginning notes of Don't Stop Believing by Journey began to play. "JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL, LIVIN' IN A LONELY WORLD" he belted and you struggled with the next verse as you were laughing too hard. As the song continued, you both did your best to belt out the verses and also keep from dying of laughter. By the end of it, your voices were hoarse but you continued with all the hit classics as your boyfriend spun you around and shamelessly serenading you.
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sylvaridreams · 11 months
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I'm just like, sylvariposting today. <- I do this every day so whatever.
Anyway running with the "Lala overthrew the Pale Reavers and took off with a bunch of their young recruits to make his own army" idea... I love Lala, he's not "evil" but he is a manipulative person who'll twist others and charm them any way he can to get what he wants. He claims to be a firstborn, a secondborn, whatever he can get away with to posit himself as Higher and Better Than You, somehow. He couldn't do this working with Laranthir in the Pale Reavers because Laranthir knew that was all deceit. So he started scheming behind the true secondborn's back, charming young recruits who had joined the Reavers with hopes of doing good. Well we could do even more good together, you and I. 💚 Just us together. 💚 And eventually he had so many Reavers on his side, he was able to say hey, what do we need the Reavers for, let's go build our own organization over there! ^_^ who's with me! And led some huge chunk of the snipers away like the pied piper.
He has a tendency to flirt to get what he wants. And he's genuinely charming about it, and other sylvari (saplings especially) fall for it and believe that he’s genuinely interested in them specifically, that he only has eyes for them, that he means it when he refers to them as dearheart. Naturally he has zero interest in them. Any of them. But it's so quick and easy to get them in line and doing as he bids when they all believe that he's in love with them too.
(Lychen is immune to his charms. Zero interest. He'll smack Lala to get him to stop when he's coming on too strong to a recruit. "You have to stop flirting with all the new recruits, sir. They're starting to get jealous." "What's to be jealous about!" "Two of the new snipers got in an argument over which was your dearheart, and three others overheard and joined in." "Well they're all my precious dearhearts." "Stop that.")
I'm figuring out right now what Lala and Eldulis' history together is. Eldulis is a genuine secondborn. At some point I feel he was a valiant. Lacrimosen a couple of generations later was maybe a fellow valiant. Maybe Eludlis was his mentor... I think during this time he would have been questioning the validity of the Dream, the Grove, the Pale Tree... all of it starting to look so fake and forced. He was disillusioned with his own Wyld Hunt and wasn't getting any answers from the Firstborn or their mother. He'd confided in Trahearne first that he felt his Hunt wasn't attainable, and had gotten some kind of comforting non-guidance, which had pushed him towards talking to Faolain instead. Why are we doing all of this, sister? To what end does it serve? And she did have guidance, in the other direction. I think Eldulis would have tried to sway Lacrimosen before going fully to the Nightmare Court. Come with me. You have potential in you. Lacrimosen laughed in his face and told him he had no interest in organized cults. So now to this day there's this rift between them where they both think of the other as that fool who made the wrong choice and ended up in some stupid organization that I have no interest in. Were they to actually be forced to sit down and communicate I'm sure they'd be able to be somewhat honest about missing what they once had, when they were friends, but it's something they can never return to--there will only ever be animosity from Eldulis and aggressive flirtation from Lala.
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missnight0wl · 2 years
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If we resign ourselves to the notion of MC's father being R's leader, what do you think of the idea it might've been a recent event? As in, between years four and five recent? It would explain why R was willing to threaten MC's entire family in Jacob's time and why they switched from wanting to kill MC to wanting to recruit them. Twisted as it may be, I could see the Father being willing for one of MC's friends to die rather than his own kid, if the rest of R were to require a death.
It is a pretty interesting idea. But to be honest, I’m not sure it could really explain things better.
I have to say, the Father being willing to threaten one of MC’s friends is definitely less twisted than the Father threatening Jacob that either he obeys R or all the people he loves will disappear. And I get your concept that: the Father got to the top of the hierarchy, therefore he decided that they won’t kill his own child. However... why they wanted to kill MC, to begin with? Why the rest of R would "require a death"? As a sacrifice? But… if they wanted to kill one of MC’s friends, then it had to be about affecting MC personally. So, who would be affected by MC’s death before Y5? Jacob? Also, the problem is not only in that R wanted to kill MC in Y4. They wanted to kill MC because MC didn’t stay away from the Cursed Vaults.
I don’t know, I’m having a pretty hard time putting it together…
Alright, let’s try again. In years 1-4, R wanted to use Jacob for something. I’m sticking to the idea that the siblings are somehow unique and important, and so it has to be them. Now, we could say that R had Jacob imprisoned or maybe they wanted to “rescue” him from the Portrait Vault. Either way, they didn’t need MC to get involved, so they warned the kid first, and eventually, they were ready to kill them. But then, the Father got promoted to the very top, and he was like: “Nope, we’re not killing my child”. However, R still wanted to kill one of MC’s friends because… well, it has to be a requirement for something. Like, I don’t see a different explanation here. I mean, why would they basically led to Duncan’s death otherwise?
So... I suppose it could make some sense?
Another problem I see right away, though, is that Rakepick made it sound more like the current R is responsible for creating the whole organisation, at least in my opinion. And it seems like she talks about one person all that time.
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Like, “the one behind it all”? It does sound to me like: “the one who started it”. Sure, it’s possible that “R” is a title passing from a leader to the next leader – I know that such an idea exists in the fandom, too. Still, it’s a bit odd that Rakepick didn’t even hint at such an option in the recent chapter.
So again, I don’t know. I’m quite torn about this idea. But I think I’d like it better than: “it was the Father all along”.
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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years
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All I Need is You
Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You do so much for everyone else and so little for yourself that when you almost collapse, Loki finally gets you to agree to let him take care of you. Warnings: the reader skips some meals; a lot of fluff A/N: Its really just Loki taking care of you. But please remember to take care of yourselves too everyone!! Hope you enjoy :)
Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02​ @frostedficrecs​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting @mooncat163 @lokislittlesigyn @wolfish-trickster
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Disclaimer: Gif not mine
Loki was watching you even more carefully than normal these days. Yes, you’d caught his eye even on your first day in the Tower back when you were just a new recruit, a SHIELD agent with some kind of sixth sense that let you anticipate things, recently transferred to the Avengers Tower. Even now no one was entirely sure if it was a power or just an uncanny knack you had that made you extremely good at your job. Regardless, the trickster god could see how the ability had shaped you.
You’d only been in the Tower a week when you’d started running errands all over the city, offering things to people before they could even think they needed it themselves, then going to pick it up for them. Loki had declined the offer after hearing all the places you were already going. He’d hoped it was a fluke, that you wouldn’t make it a habit of taking care of everyone. Not that it was inherently bad, he just knew how tiring it could be to please everyone, worried that you would burn out. Of course, you had kept doing it, and his worries turned out to be justified.
“Darling, are you going out again?” Loki asked as you passed his seat in the common room on your way to the elevator. He set his book down, frowning. “Did you not just go yesterday? Unless, of course, this time it is for you. Then by all means, please be on your way.”
“No... It’s just Steve and Bucky were talking about some cereals they used to like and we don’t have any in the Tower so...” you trailed off, shuffling your feet.
“And can they not wait for it until the next scheduled trip to the supermarket?”
“Well, yeah, they said they could. But I don’t mind.”
Loki stood and sighed, walking over to you. Gently, so you didn’t have to comply if you didn’t want to, Loki lifted your chin to look at him. You looked tired. Admirable as it was that you wanted to do things for others, you needed a rest day.
“And tell me, darling, when was the last time you did something for yourself?” He waited a moment for an answer, but was met with silence. “What about that drawing you started two months ago? Have you worked on that more?”
“It wasn’t any good, anyway,” you shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
“It was wonderful,” he reassured you. “What about eating, though? Have you eaten today?”
“I... I had a mint.”
“That does not count.” Now he was outright worried. You did this every once in a while, saying you just got so caught up in other things, you forgot to eat. Whatever the reason, it troubled Loki. “You have had some water at least? You know what, do not answer. I am sure I know already. Just wait here a moment.”
You waited by the lift as Loki padded to the kitchen, searching for a water bottle. The problem went beyond just these shopping trips. Sometimes when Tony or Bruce got stuck on one of their projects, you’d pore over books and blueprints for hours, searching for the answer, losing sleep. Then other times, you took it upon yourself to plan events for the team. It was more than a simple, casual invitation. No, it usually involved at least three days of extensive planning. Everyone enjoyed them and was appreciative, needing a break from their day-to-day lives, but it just took up more of your time and brainpower. Pile that onto your own training and missions, it was enough to wear anyone out.
But what he both loved and hated the most was how you’d always be there to talk. Not just for him, but for everyone. And not merely a laid-back chat, either. No, they were practically therapy sessions. Again, just like all the other things you did, that would be all fine and good, except for the fact you never talked about your own issues. You just did so much for everyone else and practically nothing for yourself, even something so basic as remembering to eat, that it broke Loki’s heart a little more every day.
“Here,” he said, handing you the plastic bottle. “But I am coming with you.”
Smiling brightly, you led the way out into the city streets. You chatted as you went about your task, and Loki was yet to take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t until you started the journey back, however, that he began to grow worried. You hadn’t taken even the smallest sip of the water he’d fetched for you, and on this hot day, it was clearly taking its toll. You stumbled a little, suddenly looking more out of it than Loki could stand. He gently gripped your arm to steady you and led you to a bench. Grabbing the water out of your backpack, Loki uncapped it and held the bottle to your lips.
“Drink,” he ordered, but with kindness in his tone.
One of your hands that was gripping the bench a bit too tightly in an attempt to ground your dizzy mind came up to take the bottle from him. Complying, you downed nearly half the bottle in one gulp. It seemed that was a mistake as your empty stomach gargled, rebelling against the sudden intake. Loki rubbed large circles on your back while you scrunched your eyes closed, breathing deeply as you tried to force yourself to feel better.
“Are you alright, darling?” Loki asked when you felt well enough to take another few small sips. You nodded your head, eyes still closed. “Now do you see why it is important to take care of yourself? Will you please get some rest this afternoon?”
“I’m fine, really. Don’t worry, I-”
“That is madness!” Both Loki and you flinched at his sudden increase in volume. He removed his hand from your back, feeling unworthy to make contact with you after snapping like that. You were his friend, and he was yelling at you for something like this? It made him disappointed in himself. He sighed. “Listen, I am sorry. All I mean is I care about you. I do not like to see you like this. It is not healthy, and I believe you know that.”
You opened your eyes, blinking at him. “You-you care about me?”
Loki felt heat flood to his cheeks as he realized that he had, in fact, said that. “I do. So will you please let me take care of you?”
You bit your lip for a minute. “I will,” you sighed, giving in.
Satisfied, Loki coaxed you into accepting a piggyback ride the rest of the way home. You placed your forehead in the crook of his neck, enjoying his cool skin against yours, which was noticeably overheating. He quickly tossed the grocery bags of cereal onto the counter and brought you to your room, your own little pocket of the world that you trusted Loki enough to share with him if even for a moment. Laying you down on your bed, he told you to rest for a minute, lips placing a ghost of a kiss on your forehead.
The god moved to your bathroom, looking for what he needed. After preparing a bubble bath with nice, cool water, Loki left you to sink into it with only the order to relax. While you did, he hurried to prepare you a light meal, something that wouldn’t upset your stomach. When you padded out of the bathroom in the soft pajamas Loki had left for you and saw the meal on a tray on your bedside table, a smile tugged at your lips.
Loki peeled back the silken sheets he’d put on your bed so you could get under them. With a little bit of difficulty—Loki never had gotten a firm grasp on understanding Midgardian technology—he flipped through the channels on your TV until you found something you wanted to watch while you ate.
“Is there anything else you need?” he asked once you were done eating, before leaving you to your own devices.
You bit your lip as you thought before ultimately shaking your head no. “I’m good thanks.”
“Please, darling, be honest with me,” he pleaded. “Anything you want. Name it, and it is yours.”
“Will you stay with me?” you blurted out. “No, I’m sorry, that’s ridiculous. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
“Darling,” he tsked. “The only thing on my schedule today is taking care of you.”
You smiled as he slid under the sheets next to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap. You twisted your body so you could look at him and tuck a few locks of his raven hair behind his ear. You were living in your own place in time, the two of you finding a safe haven in each other’s arms.
“You know what would make me really happy, Loki?” you began. “If I got to give you a little, thank you. Would that be alright?”
The god hesitated for a moment. “I suppose. Depending on what it is.”
“Can I... Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
“Well, that depends, again.”
“On?”
“On whether or not we can make it a regular occurrence,” Loki replied with a playful grin.
“You know, you are always saying I should do things that make me happy. So yes, yes we absolutely can.”
“In that case,” he said, already leaning in, “what are you waiting for?”
Giggling, you bridged the gap between you. As Loki smiled against your lips, he realized something. No matter how stubborn either of you were when it came to accepting help for yourselves, you’d always have the other to take care of you. And even more importantly, Loki thought, you’d have each other to love.
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anika-ann · 3 years
Text
Just a Human (S.R.)
Type: mini-series turned one-shot, SHIELD recruit!reader
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 8750
Summary: Being a SHIELD recruit was a dream come true, especially with people like Sergeant Barnes or Captain Rogers offering an input to your class’ training.
It was also hard work for many different reasons. One of them being all those guys around; not all of them were exactly fit to become heroes, simply because they were not good people.
Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed it out so openly though. Then again, what would the world turn into if you kept your mouth shut when feeling like speaking up?
WARNINGS: so-so graphic description of assault almost turned sexual, violence and a bit of blood, boys being boys in a real bad way, language
A/N: Steve Rogers vs assholes, round 2. Also, ‘you’ vs. assholes. And Bucky in the mix.
A/N: This was originally posted as a miniseries on AO3, but now edited, I decided to thrown it in as a long, sort-of three part one-shot. Enjoy and mind the warnings.
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(gif source dailymcugifs, divider by firefly-graphics)
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A Handful of Spite
“Can you believe the fucking nerve on him?!” Henry hissed, punching the bag harder and catching your attention. The statement was followed by his companion nodding grimly.
You tried to ignore the walking testosterone jerks; you never liked either Henry or Jim. The reason was simple – they were, as you loved to remind people, an advertisement on toxic masculinity. Bullies on top of that. The kind of people you wanted to avoid at all costs.
You weren’t that lucky to have that chance though.
So instead, you scoffed under your breath and continued your sit-ups series. You had more important things to do than wonder about what they were talking about this time.
It was your regular training session with the other SHIELD recruits led by Sergeant Barnes – which--- oh my. When joining the academy, you had no clue that the director’s ‘you’ll be learning from the best’ meant that of all things; trained by the more-than-once-believed-late James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone here knew his story – or at least some of it. The brainwashing. The murders. His heroics to make up for them as much as he could. His everlasting friendship and a nickname that was tied to it. Bucky; the very best friend of the oh-so-praised Captain America.
Oh, speaking of which, he joined the sessions too. You were being trained by not one, but two supersoldiers slash war heroes. You couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes, but you were not one to dwell on it. You just accepted it as a fact. An abso-fucking-lutely incredible fact.
“He’s just a fucker, man. Forget about Barnes, you have Cassie in your pocket. Just ‘cause he’s all sticky sweet on her doesn’t mean she’ll suck his-“
You made a disgusting face, pushing harder to tune out the conversation. You wanted to gag and at the same time, your blood was boiling.
Could there be a jerk who was objectifying women more than Jim? A guy who was using his lower brain more frequently than him? Doubtful. You really wanted to throw up at rubbish that was leaving his mouth.
Not to mention that he was throwing dirt on Sergeant Barnes who absolutely didn’t deserve it.
“-he’s like that to all of them. The chicks. And they fucking dig him, it’s disgusting. He makes the poor brainwashed kicked puppy face, reminding the sob story of his and they’re all dropping to their knees I swear…” Jim continued, practically spitting the venomous words.
You squeezed your eyes shut, half furious and half guilty; the sergeant did have a heart-breaking backstory and many girls were making eyes on him, their hearts softened by the tragedy and his bravery, yes. And you couldn’t say it wasn’t moving you as well, filling you with compassion – but compassion only. Obviously, Sergeant Barnes was objectively a very attractive man too, but what they were saying… ugh.
He didn’t deserve these insults; he was not trying anything on anyone, he wasn’t offering his ‘sob story’, actually being rather secretive about it for obvious and no doubt painful reasons. He couldn’t really couldn’t be blamed for the girls fawning over him a bit more because of it, could he? What was he supposed to do? Stop breathing? Stop doing what he chose to be his job?
It wasn’t his problem – and thank god for that – that these two assholes had egos the size of Texas and couldn’t handle a little competition.
Seriously. Walking testosterone-filled jerks. You seriously considered moving from the station you had been given, eyeing Captain Rogers, checking if he would notice.
“Well, he’s not. Getting. Any. From. My. Chick. Asshole!”
The bag swung wildly under Henry’s blows despite Jim holding it. You laid off, taking your fifteen second break.
“I bet he’s fucking them all on side. Always so… so soft on them. I bet he’s leaving all the hard shit for bed,” Jim snorted, somewhere between angry at him competition and amused at his own crude joke.
You were gonna puke. You were sure of it.
“And he’s too hard on us. Showing off for them. I would fucking want to see him holding up against us without that metal arm-“
You had enough. You sat up sharply, panting, your face flushed, unsure whether it was from the exercise or the exchange you were listening to.
“Are you serious?!” you hissed their way, earning their shocked glances.
And then, Jim’s face twisted in annoyance and disgust.
“Oh geez, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” he snarked, rolling his eyes. “The fangirls.”
More heat burned in your cheeks. You weren’t kidding anyone; both the sergeant and the captain had showed up in your not so innocent dreams, but you were only human, alright. There was only so much time you could spend with two very fine men like them in one room, a bit sweaty and rough (or just slightly gentler with the ladies) until your brain reacted. Mostly to the captain. Not the point.
But actually crossing the line? Being a part of the thing they were describing if it ever existed? Waiting in the line until one of them picked you for the evening with a promise to do it again after they… Jesus what, tried all the others? No, thank you. You had some dignity left.
Also, you simply couldn’t imagine them doing such thing. Raised in a different era, tried by war and pain and lost, yet remaining the great men they were? Just nope.
“No! Jesus, are you even listening to yourself?” you hissed, minding your volume. You hoped that the low hum of voice in the room, of others working out, giving each other pointers and the noise of the machines would offer you a cover from the rest of your companion.
“What, you wanna tell me they’re not going easy on you? On any chick, really?”
“Yeah, well, maybe because they don’t actually want to break our bones during training. Supersoldiers. Superstrength. Does that ring a bell?” you pointed out, reaching for your water bottle, hoping either of your trainers would forgive you when seeing you only took a sec to have a sip.
Henry scoffed, leaning onto the bag. “Sounds like someone has a crush…”
You couldn’t help the motion of your hands, inconspicuously throwing them in the air in frustration.
Why were you even speaking to them? You should have kept your mouth shut!
“Oh go to hell, Ulrich! You’re just jealous and scared that your girl whom you treat like a piece of shit will run off,” you murmured, wiping your forehead off sweat.
“Yeah, because they’re sure pulling their punches with guys too,” Jim complained again, rolling his eyes as Henry now watched you, eyes narrowed in anger – oh you hit a nail on the head, alright.
You couldn’t but mirror Jim’s action, deciding to stick to Devil’s advocate, because…. yeah, because it wasn’t fair to either Rogers or Barnes. They were good people and didn’t deserve this.
“So they’re not beating the shit out of us like they do with you, get over it.”
“They’re humiliating us! Showing off their big muscles, trying to impress all the chicks-“
You chuckled incredulously as they actually admitted the real reason behind their bitching so openly; as if you hadn’t known the whole time. Ego. Ohhh, the ego was bruised. Call 911, CPR is gonna be needed! God, how did they even live with ego this big? Compensating for something?
“They’re doing their job. Training. Yes, they go a bit harder on you, because your physiology can take it. Did it ever occur to you that they have bigger problems than entering a pissing contest with you just so they could steal the girls? Jeez… just… maybe try to be less of assholes and the girls will be into you too… ”
You missed the hard look Henry gave you, laying down again, this time on your belly to work on your back.
You wheezed when a knee suddenly dug into your back, violently and painfully knocking the air out of your lungs. Before you could react, one of your arms was twisted behind your back, Henry’s voice raspy right into your ear, low and dangerous.
“Listen, you little bitch, you don’t get to talk to me like that. Understand? Huh?”
He was so proving your point, but you didn’t have the time You tried to breathe in properly, and free your arm while pushing up on the free one, your muscles burning with the effort. Shit, he was heavy. You wheezed again instead of the answer.
“Can’t hear you, sweetie. What was that?”
Peripherally, you could see heavy boots approaching rapidly, making a quick guess of who that could be. You gritted your teeth, tears of humiliation pricking your eyes. You were not about to give Henry the satisfaction of proving his point of your trainers being sweet on all the girls even if this so wasn’t that.
“Screw. You,” you let out with the last oxygen left, grabbing his left calf and sharply tugging to the very same side. A half-second later when his weight of you eased just a fraction, you threw your body to the left as well, adding a jerk of your legs.
Both of you rolled over, him ending up under you and you quickly spun away, gasping, desperately fighting for air. As it burned your windpipe, it was as painful as welcomed. Little spots danced inf ornt of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away – luckily for you, Henry didn’t dare to attack you again.
You shook your head before pushing to sit up, only to meet with Captain Rogers’s strict gaze.
“What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded, sharp blue eyes flickering between the three of you.
Maybe you were hallucinating, but he seemed to be murdering Henry with his eyes. Uh-uh. You would have been glad he was, hadn’t Henry been talking about favouritism only few moments ago. You pushed up simultaneously with him and you both stood straight, facing the captain.
“Apologies, sir,” you stated mechanically, his gaze immediately shifting to you. Your heart stopped. Oh wow, you would swear the blue of his irises was on fire. You gulped. “We had a slight disagreement with Mr. Ulrich. I’m aware I shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place. I’ll take whatever punishment is given to me.”
“Yeah, I bet you’d liked taking a punishment from him, wouldn’t you…” Jim muttered under his breath, making your gut twist in disgust.
Was he ever not thinking about sex? You prayed the captain didn’t hear him and you had to stop yourself from shooting Jim a murderous glare.  
“I don’t think that’s necessary. Consider it a warning. Mr. Ulrich? You have something to add before you take a few laps?”
You could literally hear Henry’s blood boiling. You opened your mouth to ask for the same punishment, not wanting to have his point proved. You never got the chance to speak.
“No, sir. I only don’t understand why I’m the only one being punished,” Henry questioned innocently and you gritted your teeth.
Maybe because you attacked me, you dickhead?
Captain glared at him for a moment before his gaze shifted to Jim. “You’re not. Mr. Larkin is following your example.”
You pressed your lips together, this time to stop a smile threatening to spread on your lips. God, who knew America’s Golden Boy could get that sassy? You cleared your throat.
“If I might speak, sir, I deserve to run the laps as well,” you noted carefully, earning a curious expression from your superior. You could tell he wavered, a strange spark appearing in his eyes.
You desperately wanted him to let you run too even if you breathing was still a bit difficult; because otherwise Henry would be proved right. Yeah, nope.
“Very well, then. Ten laps around the gym, recruits. Then you move to the station free at the moment. Go. Don’t let it happen again.”
The three of you nodded dutifully and picked up a pace. For some reason, you could feel the captain’s eyes on you while he walked back to assisting his friend with hand-to-hand training. You glimpsed the sergeant leaning to him, probably asking what was that about, but the blond just shook his head.
Towards the eighth lap, you were being overpassed by Henry and Jim, who ran together; faster than you, whether you liked it or not.
“This isn’t over, bitch,” his hateful hiss reached your ears and you picked up speed stubbornly, not showing them that they might intimidate you even for a second.
They wished.
Even when leaving the room after the session was finished, you would swear there was a pair of blue eyes burning a hole to the back of your head. You hoped that you’d soon be free of the captain’s attention.
You sure didn’t want him to watch too closely. You didn’t need him behind your back to see mistakes you sometimes made just like anybody else. Also, it would be harder to admire and ogle him; you did that occasionally, okay. You were just a human, after all.
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A Handful of Mistakes
Shauna, your roommate and bestie from science division of SHIELD, was very patient listening to your lament about guys being dicks; she was awesome like that.
So you vigorously vented your frustration with male population, rolled your eyes when mimicking the silent threat of ‘this not being over’, had a very unhealthy piece of cake at the cafeteria that afternoon and moved on.  
You should have known better.
Henry’s words came haunting you few days later; which was too bad, because you had already forgotten about them, until the very moment they had punched you to the face.
…or rather to your shoulder and it wasn’t even a punch, more like one of those bumps people did, especially when they were being jerks, shoving you too hard for you to believe it was an accident.
“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” you threw over your shoulder sarcastically, continuing your way to the women’s locker room.
In hindsight, that was probably mistake number one; ignoring Henry and not starting a fight right there, not to mention being mouthy.
To be fair, you had no interest in further interaction; you were exhausted from the training, you were sticky and sweaty and all you craved was a shower. You would have just gone to have one at your dorm, but Shauna was having a hot date and you didn’t want to step on her toes. So you had taken your toiletries with you, using the showers near the gym.
Using the gym shower; mistake number two. It meant all of the students being gone by the time you emerged in fresh homey clothes, hair dripping water, because you hated hair-dryers and avoided them unless they were completely necessary.
You had spent much longer in the shower than needed, allowing your muscles to completely relax under the spray of water. That was mistake number three.
The fourth mistake was your pride. When you saw Henry, Jim, George (at least you thought, you weren’t sure, not having many classes with him) and Frank in the corridor, clearly waiting for you, since they bounced off the wall they had been resting against when you appeared, you should have probably been smarter and scream for help right away.
But no, you were being Miss Future Agent and you weren’t intimidated by four equivalents of high school jocks. Yep, this one was definitely the biggest mistake of yours.
“Fellas,” you beckoned to them, passing them gracefully, your bag over your shoulder along with the wet towel.
You barely made a few steps before a hand gripped your arm, harshly tugging you back. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you tried your best not to let it show. You turned to Henry, looking at his face, head tilted back just slightly due to his height.
“Is there a problem, Ulrich?” you asked calmly, earning a lift of his eyebrows at your tone.
“You know there is. I told you it was not over.”
You tried to ignore your pulse skyrocketing and the panic rising in your gut. You were not that stupid – you understood the implications. You knew that with four guys slowly circling you, you would have to fight bites and nails if it came to it and probably still lose. Sometimes it was just better to walk away and swallow your pride; a concept Henry and Jim clearly didn’t understand.
You jerked from Ulrich’s grip, still hoping you could walk away and call it day.
“It is over for me. Now if you’ll excuse me…“
Yes, you were being naïve thinking it would work.
The bag was torn away from your shoulder, your fingers automatically letting go to stay attached to your hand. You gritted your teeth, blood slowly reaching the boiling point.
Also, maybe you were more than just a bit afraid. Not that you would ever admit it to them.
Henry’s hand reached for your chin and your snatched it away in disgust before he could even make contact with your skin. Amusement dances in his eyes along with a flash of anger.
“Oh, kitty has claws?”
You felt another hand on your backside, sending a shudder up your spine, so you grabbed it, shoving it away as well.
Jim. Why weren’t you surprised? Pigs. What the fuck was their problem?
“I’ll let you know when I meet any. Now get out of my way,” you spat, your gut twisting as a sly grin spread on Henry’s face and he made a step right into your route.
“Or what? You’ll scratch, kitty? Or you’ll scream? Like a little girl?” he mocked you in high-pitched voice, his face lowering to yours so you were only inches apart.
“Bet you’d like that,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes when his breath with an unmistakable hint of alcohol fanned over your face. “No, I’ll offer you a breath-mint, because honestly you should do something about your breath.”
Yep, that was the mistake no.5 and definitely an enormous one.
You heard one of the guys chuckle, but you never got to enjoy the thrill of victory.
Out of blue, there was something around your neck, the weight of the towel shifting (add that to the mistake list) and your body flew backwards, colliding with a male one. George was it?
Your hands went to instinctively grab after the towel crushing your throat, but suddenly they were wrested down and pinned to your sides by strong arms. Jim had caught one, Henry another. Fucking cowards.
With your breath coming out short with both lack of oxygen and rising fear, your pulse thundering in your ears, you tried to jerk from their grip, but they wouldn’t budge, having an undeniable advantage.
Oh fuck, fuck, you were so fucked.
“Sassy little mouth, aren’t we?” Henry hummed, wry expression on his ugly face. “So dirty, feels like we should wash it with something. Who wants to go first, fellas?”
Loud alarm bells rang in your head, icy shiver running down your spine, stomach turning over.
Oh no, you don’t.
Your knee snapped up on instinct to gain the momentum, followed by a swift low kick to Jim’s knee.
He yelped and let go of your arm, allowing you to send an elbow straight to George’s face; and finally, your airways were free as the assault as the towel trap loosened.
You coughed, fighting for oxygen and mindlessly threw the item away to have at least one arm free.
“Bitch!” one of the men yelled; you weren’t sure which one, but you didn’t waste time thinking too much. Survival instinct took over.
Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes and you barely silenced the scream when Henry took advantage of your hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back. Fuck he really had a thing for that, didn’t he?
You tried to kick him, but someone else’s leg somehow managed to swept their leg under yours and you fell on your knees. Sharp tug on your hair caused you to cry out and obediently tilt your head back. Few tears escaped you, but you pushed up in attempt to get up again.
A kick coming from behind threw your body forwards and you nearly fell on your face when Henry finally let go of you. You tasted blood as you bit your cheek, but you managed to at least land on your shoulder instead of face-planting.
It still hurt like a bitch, but at least you still had all your teeth… or you thought so, not having time to check. Catching a movement from the corner of your eye, you managed to roll over before a kick to your side could hit you with full force. Frank’s foot only brushed you, but you were sure you’d have a bruise as a souvenir anyway.
A punch landed next to your face when you dodged it in the last moment, someone grabbing your legs and holding them together. Between your efforts to free them, you didn’t have time to chase away the body suddenly holding your arms as well.
“Fuck--- she’s a handful.”
A ragged battle cry erupted from your throat as you tried to jerk your body from their grip on pure instinct, every self-defence move you had ever learned flying of the window.
“More fun to break her, don’t you think?” Henry purred, his hand sneaking around your waist under the hem of your t-shirt.
Your head spun like crazy at the skin-to-skin contact and nausea hitting you hard. You wanted to puke and scream and punch and you couldn’t make yourself to do either, tears rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed in a desperate attempt to break free.
There was ringing in your ears, disorienting you, but aware of the hand suddenly covering your mouth you tried to bite it on instinct holding you down.
“Oh-ho, biting!“ you heard, strangely muffled as if you were under water.
“I like them feisty-“
“Playing hard to get!”
“Shit, SHIT-“
The pressure on your legs eased all of sudden and you immediately kicked with all you had, catching the rising figure in the calf, knocking them off balance.
“Fuck!”
You would swear the floor vibrated, but in must have only been your mind playing tricks on you. George disappeared from your field of blurry vision; you only saw a fist sending him flying sideways.
Yep, your mind was fucking making up things, because there was no way he could have been thrown away like this by a single punch. You weren’t complaining; the relief the illusion provided was almost blissful.
Henry’s body weight vanished as well in nearly supersonic speed as if he wanted to escape the illusion. So you did the first thing that came to your mind; with your hands free, you grabbed his ankle, stopping him from running away. Which, thinking about it, was stupid, because only a moment before, you would have given anything to get him the fuck away from you.
He kicked back blindly, but his sole never met with your body – he was dragged away and… and lifted to the air as if he weighted nothing.
Blinking your tears away, your fuzzy mind cleared.
Only to reveal a very muscled and very much pissed off blond slamming Henry against a wall and then letting his suddenly unconscious body slide down.
You gasped, your eyes catching a glimpse of the fourth figure – Frank – several feet away, running for his life.
“Buck?!” came a shout and before you could question it, a metal arm emerged from behind the corner, stopping Frank dead as he rushed straight into it.
“Yep?!” the dark-haired supersoldier yelled back, sounding almost amused.
What the hell was happening? What the hell just happened?!
You blood sizzled in your veins, loud and rapid thump-thump-thump banging in your ears, face damp with several shed tears, body aching and your mind fucking racing.
You heard a whimper on your left, automatically turning to the sound. It left Jim’s lips, his form crumbled on the floor, struggling to stand up.
The captain’s knee seemed to come out of nowhere, digging into Jim’s back and pinning him down again before you even registered a movement.
“Is it fucking over now?”
“Steve, let him be. Not worth it,” Barnes’ voice tried to reason, sounding rather growly, but not nearly as loud as before. He approached your group in rapid pace and Rogers scoffed and let go.
You gulped at sergeant’s angry grimace, crazily convinced he was angry with you for all the mistakes you made that lead to this; but his expression softened when his gaze fell on you.
“Hey there,” he greeted you almost casually, holding out a hand to help you up. “Can you stand?”
You blinked several times at the suddenly dispassionate tone, even if you still sensed something bubbling under it. You shook off the thought and accepted the offered hand – the flesh one. The detail didn’t escape you, your bran in overdrive. Of course he hadn’t offered you the metal arm. He didn’t want to scare you. He was thoughtful like that-
-or not. The strength he dragged you up with was way too much for you, more so when combined with the speed and your state. You stumbled over your feet, a wave of dizziness messing with your balance.
You awaited the upcoming reunion with the floor, unable to stop the fall, but it never happened. Before you could as much as reel, gentle hands supported you in a firm grip, pleasantly warm against your bare arms.
“Whoa, take it easy,” Rogers’ voice warned you, soothing. For some reason, it felt more like ‘I got you,’ instead of ‘take it easy.’
You took a deep breath, Barnes’ hand letting go of yours as he semi-voluntarily handed you over to his friend.  
“You’re bleeding from your mouth.”
Thanks for the reminder, I noticed.
You swallowed the snarky remark, well-aware of the sergeant’s care. You fought against the urge to spit the blood out.
“Is fine…” you muttered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Bit my cheek. I’m pretty sure I—“ you quickly ran your tongue over your teeth just to confirm your theory, “-still have all of my teeth.”
Sergeant Barnes gave you a tiny smile, the worried crinkle that had found its way between his brows disappearing.
“Whatever you say.”
His gaze flickered to something behind your head, probably in order of exchanging a wordless conversation with your still present crutch. Not that you were complaining. The weight of what had happened was slowly settling on your shoulders and you were grateful for any support – and who were you kidding, Captain America made for a pretty reliable support.
“Why don’t we leave you in pu- Cap’s capable hands while I-“ Barnes’ jaw clenched, pale eyes scanning the four bodies on the floor, calculating. “-take out the trash?”
You nearly choked at the choice of his words, wincing. Captain Rogers’ hands squeezed your shoulders reassuringly and you nodded, not sure what else to do.
You didn’t want to look at Henry. Or Jim. Or their loyal companions.
So when the captain carefully spun you on your heels, you didn’t protest and your feet started moving on autopilot in the direction he had set.
“You okay to walk without support?” he asked softly, a stark contrast to the voice you remembered from earlier or from the training sessions.
You knew that if you said yes, he would let go of you. Honestly, his touch felt damn nice, firm and yet somewhat gentle, a pleasant contrast to harsh fingers of the men who had the nerve to attack you – you had to swallow bile rising to your mouth at the awfully fresh memory. Fuck, it had been so close, just a minute later and--- you shook your head mentally and tried your best to erase this memory from existence.
You decided not to abuse the kindness the captain was offering. After several indulging steps, you quietly confirmed he could release you. You found out that sensing his large frame by your side as if he was your bodyguard was nearly as comforting. Nearly.
You didn’t have the strength admonish yourself for basking the light of his protective persona. Future agent of not, you still had the right to want to feel secure at times.
After all, you were only human.
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A Handful of Truths
You didn’t realize you were shaking until a blanket was tossed over your shoulders.
You were sitting on a short couch in what looked like a cosy office, hair still damp, body finally registering the ache caused by previous events, just like your brain was slowly taking in what had happened.
Captain Rogers, whose courtesy was to escort you from the hellhole you had been attacked in, had clearly took it as a personal mission to take care of your injuries; it hadn’t dawned to you until you were seated and your mind helpfully supplied you with ‘This isn’t the infirmary’.
He pulled a swivel chair to sit face to face with you, a box of medical supplies left open on the coffee table at your side. You didn’t realize he had moved the chair or dug the box from god-knew-where until the items were simply there.
“How do you feel?” he inquired, attentive eyes scanning your hunched form. You instinctively curled onto yourself, snuggling further into the blanket. You knew you should come up with an answer, but your brain started to hurt with the effort to do so. “I guess that’s fair. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”
You quickly glanced at his openly kind face, his baby blues still watching for any reaction that would clue him. Your throat went dry at the compassion of display and you had to swallow before speaking – and think. What hurt the most…?
You didn’t know what possessed you to tell him what you did, but it came out before you could stop yourself.
“My pride,” you croaked, causing his eyebrows jump just like the corner of his lips.
“That’s probably fair too. Then again, I’d rather know about something I can fix.”
You felt your body relax a little at his informal tone – you might even say a jovial one, but you could still sense too much worry behind it to call it that. You attempted a tiny smile at least to show him that you were more or less fine – you weren’t – and brilliantly failed.
“Landed on my shoulder. Probably gonna have a bruise on my side from when… when they kicked me. Ribs and arms might be a bit tender for few days, ‘cause they were heavy as they--- they’re heavy,” you voice wavered as you saw the muscles on the captain’s forearms clench and his hands curled up in fists. You sheepishly looked up to his face. “I got lucky.”
His eyebrows rose again in a ‘figures’ manner as he leaned back to the chair.
“Nothing else apart from that, your cheek and your pride?”
“I’m a little cold, but you took care of that,” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you tugged on the blanket pointedly.
Despite what you were saying, you didn’t feel okay, the tremble never quite leaving your body. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. You stared at your knight in shining armour, gathering courage to do what was needed. You tried your best to meet his gaze, feeling so small and embarrassingly weak in front of him.
“Could have been much worse if you haven’t showed up. Thank you.”
He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He leaned in, his elbows on his knees.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster... I should have kept closer eye on Ulrich,” he muttered under his breath, making you wonder if you only imagined it. “Your pride shouldn’t be hurt. You held yourself against them just fine.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the honestly his voice held – and you were honestly grateful for the slight shift of attention. Oh. Had he forgotten how things had been when he had arrived?
You weren’t sure whether you should remind him. You definitely didn’t want to remind yourself, but before you could solve your little dilemma, he clarified.
“You haven’t started training the combat against multiple opponents yet. Let alone four opponents, all of them having both height and weight advantage. You couldn’t exactly go all Black Widow on them if no one showed you how.”
He accented his words with a reassuring smile and you almost believed him. The shivers finally eased, most likely thanks to the warm treatment you were being given in all senses of the word. The inner cold gradually melted and you were left in nothing but pleasant warmth.
Mentally, you patted your pride gently on its head; you couldn’t quite disagree with him. No matter how helpless you had felt earlier and how ashamed for it you were, the truth was you were still learning. You weren’t a finished agent yet.
You breathed in and out, avoiding the gaze that was still on you. It felt like a freaking brand with how intense it was. You couldn’t say you hated it necessarily, you only wished you at least didn’t look so pathetic. No make-up, probably red with a smudge on blood somewhere, perhaps with some bruising already forming, hair wet and messy. You absently ran your fingers through it in attempt to fix it a bit as if it could help.
What had you been talking about? Right… those assholes being cowards and coming at your four against one.
“I… I just fucking hate bullies,” you grumbled darkly, your hand immediately covering your mouth when you realized what you had said. Oh. Language. Still your superior you’re talking to, no matter how nice. “Sorry. Please, pretend you didn’t hear the f-word. I just hate bullies, period.”
“I might have sworn earlier too, so let’s call it even,” the captain offered, one corner of his lips raised. Oh. He had, hadn’t he? ‘Is it fucking over now?’ What did that even mean? “And so I heard.”
“What?” you yelped, your mind racing again in search for the meaning behind his words.
“I mean… I heard you. When you were defending Bucky, in the gym. I’m pretty sure your exact words were about a ‘pissing contest’.”
“Oh god,” you breathed out, your face no doubt set aflame. He had heard you; that was why he had said he should have kept a closer eye on Henry. Oh. Ohhhh.
Also, did he just say ‘pissing’?
“You weren’t wrong by the way. But… neither were them.”
You blinked in surprise. What? “About?”
You knew he didn’t mean the sleeping around with recruits, your gut was screaming that at you, because they wouldn’t, but still, you rather asked for clarification. If he didn’t mean that part, which one then?
“Ladies do fall over for Bucky,” he hummed with a lopsided smile, a playful twinkle in his eyes. It did something to your belly, a strange familiar shift that was very inappropriate, but hell, people needed to cut you some slack. He was impossible not to ogle and you didn’t have the energy to control your reaction after today’s events. “And I don’t really pull my punches when I’m training those two in particular.”
“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and think better of it.
His gaze bored into yours, burning with intensity and with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“I don’t like bullies either.”
Did he lean in even more or were you so focused on his face it only seemed closer?
You weren’t able to look away. His blue eyes simply locked you in, not allowing you to escape. The strangest thing was that it wasn’t scary. It should be, he was— he was a freaking captain, your superior, a superior to a lot of people, which you were constantly forgetting ever since he had saved you from falling on your ass in the hallway and you had to remember that.
Before you could though, your racing mind packed up and let your body, your mouth to be precise, act without supervision.
“Not trying to impress the ladies then, huh?”
His tiny sheepish smile cut off the uprising panic in your chest when you realized how bold of you was to say that. He lowered his gaze, giving a subtle shrug. “Guess I wouldn’t want one falling for guy’s muscles and a show-off of dominance.”
“What for then? Honesty? Sincerity? Kind eyes? Strong moral compass?” you heard yourself prying, internally horrified how far you had come when saying that. Your face was drained of colour when it clicked. You were literally naming things you liked about him, absolutely shamelessly putting them in the open. Oh shit. Fix it, fix it, fix it! “…the sass?”
His eyes went wide and he burst out laughing so loud it startled you for a second, especially as he threw his head back with the outburst. Then you reluctantly joined him, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.
“The sass!” he howled, unable to hold back another fit of laughter and when you peeked at him through between your fingers, you saw his palm resting against his chest as if it could help him stop laughing.
Just like that, blood rushed back into your cheeks.
“Oh god, I made it worse!” you cried out, wishing for the earth to swallow you, frantically looking around for the fastest escape route. “Oh my god, I have to switch schools now… excuse me-“
You hastily got up from your seat, but a quick hand snatched yours, pulling you back.
You stumbled, landing ungracefully right back in your place, this time without the blanket. Captain Rogers was watching you with the corners of his lips high, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Sorry for grabbing you like that. But no, please. Stay.”
Your throat closed off when you heard his soft plea, only traces of humour in it. Yeah, you bet he hadn’t met anyone with such big mouth for a while, so he thought it was better to keep the comic around.
“Captain Rogers, I-I- what I said, it was completely out of line-“ you stuttered, only to be interrupted.
“Were you making it up?” he questioned.
You gulped, your mind screaming at you to say yes to save you the humiliation. And yet, with the cerulean irises staring into your eyes, your mouth did the exact opposite.
“No.”
Dammit.
“Then why would you go?” he questioned softly. His hand still didn’t leave yours, only easing the grip into a kinder one. You felt like a brand was being burned into your skin. A pleasant one, so you didn’t retreat. Oh, you’d never. But what on Earth was he getting at? “We need someone honest like you. People who stand up for others, even if only to defend their honour. That is the kind of people who should be in this line of work. The good ones.”
You opened your mouth, no sound coming out as his speech shook you to your core, tickling your stomach pleasantly along with your pride. His words seemed to be coming from heart, genuine, which was not helping your blood pressure and suddenly wobbling limbs.
“Even when they have potty mouth and put their foot in it? ‘Cause I seem to excel in that.”
“Especially then,” he chuckled and you could tell there was no pinch of a lie in it.
Something was in the air, crackling deliciously, and you liked it. You wouldn’t be able to describe it properly, the feeling simply too unique, but it was tickling your fancy so weren’t about to complain.
“O-okay. Thank you, Captain,” you whispered, revelling in the sight of the gentle curve of his lips.
“You started with the compliments, Agent.”
And just like that, you wanted to run for your life again, drowning in embarrassment.
What were you even still doing here? Complimenting him? Enjoying his touch? Flirting with him?
Were you nuts?!
Him, a captain— no, the captain. And you, an agent--- hell, you were not even an agent yet!
The captain whose eyes flickered to not-an-agent’s lips for the shortest of moments, widening a fraction before returning to her eyes.
Oh, now you were definitely going nuts. You were hallucinating. You must have hit your head too. He wasn’t into you and you being into him was very stupid.
You should go.
…any moment now.
…just get off your ass for god’s sake-
“Can I ask you something?”
You blinked yourself back to reality, shushing the voice in your head, curious smile appearing on your lips involuntarily. The softness of his voice felt better than the blanket before and you wanted to cocoon yourself in it, postponing the leaving plans to never.
“Sure,” you replied, the smile remaining on your face despite your better judgement.
He lowered his eyes to your joined hands, his thumb running over the back of your hand in a feather-light touch. You heart positively stopped at the moment, your breath hitching. Holy shit, what was he doing?
“This, does it… do you hate it?” he whispered the question, not meeting your eyes as if he was too shy, which was… ridiculous. He had no reason to be shy.
It still felt like a shot through your heart – a nice one, though, it that was possible. The words combined with the way they were spoken, it stirred something in your belly, warming it up and you couldn’t deny it anymore.
You really wanted this man; whatever this was, it was getting beyond a silly crush. Also, for some reason, it seemed as if he was trying to tell you he was interested too, which you thought was pretty freaking crazy.
“Stay honest, please,” he pleaded when you didn’t answer right away.
Did you hate it? The chastest display of affection if you dared to call it that? Your mind raced, trying to figure out why on earth he would ask that. Because the only reason you had come up with so far was completely impossible.
“No,” you said simply, earning a brief glance up before he looked down again. His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Good. That’s good… and would you… I’m aware this is out of line and I—I want you to answer truthfully without fearing the consequences-…“
It was your turn to swallow loudly, because what? What did he want to ask that he considered it out of line? He was your superior – you could think of thousand ways of how you could get out of line, but him? And why should you fear the consequences?! Did he want you to help him to hide a body?
That’s not it and you know it. You know what he wants to ask, you rational side admonished you.
Oh please, shut up. Since when you switched sides?
“O-okay. What— what is it-- Steve?” you stuttered out, freezing when his name left your lips and his head snapped up, his hand giving yours a squeeze. Oh boy.
“Would you possibly say you like it?” he blurted out and your brain went to overdrive at the hope behind his expression.
Huh. He really just asked that. Oh shit. Oh wow. Your jaw fell into your lap – only figuratively, you hoped –, your ears buzzing, your blood bursting in excitement.
Oh yeah, you understood why he mentioned the consequences. Either you could say no and you’d fear he might treat you differently or you could say yes and you’d ‘fear’ he might treat you differently.
The fire in your insides burned hotter at the idea of the latter.
His hand slowly left yours, giving you a simple choice you still couldn’t believe you were given.
Holy shit. What do you even say to something like that? Coming from someone like him? Your brain froze as you only managed to stare.
Did his— did the corners of his lips turn down? Was that sadness pooling in the sea of blue of his eyes?
Oh no, you don’t.
“Y-yes,” you admitted sheepishly, closing your eyes at the heaviness of your confession.
You could feel the weight on your shoulders as silence fell, only interrupted by your soft breathing that sounded ominously loud.
Your fingers twitched when his warm palm covered them again, your lips parting in surprise. You kept your eyes closed, indulging the strange moment. His free hand caressed your other as well, the gentlest of touches, tender, contrasting with rough callouses on his fingers.
“I like it too.”
At that, you gathered enough courage to look at him, only to see him inspecting your face closely, observing your reactions. It shocked you that it wasn’t uncomfortable as you would expect; must have been the kindness and wonder in his gaze. You forced your lips to curl up in a tiniest smile. Steve smiled back with same hesitance, his face lighting up.
He looked like a boy next door (making it to a modelling agency), shining eyes and happy grin forming on his lips. He was more gorgeous than ever.
Still keeping your hands, he raised his right one, his knuckles brushing your unharmed cheek. The gesture was so tender it brought tears into your eyes, causing him quickly retreat.
“Sorry-“
You shook your head with a self-deprecating chuckle, squeezing his fingers before he could let go of you completely.
“It’s not you—I mean… it is you,” you babbled nonsensically, taking a breath to gather your thoughts. “It’s just— that was really sweet. No, that’s not-“ Not the right word. “It was beautiful. I swear I never felt so…” loved “-cared for in my life.”
He frowned, a shadow of pain running over his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that today was… unpleasant.”
Seeing his reluctance and discomfort, you went for the first thing that came up to your mind. You straightened up and pressed a light kiss on his cheek, withdrawing much slowly because once you were in his orbit, it was hard to leave.
His breath hitched, his eyes glued to you intently, flickering to your lips again.
“You didn’t upset me, Steve. That’s the last thing you could do with that,” you assured him, face still inches from his. His name rolled off your tongue easily this time, even though it still left your heart fluttering.
“And if I asked you to have dinner with me?”
Your stomach twisted in a pleasant knot at that suggestion, your lizard brain already thinking about having a dessert for a second; and you weren’t thinking cake or ice-cream.
Yeah, barely. This was a guy ready to treat you right, you were sure of it. He certainly wasn’t about to kiss you now, not afar what happened today, he might go for it after the dinner and that was only if you got lucky enough. You swallowed the disappointment at the idea, quickly shaking it off.
Make up your goddamn mind, woman. You should be glad that men who weren’t thinking with their lower brain still existed and one of those was clearly interested in you, which… yeah, what the hell, that might take a while getting used to. Add the fact that he was being incredibly considerate of how you might feel after being assaulted and you had a winner of your heart. You realized you were actually happy he wouldn’t try anything even nearly ‘funny’.
You were fine with hand-holding and brushes of his fingers on your face, which honestly, the tenderness behind that gesture made you toes curl. You didn’t care much if that made you a freaking sap.
“Still not upset,” you gave an answer at last, deciding he probably liked when you were a bit cheeky.
He offered a closed lipped smile in response, confirming your theory.
“Does that count like a yes?”
You shrugged, the corners of your lips twitching. You had no idea when the change had happened, but all you wanted now was to giggle. And maybe snuggle, but you weren’t about to say that out loud.
“You tell me.”
He licked his lips and shook his head as he retreated. Before you could protest – or have a heart attack, because the motion of his tongue attracted your gaze like a magnet, setting your core on fire –, he sat beside you, leaving enough space in case you didn’t like it.
You liked it, subtly moving an inch closer to his side. Damn, he radiated warmth. Maybe just a bit closer…?
“Cheeky dame, aren’t you?” Steve more stated than asked, reaching for the blanket pooled around you to cover you again.
You didn’t realize you had goosebumps before his hands gently tugged you in, careful not to touch you where you could consider it inappropriate.
Yeah, forget about any funny business any time soon.
You huffed. “Clearly. It did get me into trouble before.”
His eyes darkened a bit, his face noticeably falling.
No, nope, bad move, miss not-an-agent.
“I should walk you back to your dorm,” he remarked, already rising to his feet.
You first reaction was to say no, because you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Your second was to say no also, because Shauna probably still had her hot date.
Instead, your hand shot up to catch his, effectively stopping him. He froze before returning to his seat, tiny question mark in a place of his face right next to his soft smile.
You cleared your throat, deciding to give him the latter reason.
“Uhm… my roommate has a date. If I go there, I’ll probably find a sock on the doorknob,” you admitted, biting your lip when he raised an eyebrow and relaxed to the cushions.
“People still do that?”
You chuckled, the fact that not only he was a captain, but also Captain America, which meant he was about hundred years old, hitting you like a train.
“Yeah, people still do that,” you assured him, amused.
He pouted, which you found unfairly adorable and… kissable. Nope, later.
“Sure, make fun of the old man…” he uttered, but a spark of laughter lighted up in his irises, so you assessed he wasn’t too offended. He was most likely used to the teasing.
As an idea of interpreting his words differently popped in your mind, you grinned.
“Is that a permission to make fun of Sergeant Barnes?” you pried playfully, sending Steve into another surprised fit of laughter, not unlike when you had complimented his sass. Your heart swelled at the joyful picture of him and the prospect of seeing more of it in future.
Due to his laughter, you didn’t hear he knock on the door if there was any n the first place. The door simply swung open, revealing the other supersoldier. Speak of the Devil…
Seeing his friend, Steve burst out laughing once more. Sergeant Barnes closed the door with a puzzled look.
You just shrugged in response, opening your mouth without a sound coming out and he took in the scene in front of him again, a smirk appearing on his lips. Under that gaze, you felt your face heat up. You could only imagine how that looked like, Steve cosily close to you, laughing, your hand right next to his thigh as his outburst had sent it sliding from his hand.
The smirk on the supersoldier’s face only deepened when he noticed how flustered he had made you.
“Punk?” he questioned and Steve wheezed once more, raising a palm in the sergeant’s direction, turning to you first.
He offered you a hand to shake. Confused, you accepted as his eyes twinkling in mischief bored into yours.
“Deal,” he mouthed, sending your lips twitching, and only then he shifted his attention to his friend. “Buck?”
The supersoldier had his eyes narrowed, watching you suspiciously.
“I’m gonna regret sending you with her instead of doing it the other way around, aren’t I?” he stated, not actually asking as his gaze flickered between the two of you.
His expression pushed you over the edge and the giggle building up in your chest for the last few minutes finally broke free. You simply couldn’t contain it anymore despite having two superiors in the room. Steve gave you a warm smile as the sound left your lips, clearly not bothered by it.
You hoped you’d be forgiven by Sergeant Barnes as well. After all, you were just human.
“Yeah, Buck, I think you are.”
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S.R. masterlist
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Sorry for the cavities at the end. Or should I say ‘you’re welcome’? Whatever works for you :))
Thank you for reading! 
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Note
I always wondered how the foxes would react to finding out that it was andrew that "hit on" neil first (specially Kevin, since he was just standing right there while that happened)
(now, i don't think they would willing just talk about it but if one of them slip up...)
Btw: i absolutely adored the goodbye kisses series
AHHH sorry for being so MIA lately but i'm absolutely loving this! also i'm realizing that i'm very bad at actually getting to the point so enjoy a shit ton of irrelevant exposition :)
read it on ao3 here
— ··· —
Kevin didn't understand why they had to come to the zoo. It was smelly, there were kids screaming everywhere, and he'd nearly been stepped on three times in the past 10 minutes. He much rather preferred exy to this.
Team bonding sucked.
He trudged along beside Aaron as Dan, Matt, and Nicky actually tried socializing with the new Foxes. Normally, Kevin would jump at the chance to talk about exy with these recruits, but also, normally he didn't feel like he'd just just rolled through a flaming dumpster filled with screeching, pooping monkeys.
Kevin let out a sigh as they passed some sort of mildly interesting snake exhibit. He nudged Aaron, who was on his phone with a red face, which meant he was either texting lovey-dovey things to Katelyn or blasting an idiot in his Ochem class. You never really knew with him.
"Aaron."
Aaron just scowled at him. Kevin sighed again. Conversing was always so much more exhausting than he anticipated.
"Snakes."
"What."
"Do you want to... see the snakes?"
Aaron blinked in confusion. "Okay?"
Kevin led them to the snakes.
There, they shoved past some families and made it to the front of the glass enclosure.
"Well?" Aaron asked. "Now what do we do?"
Valid question, Kevin thought. He hadn't really considered what they were doing. He just wanted to see snakes.
He told Aaron as much, who rolled his eyes aggressively and went back to his phone.
Kevin felt a tap on his shoulder and twisted around, coming face-to-face (well, more like chest-to-face) with some sort of tour or information guide.
"Hi!" she smiled all too brightly. Kevin wanted to cover his eyes. "How are you enjoying the exhibition?"
"Um," Kevin gulped eloquently, then remembered his media training. "Oh yeah, it's great!"
"Awesome," she beamed. "You know, there's a snake feeding session in about 5 minutes if you and your son are interested."
Kevin's face contorted in confusion. He whirled around, assuming some tiny, lost child was latched near him, but when he turned back, the lady — Sandy — had her gaze intensely focused on the only other small person near him: Aaron.
Oh dear.
Aaron seemed to come to the same conclusion as Kevin did because his eyes widened comically and he hissed "I. am. not. his. son."
Sandy blinked owlishly. "Little brother then?"
Aaron threw his hands up. "I am 21! Leave me alone." He then proceeded to stomp out of the enclosure, dragging Kevin along and leaving a very flummoxed old lady behind them.
"I can't believe it," Aaron kept muttering. "Your son. Your son! I hate life."
Kevin was a bit miffed that he hadn't actually been able to see the snakes, but he figured Aaron's plight was slightly more significant than that.
After a few moments of silent walking (Kevin) and angry grumbing (Aaron), Kevin realized he couldn't see any of the Foxes anymore. He glanced around, instinctively searching for Andrew.
"Hey, do you know where Andrew and Neil went?" Kevin asked.
Aaron scoffed. "They're probably making out somewhere."
"Who's making out?"
Aaron and Kevin both gave unholy screeches as they turned around to find Nicky standing between them, a wide, innocent grin on his face.
"What the fuck," Aaron complained. "Don't do that again, you bitch."
Nicky waved him off. "Shut up. Who's making out? Might be able to close some bets."
Kevin rolled his eyes. "We just can't find Andrew and Neil anywhere. Aaron seems to believe they're off deflowering a zoo Port-A-Potty or something."
"Well then, we wouldn't want to interrupt them, right?" Nicky winked. "Anyways, we're all going to the butterfly exhibit right now so y'all have to join us. I'm not taking no for an answer."
It seemed that they had no choice, so after sharing a resigned glance, Kevin and Aaron trudged behind an overly enthusiastic Nicky while he babbled on about some parrots that he saw. It really didn't seem as interesting as Nicky was making it out to be, but Kevin didn't want to say anything lest he was expected to participate in the conversation too.
They finally reached the butterfly exhibit where the other Foxes were waiting for them. They entered as a mass of loud, mildy buff, smelly athletes and got more than a few glares from the parents of young children who moved out of the way.
But in all this movement, the path cleared and Kevin found... Andrew and Neil? He was about to turn to Aaron and tell him that they evidently not making out, until he noticed how still Andrew was standing and the glee on Neil's face.
Nicky's gaze caught onto them a second later, because he squealed and grabbed Kevin's arm, jabbing his finger at the sight.
"Oh my God," he whispered. "Is that a butterfly on Andrew's nose? That is adorable."
Kevin squinted, and yes, that's exactly what it appeared to be. Nicky's outburst had caught Allison's attention, and she began marching over to Neil and Andrew, the rest of the Foxes in tow.
Kevin could already tell this was going to be a mess.
When they finally reached Andrew, Aaron was the first to speak. "What the fuck?" he asked flatly. Andrew glared at him. Slowly, as to not move the butterfly, he raised his hand to gently flip off his brother.
Nicky immediately started cooing. "Aww, don't worry Andrew! I think you look adorable."
Andrew began slipping out a knife.
On Allison's left, Kevin saw Dan practically shaking with laughter as she pulled out her camera and snapped a picture.
Neil opened his mouth, probably to tell off Dan but Nicky rushed in to talk to him.
"Soooo," he waggled his eyebrows. "I didn't know you could see the future, Neil."
Neil stared at him blankly and turned back to Andrew as he pulled out a map, but Nicky rallied on.
"Like, you must have been able to predict that one day Andrew was going to be this adorable. That's why you asked him out, right?"
"What?" Neil asked distractedly. "I never asked him out."
Kevin blinked in surprise. After a moment's consideration, he realized that considering how utterly oblivious Neil could be, it really was no shocker that Andrew had to ask him out first.
"Wait wait wait," Matt shook his head. "So Andrew asked you out?"
Neil waved them off as he continued squinting at the map he was holding. "Yes yes, just go ask Kevin, he was there."
All eyes turned to Kevin. Kevin was very lost.
"What the fuck," Aaron repeated. "I'm so confused."
"Me too," Kevin muttered. "Me too."
— ··· —
After their long day at the zoo was over, the Foxes finally began the trudge back up to their respective dorms. The younger Foxes dozed off immediately, but the older Foxes gathered in the girls' room to drop off the bags they had borrowed for the trip.
In all the commotion, no one really noticed Andrew and Neil leaving together. But right before they slipped out the door, Renee caught sight of them.
"Good night, you two!" she called. Neil turned around and gave her a tired wave, his body slumped on Andrew.
"Wait!" Nicky scrambled off the sofa. "Before I forget: Neil, how did Andrew ask you out?"
Neil blinked sleepily. "Well," he slurred. "He asked if he could blow me."
The room went silent.
Andrew heaved a sigh and dragged Neil out the door, leaving seven wide-eyed, very much awake athletes in their wake. Slowly, everyone turned to Kevin.
"You!" Allison weakly jabbed a finger in his direction. "You knew about this!"
Too late, Kevin realized what Neil's statement meant. Andrew had asked out Neil in front of Kevin. By offering sex. Nothing could have possibly ruined Kevin's night as much as this information had.
He met the Foxes' eyes slowly. Even Renee looked a bit surprised at Neil's admission, but she was clearly biting back a smile. "Trust me," Kevin groaned. "If I had known this had happened, I would have won myself so many bets."
"Damn," Nicky sighed. "I wish Erik and I had such an iconic story. Who knew the quiet, stabby cousin was such a horny gay bastard?"
"I," Aaron announced hotly. "have never wanted to forget a conversation more than this one."
"But Aaron. Andrew asked to blow him."
"Nicky, I swear— "
"OH MY GOD. They're probably having sex right now! Kevin, could you— "
Aaron put his head in his hands. "Please shut up now."
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gotnofucks · 3 years
Text
Compromise
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Paring: dark!August Walker x Reader
Summary: Your surrender to him would ensure the safety of the world.
Words: 2.9k
Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, smut, violence, blackmail and manipulation, 18+ ONLY
MASTERLIST
+++++
The doorman helped you out of the car, your hand firmly clasped in his gloved one as you steadied your feet in your high heels. The cold made gooseflesh rise on your arms and back, the little hair standing up in the breeze. You clutch your coat closer, following your escort inside the hotel and exhaling deep in the elevator. You were nervous, not something unfamiliar. But you were also scared, something that could prove fatal in your line of work.
As the elevator dinged, announcing the top floor that opened in front of you, you almost didn’t step out. The whole thing felt off, the bodice of your dress hugging you tight and making it difficult to breath. And yet when your escort waved you forward, you followed behind him, the floor length skirt of your dress softly swishing on the marble floors and your heels tick-tocking against them.
The man led you past a number of unmarked doors before stopping before an ornately carved doorway, intricate vines twisting on its surface to form a beautiful design. The man gave three sharp knocks and pushed the door open, bowing a little as you entered but not following. The clicking shut of the door made you flinch, and you looked around at the room in awe.
It was a beautiful room, large with the opposite wall made completely of glass, the night sky twinkling at you as the distant city lights burned small like tiny candle flames. There was a round table in the center of the room, draped in silver and black silk tablecloth and set with two chairs. Against the right wall sat a large four poster bed similarly laid in black sheets and sheer white curtains tied to the posts.
You swallowed uneasily, walking inside with as little noise as possible. The invitation, glittery silver ink on black polished paper burning a hole inside your handbag. It was worded so wisely, disguised as a dinner invitation, and yet bearing the marks of someone who could destroy your life. The code was easy to break, and as you read between the polite lines of invitation and gazed at the secret code for your covert mission, your hands trembled. You don’t tremble much. You learnt not to when you joined this task force as an agent.
And yet, the knowledge that someone knew about you and your mission made your fingers curl up for warmth inside your palm. The future of millions was depending on this mission, and this mission depended on you. If you failed, the world would fall, and you will live the rest of your life bearing the blood of endless lives on your soul.
When he stepped out from the shadows that concealed the door behind them, you gasped. Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised, but you were. The blue green eyes you had looked at everyday for the past few months gazed back at you, amused, analyzing.
“Hello Agent, a fine evening isn’t it?”
August had always been polite, always sincere. He was the one person you thought was innocent in this whole operation. He was just a CIA operative; he was an agent who got recruited into something they didn’t know the truth about. Yet, he stood before you with a smile gracing his lips beneath that bushy mustache and the dimple on his chin barely visible under his beard. He was donning a sharp black suit matching with the room esthetics, and he cocked his head at you, pulling out a chair as an offer.
“You look lovely, let me take that coat.”
You let him remove your coat, rubbing your arms as you silently took the seat he offered. In this large room, with the dark décor, his huge beefy body made him appear sinister, like a dragon who was overlooking his hoard.
“I didn’t expect you.” You commented, taking a sip of the water in front of you. Just like that, your fear was gone. The nerves before the mission vanished as you came back into your element. The field was your battleground, and you knew you owned it. August smiled, sitting across from you.
“Oh, I know, and that was your mistake. Or maybe it was my success. I am not completely innocent but –”
“– you don’t exactly scream a genocidal maniac either.” You completed for him. He was good.
August Walker walked the fine line when it came to being an agent. While he was courteous and polite, he was also easy to anger. You’d seen him in action, fighting off men twice his bulk with barely an effort, the faintest tinge of amusement in his eyes as he watched them bleed. Espionage was a rough life, and many agents went in over their head to deal with the bloodshed and cruelty they witnessed. You didn’t think he was naïve, but you also didn’t think him evil.
“Where did I go wrong?” You asked him, genuinely curious. You were so meticulous with everything; each move you made was calculated. You had to be brilliant to be handed a mission as important as this.
August splayed his hands on the table that was curiously empty of any food, only two glasses of water and two empty wine glasses with a bottle of wine sitting in the center.
“Nowhere truly. You were so fascinating to look at though. In fact, I think that had I not been looking so closely at you, I would have missed the little signs.” His voice was smooth and soft, level. Eyes never leaving yours, but then again, they barely left you before. You knew he was watching you, but you had thought it was natural for someone to keep an eye on the new addition of the team.
“Little signs?”
“The first time I noticed something was when you tapped that tattoo near the crook of your elbow. You did that often, I though it was a nervous tick. I thought it was cute.” He continued, and both your eyes strayed to the small Celtic shield tattoo that was inked over the scarred skin hiding the small chip under your skin. Your eyes met his and he smirked.
He had known all those times you touched it to send out messages in morse code, to send out locations. He had known, but never let on.
“What else?” You wanted to know, if only to stall the rising trepidation in your belly. Did you compromise everyone in your team?
“Your eyes.” He said, almost breathlessly and for a moment it became difficult to maintain the eye contact. “Your eyes were such a lovely shade when I first saw you, sparkling. I love how expressive they are, how they seem to glitter. But when you wore the smart lenses, they seemed different. Maybe not to others, but to me. I knew exactly where you have flecks in your eyes, the lenses shielded them.”
You found yourself gulping as you heard him spoke, the passion in his voice thrilling you as much as it terrified you. His gaze on you had never been just analytical. It was fanciful. It was observant. He didn’t look at you like an agent, he looked at you with the hunger of a wolf.
“What do you want August?” You finally asked him, unsure what he wanted from you.
“First, I want you to take off those earrings and crush them.” He said, sitting back on his chair and raising a brow. You stiffly followed his command, pulling off your earrings and crushing the pearl on top of it with the edge of the glass, including the G.P.S tracker inside. August seemed pleased and he nodded, coming forward to take the bottle of wine and pouring you a generous amount.
“I don’t want to remove the chip as long as you promise not to touch it. The blood, it would ruin the mood wouldn’t it?” He asked while cocking his head, taking his wine glass, and clinking it with yours.
“You did not call me here do drink wine and just talk. What do you want?” You snap at him, irrigation bubbling in your gut. The twitching mustache whenever he smirked, that irked you.
He crossed his hand over his chest, licking his lips as his eyes dropped from your fiery eyes to your pursed lips, and from there to your cleavage.
“I want you to give up your mission” He said. The unsaid ‘and’ in there made you arch your brow in question. “And I want you to surrender to me.”
You leaned your elbows on the table, scrunching your nose as you said with as much venom as you could muster, “No. And no. I’d rather die than let you destroy innocent lives for your misguided idea of peace.”
The flash of teeth told you he expected that answer. Taking a sip of his wine he rolled that gulp in his mouth before swallowing, your eyes following the movement of this Adam’s apple.
“Well then, we negotiate.” He offers and pointedly looks at your wine glass. You touch it lightly with his and gulp in a mouthful, trying to keep your nerves steady. This was still your battlefield; you could still win.
“You want to negotiate a terrorist attack?” You asked him with the smallest of smile, and he returned you a bigger one.
“Call it a proposition. I’ll stand back on the attack as long as you agree to surrender to me”.
You blinked, confused, and caught off guard. You drowned your wine, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.
“And by surrender you mean?”
You knew what he meant. He had admitted to you that he was watching you. He spoke to you like he knew you. His eyes raked over your figure in a way that seemed to go deeper than the skin. You watch him stand up and come over to your side, sitting on the table edge in front of you.
“You know what I mean. I want your complete surrender. You have five minutes to decide.” The amused tilt to his voice raised your hackles and you nervously looked over your shoulder.
“Five minutes?” You asked and he chuckled.
“You had to have known that your wine had poison in it.”
You stood up from your chair so fast it toppled. You glanced at your empty wine glass and then to August. Was he lying? But even as you toyed with that thought you could feel sweat building above your lip and hairline, breathing getting just a tad bit harder. Your eyes widened and you stuck a finger down your throat, trying to vomit.
“Won’t help, its already in your blood. You just need to decide if you’d rather be mine or rather be dead.” August said, just sitting and watching your frantic movements. You panted, eyes closing as you fought to think clearly. It was not a difficult decision to make. You opened your eyes, glaring at him as he played with a small vial of what you were sure was the antidote.
“Well sweetness, what will it be? Me, or the cold arms of death?” He asked.
You walked up to him, taking hold of his lapels to pull him closer and slapped him hard.
“You bastard.” You spat. “Give me the antidote.”
You reached for the small glass bottle, but August pushed you away with a firm hand on your shoulder. He looked mischievous, your suffering a source of amusement for him.
“Not so fast.” He tutted. “You need to surrender sweetness, and the first thing to go will be that pride.”
With that, he unbuckled his belt and quickly undid the button on his pants, eyes on you the whole time. You watched in bafflement as he lowered his boxers to bring out his semi-erect cock from within, a closed fist stroking it slowly.
“On your knees.” He commanded, and with a flick of his finger snapped open the bottle and poured some antidote on his now hard cock. “You don’t have much time. You want to live? Get down on your knees and suck.”
The burning in your lungs increased both with the poison and humiliation as you sank down to your knees, the will to live making you waste little time to come forward and put your mouth around him. Your tongue laved at him, catching the bitter essence of the antidote, and eagerly looking for more. He let you do it your way for a while before fisting your hair and jerking you hard, forcing his tool deep inside your mouth.
You moaned as he stretched your lips around himself, the girth of him too wide for comfort. You tried to breath through your nose, tongue moving around for the left-over antidote sticking on his skin.
“Suck sweetness, suck like you mean it. Your world depends on how good you put that mouth to use.” He said groaning, thrusting in your mouth with vigor. You did as he commanded, hollowing your cheeks, and sucking gently, swirling your tongue as you bobbed your head. You pulled away, gasping, and then poking at his slit with your tongue, tasting his musky precum.
August pulled you up by your neck, pushing and moving behind until you fell and landed on the soft mattress of the bed. He climbed over you, pants discarded and shirt unbuttoned, a maniac gleam in his lust blown eyes.
“Please, the antidote.” You begged. You hated pleading but you love breathing more. As you reached out a hand, August took it in his and kissed your fingers before kissing the inside of your wrist. You shivered, his gentle caresses making you respond despite your revulsion.
He brough the antidote to his own mouth, taking in a mouthful and then lowered his mouth to yours. You parted your lips, allowing him to transfer the life saving liquid into your mouth and you swallowed. His tongue invaded your mouth, swirling inside and your hands grabbed his shoulder and hair, pulling him closer. The possibility of dying had you clinging to the only source in this room that made you feel alive in this moment.
“I hate you!” You mumbled against his lips, pulling on his mustache with your teeth and he chuckled. His hands lowered the straps of your dress, lips following to suck a mark into your skin.
“You can hate me, but you cannot leave me. Your precious world stays intact, as long as you do what I say.”
You let him take control, moans spilling from your mouth unbidden at the pleasure he wrecked on your mind and body. You slyly moved your hand down, letting it drag down your side along the slit in your dress to grasp your thigh holster. August’s hand reached the knife strapped to your thigh just as yours did, his lips smiling against your skin as he grabbed it.
“Oh sweetness, you wring my heart with your strength.” He locked his gaze on yours, using your own knife to cut your dress in the middle and bare you to his eyes. The small scars that you received over the years in your service littered your body, and you groaned when he traced them softly.
As his bare body folded over yours, you let your thoughts fly away. You surrendered to his whims and your basic nature, nails digging in his back as he held you close and entered you slowly. You moved in tandem, meeting every one of hit thrusts with a raise of your hips, lips molded over his and curses flowing between both of you.
The ridges of his cock scratched your walls and made you whimper, the sheer size of him taking away your breath. You felt so full, full of August. In that moment, he occupied your body and your thoughts. Your hands roamed his sweaty body, heels digging in his strong back as he powered into you. The delicious burn of his beard left red scratches around your nipples and neck, his hands holding you tight enough to burn their shape in your body.
You convulsed around him, his finger mashing your clit making you soar over the cliff and fall into a valley of pleasure, lightning bolts racing across your back. He was still thrusting, forcing you to look at him as he emptied inside you. As he rolled over and you caught your breath, he tossed you the remaining antidote which you gulped swiftly.
You watched him pant, his hairy chest glistening with sweat. The raw power of his body, the pleasure he just delivered both embarrassed and excited you. You knew you must surrender, must compromise yourself if that was what would take for the world to survive.
“You may own my body, even my mind at times. But don’t think I’ll ever surrender my heart.” You told him and he laughed, reaching over to hold your arm in his, pressing a soft kiss first to both your cheeks and then lips.
“You know I can’t resist a challenge sweetness.” He said. You watched in fascinated horror as his fingers hovered over your tattoo, looking at you with glittering eyes. He tapped out a short message that made your heart stutter and then your knife was pressed into your skin, digging deep to pull out the chip as your screamed.
She’s Mine
His bloody fingers cupped your face, pulling you closer to nuzzle you in his warmth.
“Just surrender to me, and the world will wake up to see another day.”
+++++
Tags: @what-is-your-wish​ @shooting-star-love​ @stanmysoul​ @sweeterthanthis​ @scentedsongrebel​ @muralskins​ @rayofdawnworld @agniavateira​ 
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feralthoughtdump · 3 years
Text
Please Don’t Say You Love Me
Neither of them really knows how to navigate love. They fear the idea of it. But the universe has other plans.
CW: angst, reader is a witch, catching feelings, drinking, no smut but it’s implied they have sex, complicated feelings towards love, heartbreak. Part Two will have a happy ending (I promise)
Word Count: 1.5k
The two first crossed paths at one of Tony’s parties. Loki had been hesitant to go, but Thor had managed to convince him. And looking back, he was pretty thankful. The second his eyes landed on her, occupied with mixing a drink, he was intrigued. 
He’s heard her name come up in conversation before. A witch, one of immense power, who used to do little favors for the people of New York. Fury had recruited her after a little incident in the Financial District. An incident that caused many to look at her with wary eyes. 
“I hate the taste of liquor,” She had told him, pouring a concerning amount of gin into a glass along with tonic water, “But I do like getting drunk.” 
Loki had laughed and poured himself a glass of Asgardian liquor. They cheered a playful “to getting drunk”, and downed their drinks. 
After one too many rounds of shots of god know what, they found themselves in her room, locked in heated kisses, grabby hands, and sweaty bodies pressed against each other. 
In the morning, not only did the two of them have to nurse their horrendous hangovers, but they also had to deal with the quiet snickers and knowing glances from the rest of the Avengers. 
Bucky had given him a proud clap on the shoulder. 
“She’s a doozy, isn’t she?” 
Loki just hummed in agreement and sipped at his coffee. 
He had later learned that she had hooked up with the super-soldier. Multiple times. 
And for some reason, it caused a mild twist in his stomach. 
Loki had made an internal promise not to pry into people’s minds, but a few days later, he found himself looking into Bucky’s head, trying to figure out his relationship with her. It wasn’t any more than friends with benefits. No strings attached, and no developed feelings. But it did nothing to curb the unfamiliar emotions within him. 
Loki couldn’t stop thinking about her, and every time he received a text from her or conversed with her, he felt his heart race. 
And for the young witch, the same was happening. 
It terrified her. She found herself unable to admit that she had developed feelings. Eventually, it led to her crying for an entire day, refusing to let anyone onto her floor or to even leave. 
But she hid it well, she had always been good at hiding her feelings, and this was no different. 
Both of them thought that if they just ignored it, maybe even found ways to avoid each other, those uncomfortable emotions would just disappear. 
Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as they thought. Unbeknownst to them, the rest of the Avengers had noticed, and it led to them getting paired up on small missions, being lumped together on the same couch during movie nights, and during the moments of a slowly ending party. 
The two of them made the best of it, thinking that as long as they kept their feelings to themselves, the other wouldn’t know and they could just leave it as a friendship. 
They grew close, practicing their magic, sharing playlists and jokes, trading books and secrets, things that friends did. But those feelings didn’t go away. 
Love was confusing for Loki. He’s been around for thousands of years, yet he can’t remember the last time he’d felt this way. Sure, he’s been in relationships ranging from friends with benefits to commitments lasting quite a while. But none of them ever felt all that real. Loving someone would only hurt him. 
From a distance, it appears to be a pretty thing. Clasped hands, gentle kisses, quiet whispers that make the other blush and smile. Love is beautiful, he’s seen the love his mother had for his father, the care they’ve shown each other. Yet he’s never really felt it. It made him feel outcasted, unloveable. It made him fear that he’d always end up alone. 
For her, love was brutal. It’s a game of Russian Roulette. Like Loki, she’s been with many. But every time she’s fallen in love with someone, she was left heartbroken. Left to her own devices to pick up the pieces. She’s been torn apart far too many times it left her exhausted. Exhausted from having to put herself together over and over again. So she stuck to small rendezvous and spur-of-the-moment hookups. Minor things that wouldn’t really matter. Ones where she wouldn’t get hurt. The closest thing she’s ever had to a relationship was being friends with benefits with Bucky, but when it was over, they still stayed friends. No hard feelings and no broken hearts.
They’ve built walls around themselves, lashing out at anyone that seemed to be a threat to the illusions they’ve cast. Eventually, their illusions became something even they couldn’t escape. 
A fear of love turned into resentment of it. Disgust at the thought of a relationship. Terror at the idea of commitment. What was the point of loving someone if they get hurt at the end?
So while, she pushed those feelings into a trunk, one to be locked away and forgotten about, Loki started to scheme. A complex, possibly stupid, but well thought out plan, on how to have her. 
He’d pick up on the small things, the music she liked, her favorite flavor of cupcakes, the colors she liked, and slowly implemented them into his life. 
A psychology book he had found in the library had explained Pavlov and conditioning. 
She wasn’t a dog, but Loki hypothesized that if he’d make strawberry frosted vanilla cupcakes, wore her favorite colors, and played the music she liked, she would associate her favorite things with him. 
That was the plan. And the backup plan, well, he didn’t want to consider the possibility of having to implement that backup plan which was to just take a leap of faith and tell her how he felt. 
But it seemed as if he was cursed as the realization slowly dawned upon him: he had to use the backup plan. 
So here he was, shifting nervously on the couch while she happily ate the cupcake that he made her. 
“I love you.” He spills, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could close it. 
She licks the frosting off her lips and smiles. 
“I love you too. Thanks for the cupcake.” 
Loki shakes his head. 
“No, I love you. I really love you.”
She tilts her head and places the cupcake on the coffee table. 
“What do you mean?”
“I-” He stammers. “Look, I haven’t felt this way before, and I-”
Her tone shifts. One that is sharper, scarier. The one that she only uses when she starts to get angry, the one that she uses before objects around them would levitate and the lights would flicker.
“Spit it out.”
“I want more than a friendship with you. I love you. I’ve loved you since the day we met.”
His heart pounds as the air around them shifts. 
“No.” She shakes her head, a harsh laugh slipping past her lips. “No. Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” He shifts closer to her. “I-”
“You’re lying to me. You’re being cruel.”
“Why would I be lying? I may be-”
“This has nothing to do with you being the god of mischief.” She interrupts. 
He opens his mouth but he finds himself speechless. His hand reaches for hers but she pulls it away. 
“You’re being mean. You’re being cruel.” A tear slips down her cheek and she roughly wipes it away with her sleeve. “Who put you up to this?”
“No one! I’m being honest with you!”
He feels his heart slowly start to crack, a sharp ache growing in his chest. 
She stands up and runs her hands through her hair. 
“So what is it then?” She cries, voice wavering. “You want someone to be at your beck and call when you want your dick sucked? No, I won’t let you do this to me. Not when I’ve loved you for so long.” 
Loki walks over to her and gently reaches out to wipe her tears away but she turns her head. 
“Darling, I promise you, I love you. I don’t have any ulterior notices. I just… I just want you.”
Silence falls between them and she sniffles. He tries to meet her eyes but she won’t let him. 
He waits with bated breath. 
“Leave.” She mumbles. 
“What?”
“I want you to leave.”
Loki shakes his head and gently places his hands on her shoulders.
“No, I’m not leaving, I want to talk about this.”
“Stark made this my designated apartment. So, this is technically my home. If I want you to leave, you will leave.” She hisses. 
With a wave of her hand, the door flies open. 
“Please, just listen…” 
She steps back, letting his hands fall to his side. 
“I won’t tell you again.” She shakes her head as a pained smile crosses her face, the lights starting to flicker. “Leave.” 
Before he can blink, Loki finds himself being sent backward, gently landing in the hallway. As he stands to run back into her apartment, the door slams in his face.
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luxekook · 4 years
Text
ego | jjk | harry potter au
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⇥ pairing: gryffindor jeongukk x hufflepuff reader
⇥ genre: harry potter AU, smut, fluff, angst
⇥ summary: in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs 
⇥ warnings: 18+, dirty talk, light smut, cursing
© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.
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The wind whirled around me as I careened towards the glistening goal posts, imagining the opposing team’s Keeper darting back and forth in hopes of blocking the Quaffle that was currently tucked under my arm. I feigned left and the imaginary keeper followed suit. I threw right – Quaffle sailing through the rightmost gold hoop.
I smiled and dove down past the posts to catch up with my own throw. Even though it was still the first week of the new term, I was determined to prove my newly acquired captain-status. Hufflepuff hadn’t had a female captain in ages; and, paired with that, I was only a 6th year.
Luckily, I had a strong team behind me with mostly returning players who I knew would fiercely support me. Us Puffs stuck together. It was inherently in our blood to be loyal as hell to our own, and I thanked Merlin for that every day since receiving the captain’s badge.
As soon as I had hopped on the Hogwarts’ Express a few days prior, I had immediately been swept up in a giant bear hug by Jeong Yunho, one of the Hufflepuff beaters.
“Oh, captain! My captain!” he had dramatically cried, spinning me around. His Dead Poet’s Society reference was not lost on me since I had a muggle parent with excellent taste in movies. Similar reactions from the rest of the team followed suit over the course of the train ride and the Welcoming Feast.
Trials for our only open position of Seeker would take place this weekend with practices immediately starting Monday. We had high hopes for redemption this season after being crushed by Slytherin’s team of goons early on in the Cup tournament.
The Slytherin team’s head hooligan Kang Dokyun led his team with a nasty blend of intimidation and violent tactics. I was convinced that Slytherin didn’t even hold trials and that they just lined up the Slytherin boys, picking out the biggest of the lot. Basically, Slytherin was strong, but slow and slightly uncoordinated. We could beat them by exploiting their weaknesses – of that I was certain.
Ravenclaw would be a bit harder to conquer. Their team played with a level of elegance and intelligence that was so utterly Ravenclaw that even us Puffs got annoyed. Ravenclaw’s captain Yoon Jisoo constructed tactical plays so tricky that she was already recruited to play for Puddlemore next year. Their team was smart, but not completely unbeatable. The Ravenclaws sometimes got so ingrained in their methodical maneuvers that they failed to notice some of their opponents’ counterattacks. That was how they lost the Cup last term to Gryffindor.
Gryffindor was our toughest competition. Winning the Cup last term, the Gryffindor team was a nauseatingly perfect balance between brains and brawn. Their captain Jeon Jeongguk, now a 7th year, was renowned for his tyrannical practice regime that he put his team through. We’d only played Gryffindor once in the regular season last year, and we had held our own for a while until we started getting tired and they didn’t. Seems like Jeongguk knew his shit when it came to conditioning. Something that I was determined to emulate with my own team.
Jeongguk was also the best damn Keeper that Hogwarts had seen in a long time, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the looks of the professional Quidditch scouts that avidly attended his matches. He was way bigger than a typical Keeper – extremely tall with broad shoulders and giant paws for hands. However, the only thing bigger than his stature and talent was his fucking ego.
He carried himself like he was the king of the school, and, unfortunately, most people treated him like it. Girls especially flocked to him – mainly for two reasons: 1) Jeongguk was undoubtedly hot, and 2) he held the promise of a rich future. Personally, I cared for neither of those traits considering his appalling personality and pride.
That damned ego would be his downfall this season. I would make sure of it, I thought as I circled around the stadium and then landed to get a drink.
I was definitely above average on the Quidditch talent scale. Holding the current school record for most assists in a season, I considered myself the glue of the Hufflepuff team – a fact that our Head of House obviously agreed with. However, no one really talked about the glue of a team, they talked about the flashy glitter and the gold stars. I was fine with that. Being the underdog was nothing new to a Hufflepuff, and I planned on using that to our advantage this season. Who said Puffs couldn’t be a little devious?
I smirked to myself as I grabbed my broom, ready to get back to practicing. This would be our fucking year.
“Hey,” a deceptively sweet voice rang out from above me, “You mind sharing the pitch? I need to practice.”
My mood soured. I knew who that was. Kicking off the ground, I flew to face him, “Sure thing, Jeon, just stay out of my way.”
It was almost as if I’d slapped him across the face, “Excuse me?” he choked out, “Do I know you?”
Unbelievable. Jeongguk’s head was evidently so far up his own ass he couldn’t recognize opponents he’d been playing for years. “I guess not,” I countered. And with a flick of my ponytail, I took off towards the opposite end of the pitch.
Unfortunately, he followed, “Are you a Gryffindor? If so, you should come to tryouts tomorrow. You’re pretty fast and we need a new Chaser.”
“Not a Gryffindor,” I called out, dipping low to the ground to scoop up my old practice Quaffle, “But I am a Chaser.”
Jeongguk was still tailing me, and I pulled to a stop to face him, “I thought you had to practice?”
He mirrored my position and crossed his arms. I tried (and failed) to stop myself from noticing how his biceps flexed and how a hint of his famed phoenix tattoo curled up his neck. Merlin, even I couldn’t deny he was hot as fuck. The recent summer months seemed to have blessed his skin with a glowing tan that accentuated the warmth of his dark eyes. It also seemed like he forgot what a haircut was as I watched the wind tousle his slightly curling hair.
“I do,” his eyes were narrowed as he cleared his throat, “I just have to make sure you’re not spying for another team.”
All thoughts of him being fine flew out the Owlery as I scowled. I refused to be intimidated by some arrogant asshole, “Did you not hear me when I said to stay on the opposite end of the pitch, Jeon? What kind of self-respecting spy would ask that?”
“You’re a Slytherin,” Jeongguk declared, his tone too sure for my liking.
He was really aggravating me now, and it took a lot for a Puff to get pissed off, “So, just because I have a semblance of a backbone, I’m a Slytherin? You need to brush up on your House knowledge.”
He was quiet, his expression contemplative, his jaw clenched. His eyes were scanning me with an intensity I was not sure I liked. And then he did something I liked even less: “I propose a game,” his mouth twisted upwards in a smirk, “You say you’re a Chaser?”
I gave a slight tilt of my chin in affirmation. He resumed, “Well, then you must know I’m a Keeper.” He paused, grinning wickedly, waiting for me to react to the double entendre. Eyebrows raised at my pointed silence, he continued, “And we both need to practice… So how ‘bout you try to score on me and for every shot I block you have to answer one of my questions.”
This motherfucker right here. I summoned my inner Helga to give me the strength to deal with this Gryffindor prick, “Say I was to agree to this, what would I get if I score on you?”
The laugh I got in response made all thoughts of remaining a kind and patient Puff evaporate faster than a weak Patronus.
He was still laughing when he noticed I looked ready to Avada him wandless, “Okay, okay. What do you want if you score?” He barely got the words out in between chuckles.
“To come to a Gryffindor practice.”
That shut him up real fast, “No fucking way. I don’t need you distracting my players.”
My nose crinkled, “Distracting? I would just be sitting in the stands, you prick.”
His jaw ticked as he rolled his eyes, “You could be on the furthest corner of the pitch and you’d still distract them, jagi.”
“Don’t call me that. And, pray tell, why I would distract them?” Our brooms were now practically touching as we had instinctively moved closer to one another. I could see the sweat glistening on his brow and the shadow of stubble on his jaw. Merlin, he was potent.
“Because,” Jeongguk paused, acting like this was the most obvious answer in the world, “You’re hot.”
I blinked. And blinked again, “Are you serious?” He opened his mouth to respond. “Nope, don’t answer that, Jeon,” I brushed right over his attempt to answer my rhetorical question, “So, do we have a deal or not? If you’re the esteemed Keeper that you clearly think you are, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to block all my shots, should it?”
My words echoed around us. He looked conflicted, but I knew his ego would not let my challenge go, “Deal. Five shots from the penalty mark.”
He flew towards the goal posts, “Looking forward to getting my questions answered, love,” he bellowed back at me.
I mentally flipped him off as I took off after him, clutching my Quaffle.
Sending out a plea to Merlin, Helga and everyone in between, I pulled to a stop at the penalty mark and pondered how I wanted to play this. He obviously thought he would save all five attempts. I spared him a glance and glower as I notice he was slouching on his broom with a lazy smirk, clearly not taking me as a serious threat.
Fine, I would just have to hustle him. He was asking for it at this point.
I got into formation. As much as it would pain me to mess up this shot on purpose, I knew that I had to in order to make my plan work.
Taking off towards the posts, my movement caused Jeongguk to finally move into a somewhat defensive position. I feigned right, doing so in a way too obvious manner. Hurling the Quaffle towards the top hoop, I watched expectantly as he deflected it with just a slight flick of his hand.
“Come on,” Jeongguk laughed, “You can do better than that, jagi.” He flew over to me and when I stretched to take back the Quaffle he now held in his hand, he shifted it out of reach, “Uh-uh, nope. It’s question time. What’s your name?”
How predictable. “It’s (y/n). Now give me the Quaffle.”
“Last name?” Jeongguk kept the Quaffle out of my hands.
“That’s a separate question, Jeon. You never specified that I give you my full name.” It was my turn to smirk as he threw the Quaffle back at me and headed back to the posts mumbling about loopholes and how I must’ve been a Ravenclaw.
I lined back up for the second shot. I had to make this one a little bit better than the last to show that I was trying, but not too much better that he’d be prepared for my final shots.
I ducked down, twisting around to head towards the right post with my full focus on the hoop. I launched the Quaffle. Jeongguk swooped up to catch it in a way that was entirely too elaborate for such a lame throw. He was clearly showing off – an action that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the meaning behind.
Jeongguk made his way over to me, grinning, “Second question, jagi. Full name, please.”
“(y/f/n) (y/l/n),” I muttered, eyes scanning his face for signs of recognition and hands grabbing the Quaffle away from him.
He looked puzzled, “(y/l/n)? Why does that sound so familiar?”
Before he could think on it further, I pushed his shoulder, “Back to the posts. You got your answer.”
Well, I had attempted to push his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch at my shove. His eyes darted to where my hand now laid on his chest. I removed it faster than a Wronski Feint, trying to ignore the tingles that shot up my arm.
Our eyes connected and his were blazing as his mouth crept into a slow smile, “Like your hands on me.” Before I could formulate a reply, he flew off and I resolved that I would make this next shot as if my life depended on it.
We faced each other. I shifted the Quaffle from hand to hand and took off towards him. I gave him no tells, no feints, nothing. This seemed to throw him off for a split second, but that second was all I needed to send the Quaffle sailing through the bottom hoop.
“What the fuck was that?” Jeongguk yelled as he got all up in my face.
I bit back a smile. “Beginner’s luck?” I quipped, loving how his face had darkened perceptibly, “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can pick up some more tips at your practice.”
Unable to keep my grin in check any longer, I smile widely as he lets out a stream of curses that would make even my old crotchety aunt blush.
We resumed our positions. This time he seemed more alert and watchful. He was getting wary of me, despite my claim that it was just luck. Maybe he knew better after all…
“That won’t happen again, (y/n). Don’t get used to it!” he shouted from the posts.
…Or not.
I took off. Luck be damned. I zigzagged back and forth towards him. Throwing the Quaffle up in the air, I quickly rolled off my broom, sharply grabbing its end and swinging it up to hit the Quaffle mid-air through the center goalpost. A perfectly executed Finbourgh Flick. Regaining my seat on my broom I sailed back to the penalty line and turned back to face Jeongguk.
He looked utterly gobsmacked, “Beginner’s luck? Beginner’s fucking luck? Who the fuck are you?”
I grinned victoriously at his wounded ego, “You know my name, Jeon. Now you can use it at two practices.”
“(y/f/n) (y/l/n), (y/f/n) (y/l/n)… fucking hell,  you’re the new Hufflepuff captain,” he gawked at me.
“Bingo, Gryff,” I laughed, “Took you long enough.”
“Why did I think you were a bloke? I would have remembered such a—” he cut himself off, “You hustled me! There is no way I’m letting you into my practices now.”
We were nose to nose now as I responded, “A deal’s a deal. I thought you Gryffindors were all about honor.”
His face was thunderous, “And I thought you Hufflepuffs were all about fairness.”
“We are,” I said plainly, “We just don’t take lightly to intimidation. Now come on, we’ve got one round left.”
A range of emotions moved across his face to settle in a heated look that I couldn’t quite decipher, “Fine, jagi,” his molten gaze darted to my mouth, “Give it your best shot.”
Swallowing hard, I shook my head, trying to clear my brain of entirely too inappropriate thoughts of me and Jeongguk. As much as I attempted to refocus on making my final shot, my attention wasn’t fully there.
And I fucked it up. Jeongguk dove to catch my throw mid-air, and he sped towards me triumphantly, “Slipping already? What was that?”
I blushed. He noticed.
“Come on,” he said, “I need a drink and then you need to answer my last question.”
I followed him to the ground, cursing my treacherous body for reacting so obviously. My subconscious battled:
‘He’s a player!’ the imaginary Dumbledore on my right shoulder boomed.
‘Kiss him. Now!’ hissed the fictitious Voldemort from the other side.
However, all thoughts evacuated my brain at the sight of Jeongguk peeling off his shirt and taking a long sip from his water bottle. My traitorous eyes flew over his torso. I took in his defined abs, his chiseled arms and his fucking beautiful phoenix tattoo that spanned the entirety of his left shoulder, left upper back, and a portion of his neck.
Then I noticed his eyes were watching me right back. And they were all to amused to be innocent… “Are you seducing me?”
He spit out his mouthful of water, laughing, “Why? Is this working for you?”
My eyes now resembled slits as I glared at him, “Is that your last question?”
“No!” His response came so fast I jolted back on impulse, “No, it’s not…”
He trailed off as he prowled towards me. I stepped back. He kept coming. I stepped back further.
“Why are you running, jagi?” his words were too soft and too intense for my liking. I took another step back and bumped up against the stands. His grin in response was predatory as he caged me in between the stands and his body, his arms on either side of my head.
“Nowhere to run now, little Hufflepuff…” he dragged a finger along the hollows of my throat. He definitely felt the rapid pounding of my pulse, his eyes darkening to the point that they almost seemed black.
I glared defiantly at him, refusing to be daunted by his size or his words. He smirked, “Your last question: do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”
I stopped breathing. He waited, a look of uncertainty flickered on his face so briefly I almost thought I’d imagined it.
That little flare of vulnerability – that should not have been as appealing to me as it was – helped me to regain some of my bearings, “And how much do you want to kiss me? I need a scale of reference.”
He smiled crookedly as he leaned in even further, lips brushing against me as he whispered into my neck, “So fucking bad.”
His tongue darted across my skin as he dragged it up towards my ear. Biting it softly, he murmured, “Well?”
Fuck it all.
My hands latched onto his shoulders and his head snapped up. Raising to my tiptoes, I kissed him. He let out a rough groan, sounding like I was killing him. His hands slid down my body to squeeze my ass before hoisting me up. My legs circled his lean hips as his teeth caught my bottom lip in a faint bite. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly. His hips pressed into mine, drawing a moan from my lips. He smiled against my mouth.
I nipped his lip now in retribution, but it seemed to only urge him on. One hand came up to remove my hair-tie, flinging it over his shoulder. I made a noise of protest, but he just kissed me harder.
How the fuck was he holding me up with one hand?
I prided myself on being a pretty thick bitch, and he was over here acting like I weighed nothing. My fingernails slid down his back, raking over the hard muscles and feeling how they flexed and shifted under my touch.
I don’t know how long we spent making out against the stands, but soon enough we heard voices coming from around the corner. Ripping my mouth away from his, I jumped out of his embrace, landing on shaky legs.
His arm wrapped around my waist as he steadies me. He was breathing just as hard as me and I could feel his heartbeat racing. I tugged away from him to retrieve my hair-tie from the ground and put my now wild hair back into its ponytail.
I could feel Jeongguk’s eyes on me all the while. I looked at him. His lips were swollen, his hair was a disheveled mess, his neck was displaying a rather nice hickey that I was sure was mirrored several times over on my own neck. A rare feeling of pride shot through me, and as he opened his mouth to say something, I shook my head and placed a finger over his lips.
“I’ll see you at your practice, Jeon.” I placed a quick kiss on his cheek, grabbed my broom and walked off.
As I strode away, I heard him grumbling under his breath: “Everybody warns you about the Slytherins. Nobody fucking warns you about the Hufflepuffs. Fucking hell…”
I smiled all the way back to the Common Room.
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shotossecretary · 4 years
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bad day | Mafia AU Shoto Todoroki x Reader
This is my first fic! ahhhh so sorry if it’s not that great hahaha
Word count: 3740 gah damn, I did NOT expect for it to get this long LOL got carried away
Genre: Smut, NSFW
Summary: You’re a brat and Mafia!Todoroki isn’t having it after having a rough day dealing with issues of his own.
Warnings: Rough sex, slight degradation, spanking, slight BDSM, edging, overstimulation
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“I don’t care what the excuse is, when I give you a job, you get it done.” Shoto growled at the pitiful heap of a man he just finished teaching a lesson to. He wiped the blood from his knuckles, scoffed at the man with disgust, and turned to leave. The other members looked on silently, never daring to interfere when their leader dished out discipline.
“Fuck.” Shoto scoffed as he hopped in his car, frustration making him scrunch his brow. He lingered on the steering wheel as he closed his eyes and leaned back on the head rest. What a day it had been. Since taking on one of the more significant leadership roles for the group, the stress had been building up through recent days. Today was the cherry on top. One of his men had a hit he was designated to fulfill and lost the man while simultaneously almost getting caught.
Such amateurs.
There were so many younger guys that had been recently recruited and the more they fucked up, the more Shoto felt his patience wearing down. They would laugh it off, dismissing the severity of being caught. That childishness is what set him off to the breaking point today of beating on of his guys as a reminder to acknowledge the consequences.
Shoto was a hero with a reputation that would be in grave danger if it was exposed to the public that he ran with a menacing crowd. They operated underground, attempting to fly beneath the public’s eyes as they carried out business ordeals at night and always, ALWAYS wore their signature black masks. Shoto never expected to be pulled into such a dirty cycle, but he justified it with the thought that their hits were against bad people. Aside from that, he hated to admit it- but he was a sucker for money. Their gang was one of the most powerful and intimidating in the area, and when they approached Shoto to join, it was a win-win for both sides.
 ---------------
Shoto backed out of the driveway and made his way home, annoyed thoughts biting at him the whole ride. Why did he have to worry about his men on top of everything else? In the moment, the thoughts of balancing his double life became overwhelming. He gritted his teeth and continued to weave through traffic. Being the reckless driver he was, he arrived at his luxury mansion in no time. Parking his car, his glanced in the rear view mirror to find an unforgiving reflection staring back at him. Running his hand through his hair, he attempted to make himself a bit more presentable. He didn’t have time for your questions, and knew if he showed up dirtied, you would pester him endlessly about it. Drained and ready to just get some peace and sleep, he stepped out of the car and made his way inside.
Your home was the perfect balance between modern and traditional. When you and Shoto got married, it didn’t take long to find the perfect one. Of course, he was straight out of hero school and was not affiliated with the gang yet. It almost tore you two apart when he joined. You were so opposed to his involvement in dark crimes- after all, he was a hero. Eventually, you tuned it out, trying your best to ignore the fact he ran with some of the most dangerous men.
Shoto burst through the door, clearly still angry. He threw his shoes off and mindlessly tossed his keys on the counter. You came out in the kitchen to greet him. Unaware that he had overlooked a stain of blood on his neck in his attempt to clean up before coming in, he pushed through to the bedroom.
“Where the hell did you get that from?” you narrowed your eyes as you tugged his shirt, halting him in the middle of the hallway.
Shoto half wanted to just dismiss it, but he knew you were just going to keep asking.
“I cut myself jumping down from a building when I was on a scene earlier rescuing a child.” He stated abruptly, hoping to shut your suspicions down. He knew you knew about his affiliations, but since you two never talked about it, he wasn’t about to bring it up now.
“Bullshit,” you said, “I went by the agency earlier to drop something off for you, and they said you weren’t on call tonight. You’ve been avoiding me the past week too, don’t fucking lie. This has something to do with that little mafia group of yours, doesn’t it?”
Heat mustering up in his chest, Shoto turned to face you, his heterochromatic eyes cutting through you.
“Why don’t you mind your fucking business? I thought you didn’t want anything to do with that part of my life, so why get all riled up now? Move. I had a rough day, I just want to sleep.”
You were done with his behavior.
“Because! You come home angry all the time, and I’ve already ignored some of the nights you come back with bloody clothes. That’s it, I’m over this. Running around fucking killing people like a criminal or pretending to be a hero. I can’t keep up with your shit anymore, Shoto.”
Shoto seethed at your words. Between his dysfunctional group of guys, the constant stress the agency was putting him under, and now YOU. He couldn’t take it. The patience in him snapped.
--------------------------
Before you knew what was happening, he had you by the wrist and forcibly led you to the bedroom. He pushed you in and locked the door behind him, looking more like a hungry predator than your husband. You knew his rough days got the best of him and when they did, the loving man you were infatuated with disintegrated. You couldn’t say you didn’t find some kind of satisfaction from bringing out his dark side, but damn, tonight he looked PISSED.  
He stood over you now, staring at you with carnal intent, before breaking the stare and tossing you on the armchair in the corner.
“You know, I had planned to just shower and go to bed, but since you wanted to put your nose where it doesn’t belong, you’ll learn your place tonight.” He leaned down to you, his face an inch from you. You turned away.
“Better be in position for me when I get out, princess” he whispered, his breath grazing your neck.
You knew what this meant. Every time he had a particularly rough day, he used you as relief. He got up and disappeared into the master bathroom, where you heard him let the water run and step in the shower.
You debated leaving like you were just yelling in the hallway about. But you couldn’t do that. He had eyes everywhere, he would find you. Besides, in some twisted way, you relished in the power this man had over you no matter how hard you tried to break it.
Realizing he would be done soon, you slipped out of the chair and into your designated position. You sat slowly on your knees, with your hands in your lap. You brushed your hair back, ready and waiting.
Then, a thought flickered across your mind- disobey him. You knew more than anyone how serious Shoto was when he gave orders, he expected full compliance. He was used to it. You never defied him.
He doesn’t deserve it. You thought, not wanting to give in to his demands. With that, you lifted yourself back up and into the chair, slouching and making it seem like you didn’t care. You waited as you heard his wet footsteps padding towards the door.
“You better be in position princess,” his voice drifted through the door.
You waited anxiously. He stepped in, clad in a black silk robe and gently rubbing his hair with the back of his towel. Your eyes studied his figure, one that was almost too beautiful for you sight. The robe was loosely tied so that his toned chest was exposed and his wet hair look….my god, was that your weakness.
A sharp “tch” snapped you out of your thoughts. He had lifted his gaze to see you, still in the same spot he left you in.
Your stomach fluttered seeing his realization that were defying him. A sly smile crossed your lips as you fixated your stare on his narrowed eyes. Dropping the towel on the floor, he approached you quickly, bending down to pinch your cheeks in his hand in a rather tight grip.
           “You think this is funny? I told you to be in position when I finished.”
You cocked your brow, your brattiness still stirring despite his grip on your face.
           “Didn’t feel like it”
In response to your tone, Shoto moved his hand from your cheeks to your hair, yanking you up and walking you over to the bed.
He pushed you over, as you stumbled to catch the side of the mattress, looking back at him, biting your lip, challenge still glimmering in your eyes as you silently dared him to do his worst.
Boiling with pure annoyance at your disobedience from earlier, the dominant in Shoto leaped out as he turned your head, forcing your upper body into the mattress. Your shorts were pulled down and his hand found the bridge in your back as he pushed down, hard.
“Stay right fucking there. I swear if you move.”
He went to the dresser and you could hear him fumbling through his belts. Once he came back over, he smoothed it and doubled it over. Keeping your composure, you tried to peer over at him, to which he noticed and quickly took his left hand and pushed your face forward.
“Keep your eyes forward. You’re going to watch.” 
You were facing the mirror that sat on the other side of your bed. Shoto kept his hand in your hair and brought down the belt to grazed your ass. You didn’t even see it in the air before you felt it. Taken aback by the force, you fell slightly forward and bit the sheets.
“What did I say- eyes up” Shoto barked.
You looked up with fire in your eyes, glaring at him. Seeing how mad you were did nothing but to intensify his hits, determined to break the brat in you tonight.
Smack. The second one came down hard and biting down on your lip, you struggled to keep your shriek in. “Sho-“ you whined quietly.
Shoto wasn’t pleased with your lack of response and continued to rain down spanks with no rest between, inevitably forcing tears to spring out of your eyes. “Who’s Sho? What do you call me princess? Better start acting right or this gets worse for you.”
“I-I meant Daddyy” you try and make up for your mistake. You looked at your reflection, now falling apart at the hands of your husband.
Your whimpers satisfied his ears as he threw the belt to the ground and stepped back to admire his work. Bending down to place a soft kiss on it, he let his tongue trace the newly formed welts.
“I didn’t want to do this princess, but you had to learn a lesson for being such a brat earlier,” he mumbled against your skin. You swayed your hips back, still panting from how winded the spanking got you. The coolness of his tongue felt soothing and for a moment you thought that was it. But he was far from done with you.
He spun you around. Falling back on the arm chair and untying his robe, he stared you down.
“Strip.” 
You only had your bra and shirt still on but shyly slipped out of them. His eyes ravaged your figure, thirsty to have you at his mercy. His hand rubbed against his robe, ready for some release.
“Come here. You’re going to suck me off and make me feel good” 
Shoto gestured for you to sit at his feet, to which you followed. Your ass sat back on your heels, still tender and red. Looking up at him, you reached for his cock. He grabbed your wrist and threw it back. 
“No hands, use your teeth.”
With that, you glided your teeth over his robe and gently unwrapped it from his body. His dick revealed itself to you and you licked at it before Shoto grew impatient. 
“Stop with the teasing” he hissed and pushed you down. If there was something you were an absolute beast at, it was giving head. Shoto knew it too. He knew you were capable of taking his length expertly. As you sank down on him, he threw his head back with a deep moan.
“Fuuuck Y/N, you know how to please Daddy. What a good girl”
His praises made you melt as you responded with sloppy gags as your eyes rolled up to look at him. He was barely holding on, you could see it in his expression. Turned on by your gaze, he wrapped his hands around your head and forced you down. You stayed there until you sputtered and your throat burned, leading you to pinching his thigh twice- the signal you used for when you couldn’t take it. He pulled you off sharply, briefly scanning you for any real distress. Despite having an actual dark side, even in the bedroom, Shoto would never take it too far, so long as you permitted it. He opted to teach you lessons when needed, but would never fully want to break you.
You looked up at him- mascara running and saliva smeared on your chin and smirked. “Done already?” you teased. Taking this as an indication that you were fine, his expression flickered back to his dominant demeanor. “As if,” he scuffed. “I’m far from done with your bratty ass.”
Thrusting his dick back in your mouth, your breath hitched in surprise. Shoto was now frowning down on you, watching you bob up and down. “Fuck babe, I’m gonna cum” he exhaled out. You closed your eyes and prepared yourself, all while he repeatedly hit the back of your throat.
He groaned as he released and you felt the warmth seep on your tongue. “Hold it, don’t swallow,” Shoto ordered. You froze in surprise, never being told to do this before. As his cum shot into your mouth, the taste was too strong, you gulped it down before even giving his request a second thought.
“Did you just swallow it?” Shoto looked down, obviously disappointed. “You’re such a fucking slut you couldn’t even wait to drink my cum couldn’t you?”
He brought his thumb to lift your face to meet his. “And here I thought you were starting to learn. But you’re still a bad girl, Y/N....sooo bad”
You shivered in his touch. Fuck. You didn’t mean to swallow. You had already dropped the brattiness in hopes of getting properly fucked after your spanking, but now you dug yourself a deeper hole.
Shoto lifted you and pushed you on the bed, where you fell face first into the pillows. 
“Get your fucking ass up in the air” he mumbled, as he hitched your hips up roughly. You stayed on your forearms, waiting in your vulnerable position for whatever he had in store. He slid off the bed to the headboard, where he had attachments for cuffs you two used every now and then.
“Hands.”
 You offered him your wrists, watching as he cuffed them straight above you. You laid on your stomach with your hands attached to the bed, your ass up and out before him. Shoto moved to examine your perfectly posed frame, all for him. You were a blank canvas for him to mark as he pleased.
You winced as he dragged his hand on your sensitive ass, his fingers slipping ever so lightly over your folds, making you lighthead. “Shoto please, I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be a good girl, please”
Your reasoning did nothing to offset the mans intentions. “Oh princess, you’ll be a good girl by the time I’m done with you” he calmly said, moving his face to be at face level with your slit. Without warning, he brought his tongue to your entrance and began violently lapping streaks up and down. You squealed. Both of you had oral game that was out of this world. Your mind swirled as he continued to devour you, his thumb reaching around to rub your clit. You felt a tingling creeping up and with that, you started to mewl Shoto’s name. He pinched your clit roughly and muttered through eating you out “uh uh, that’s not my name”
The added vibrations of his voice against your most sensitive parts made you cry out. “Daddy! I’m gonna cum” With that, he took it away. His tongues, his fingers, everything- gone. Frustration built up in your chest as you tried to grind back against something….anything. 
Shoto let out a menacing chuckle. “Baby, you aren’t going to cum until I say you can, understand?”
You grit your teeth and nod. Of course.  
“Look at you. Fucking dripping like a whore. Your pussy is just waiting to be filled, isn’t that right?”
Still caught up in your lost orgasm, you weren’t paying attention. That is until an icy hand wrapped around your throat, jerking you up and arching your back against his chest.
“Answer me,” he growled softly in your ear.
“Y-yes daddy. I want to be filled by your cock”
Shoto sighed in approval and reached up to adjust the cuffs, directing you to lay on your back. You wiggled under him and watched him ready himself. Pushing the hair away from your face, he leaned down to his your temple and whispered “You ready for Daddy to fuck you into your place, princess?”
You nodded slowly, now under his spell, fully submissive….straight up putty in his hands.
He lined himself up with you and slowly inched inside, carefully watching as your face contorted. He bottomed out and fell forward, only stopping for a few seconds to let your adjust before he began his pace. It was brutal. He took his length out before slamming it all in, forcing your breath to be stuck in your throat.
 “Daddy- unf..harder..please”
Shoto smirked and leaned back, placing your legs on his shoulders. He continued to drill into you, your hands growing sore off the cuffs as you were rocked up and down. You didn’t care. The insane pleasure outweighed the pain.
“Look at me”
Your half lidded eyes sprung open to stare into Shoto’s, full of lust. He smiled at your mangled expression.
“Looks like my pretty little princess has been broken. Tell me, did you learn your lesson?”
“MMhmmm” you can barely draw out any words as you nod fervently, as he went deeper into you.
Shoto slowed down temporarily to reach over to the dresser to grab a small bullet vibrator.
Oh no. You thought. You knew how one of Shoto’s favorite punishments were edging and overstimulation. You had hoped he forgot but then again, when did he ever.
Placing the vibrator on your clit, Shoto flipped it on, drawing an immediate cry from you. Your cuff hands yanked against their restraints to no avail. You tried squeezing your legs closed, only to be met by his hand roughly pushing it back open.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing? Stay put, you’re taking this punishment.”
You looked at him with pleading eyes. You knew this was going to push you over. He hiked it up to the highest setting and you turned your head to bite in your arm to suppress your screams. Between his cock rutting in and out of you at an unforgiving speed and the vibrations, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. You began to see stars.
“Don’t you dare cum. Hold it.”
“I can’t! It’s too much” you cried, tears spilling over as you whined, begging your husband to take it easy.
“You wanted to be a brat today, you can take it. You won’t cum until I tell you to”
His words made you heave in frustration. How the hell were you going to hold out?
Suddenly, the vibrator turned off, his dick left you, but his head dipped down quickly. Pretty soon, three fingers were pumping in and out as you continued to feel your orgasm approaching. Shoto licked and sucked your clit, knowing you were on the edge. He softly bit at it, which made your hips rise off the bed and plead for your release.
“Please daddy! I can’t anymore, I have to cum”
He watched you writhe, not saying anything and his lack of response made you question whether it wad okay to let go. He was teasing you. Shoto continued slamming his fingers into your g-spot as he looked up.
“Cum, Y/N. Cum all over my fingers”
Not even a second after you heard his permission, your orgasm hit you hard as you came undone on his hand. Looking satisfied he retracted his hand from your pussy. Moving up, he thrust his cock back into you. Eyes shooting open, you stifle a scream as he plowed your now overly sensitive cunt.
“Ahhh~ I can’t again, its too sensitive Sho, not so fast”
“I haven’t came yet angel, don’t be fucking selfish” he growled as he chased his high. Holding your hips down into the bed, you felt his quirk lightly activate, as your left hip started to freeze and your right was heating up. Tears streamed as you silently screamed, overly stimulated to the point where your voice was knocked out of you. Shoto grunted, falling on top of you, as he reached his peak.
 Sighing into your neck, he collapsed beside you. Reaching up, he unfastened you from the headboard and you brought your hands down to massage them. Just as fast as your little session had manifested, the dark glow was gone from Shoto. He lightly kissed your slightly bruised wrists. “Sorry,” he looked up with a soft face. You returned a small smile to him.
“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. I love you” he smirked before getting up to get a glass of water. You sighed. There was just something about him you could never get enough of.
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just-come-baek · 3 years
Text
get in, loser 3
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Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader
Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | streetracer!reader | carthief!reader
Word count: 6.8k
Summary: Taeyong has another assignment for me, and though it seems quite simple, I could not foresee these complications. Also, why do actions have consequences? Somebody should’ve warned me before!
Warnings: mentions of murder | alcohol consumption | assault attempt | roofied drink | police negligence | drug smuggling | drug usage | poor stress management | drop dead goregeous men | foul language | 
A/N First of all, special thanks to Ally for supporting me through ko-fi! 🥰 Also, sorry for not updating it sooner, I’ve been busy with work and college, the next chapter will be probably around New Year, since I’d like to write something christmasy. 🎄Enjoy~~ 
There’s something unexplainable about Taeyong.
He’s a living paradox; on one side, he’s a ruthless mafia boss who won’t hesitate to attack people who had dared to wrong him. However, on the other, he’s a caring leader that is ready to go out of his way to protect his loyal associates.
Though it was, give or take, two weeks since I got to know him personally, I could deduct this much. There was nothing he valued more than loyalty, and I made a mental note to myself to never let him down, especially in this department.
Despite witnessing him murder Haechan and Jisung, I felt oddly safe in his arms, and it was alarming as fuck. Only God knows how many red flags I decided to ignore this night for the sake of his warm embrace. Perhaps it was stupid and reckless, but I didn’t care.
I was scared, and it provided me with warmth and comfort. Taeyong was the one who inflicted the wound on my mind by making me torture Haechan. However, at the same time, he was helping me to treat it with his support.
I didn’t do anything wrong. However, according to Taeyong’s twisted sense of justice, it should be me to punish them – an eye for an eye and all of that bullshit.
As soon as Taeyong led me out of the basement, he leaned in. His whisper tickled my sensitive skin as he ordered me to wait for him in my new car. With a slight nod of my head, I exited the mansion, awfully glad he let me go. Though I tried to forget it even happened, my mind was replaying all of the events from the last hour, making me sick.
The cold fresh breeze hit my face, making me shiver. Wrapping my arms around my torso, I made my way to the vehicle. Once inside, I turned on the music player, looking through for my therapy playlist.
The first song on the playlist was “Don’t Cha” by The Pussycat Dolls, and I nervously began tapping my fingers against the steering wheel in the rhythm. At some point, I unconsciously started singing my heart out, and it actually helped me calm down my nerves.
Unfortunately, the sensation was short-lived. As soon as Taeyong sat down in the passenger seat and closed the doors, I once again became a nervous wreck.
What did he want to discuss with me in private?
“Your opponents didn’t make it easy for you, did they?” Taeyong asked with a mischievous smirk upon his face after he saw the current state of the car.
“It’s just a couple of scratches; it’s no big deal,” I stated, trying to brush it off. Though it pained me, I knew Doyoung would gladly help me fix the vehicle in exchange for a fancy bottle of booze. (And some free ride coupons if he happened to be extra whiny.)
“So…” I cleared my throat, trying not to seem overly intimidated by his presence. “What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked, avoiding his dominant gaze. Under the influence of Taeyong's penetrating eyes, I’d most likely agree to anything in a heartbeat, and that’s not what I wanted at the moment. I had to be assertive and stand my ground.
“First of all, where is the money you won tonight?” Taeyong inquired, and I tilted my head toward the glove compartment, where I had stuffed all the cash I had won in the race. With a playful smirk, Taeyong reached in, pulled out the bag, and looked inside.
“You made me really proud tonight,” he commented, staring at the money before he put his hand into the bag and threw a handful of cash on my thighs. “That’s the tip, spend it wisely,” Taeyong added, and I smiled sheepishly, having no idea what I could spend this money on.
“Thanks,” I answered out of courtesy.
“I know you must be exhausted, so I’ll be quick,” Taeyong started, and I smiled, glad he understood my state. I had survived a couple of terribly tiring days, and right now, I just wanted to return to my tiny apartment, crawl under the covers, and sleep to my heart’s content.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“Next Saturday, I have a business to tend to, and I’ll be needing a driver,” Taeyong explained vaguely, and I nodded my head, making a mental note of it. “Normally, I’d ask Lucas, but we’re a bit understaffed right now, so he’s going to be pretty busy.”
If I wasn’t half-asleep by now, I would be outraged. Ever since I had stolen Taeyong’s vehicle, I put my blood, sweat, and tears into proving I could be a legit gang member. And now, they were looking for recruits, the nerve! Partially, I might’ve been an indirect reason they were understaffed at the moment, yet it still managed to anger me.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll do it,” I replied dismissively, not even bothering to ask for any additional information. The case seemed too easy; there must’ve been a catch, but at this point, I didn’t care. I just wanted this conversation to be over with. Taeyong wouldn’t assign me to this task if he didn’t believe I could pull through, so I naturally agreed, hoping I wouldn’t regret this negligence.
“Someone will text you more details sometime next week until then, get some rest, you look like you need lots of it,” Taeyong spoke teasingly as he once again eyed me from head to toe. I could only guess how awful I looked with the bruises, the eye bags, and an unimpressed frown on my face.
“Gee, thanks for that,” I jested, making Taeyong smirk in response.
“See you soon, doll,” having leaned toward me, he whispered before pressing a delicate kiss in the corner of my mouth, confusing the hell out of me.
What the hell was that?
***
Though at first, I was doubtful, I somehow managed to get better over the week. I still had a vivid picture in my mind of the crime scene unfolding in front of me, but it didn’t bother me as much as it had earlier. Also, I didn’t feel like throwing up out of stress when I thought of Taeyong. As time passed, all the intensity seemed to wear off, and I was glad because I wasn’t ready to take in any more stress.
Right now, I felt great.
Most of the bruises already healed, and I slept to my heart’s content and even went to the fitness club for some yoga classes. Last night, Doyoung and I had a sleepover at my place with classic 90’s movies, unhealthy snacks, and fruity face masks.
Life’s beautiful, I’d say.
Just as Taeyong had said, someone had texted me the details about the next gig. It was Lucas, and as much as I liked hearing from him, I’d much prefer a face-to-face encounter. He was hot as fuck, and though out of my league, I would love to appreciate his ethereal beauty in person instead of imagining him in yet another gorgeous outfit. I just couldn’t help myself; it was his fault he looked like his place was on the cover of Men’s Health.
His message was short, but it provided me with a lot of information, and in all honesty, I was glad he didn’t give me too many details. All I had to do was to escort Taeyong and his friend to a nightclub outside the city and drive them back to the mansion. The car would await me in Taeyong’s driveway, and I should arrive about half an hour before the departure. Oh, and of course, what the dress code was – nightlife extravaganza.
I had no idea what business they were to tend to, but I decided it was for the better. The less I knew about Taeyong's dirty dealings, the less trouble I was getting myself into. If I knew what they were about to do, I might’ve found myself in yet another one stress-heavy episode. It seemed like the only reasonable option to stay the hell away from any possible stress factors.
“How do I look?” I asked Doyoung as I stepped out of my bathroom, letting him check out the outfit. I was wearing a black two-piece, consisting of a cropped top with straps around the waist and a pair of high-waisted leather skinny pants. With ankle strap red high heels, a matching quilted purse, and sharp make-up, I felt sexy and empowered.
“You look like a badass CEO, is this the look you were going for?” Doyoung stated after carefully judging my outfit. Sighing, he put one leg over another. “I like it,” he smiled, giving me thumbs up. “Top it off with that leather jacket, and you’re good to go.”
“The black one or the red one?” I asked, looking at the jackets, wondering which would suit me better, ignoring ‘the really???’ look that Doyoung was giving me. “OK, never mind, sorry I asked,” I groaned, throwing the black jacket at Doyoung’s face, putting the red one over my shoulders.
“Mr. Bad Boy won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” Doyoung remarked in a snarky manner, and I stuck my tongue out, trying to ignore the verbal jab. Very sophisticated conversation between two best friends, I had to admit.
“I won’t even reply to that,” I sighed and went to the mirror to check out if my make-up needed any retouch. Doyoung must’ve really thought I was trying to impress Taeyong with the outfit, and to be honest, it was the least of my worries. Though we barely spoke with each other, Taeyong didn’t seem to understand the meaning of personal space, so I doubted he cared what I was wearing. As long as I’d let him take it off, he would be satisfied.
Not that I thought about letting him do that…
I was a professional, and sleeping with my boss, or even thinking about it isn’t at the top of my priorities. I’m a skilled car racer and a thief, and that’s what I’m planning on focusing on.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back. Close the doors when you leave, okay?” I told Doyoung, and he smiled, lying on the couch, reaching for the TV remote.
“No worries, I’ll just watch the game, clean up the mess you made, and leave,” he said before he stuffed his mouth with a handful of potato chips. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
***
Punctually, I parked my cute Fiat on Taeyong’s driveway right next to a big ass black Hummer. Having got out of my tiny vehicle, I made my way around the monster truck, seeing Lucas in the driver seat, setting up the navigation system. I knocked on the window, and the man turned his head around in a second, sending me a playful smirk.
God, he’s ridiculously hot. My memory didn’t do him justice. With his hair swept back, in a loose red jacket and a low-cut black t-shirt, he looked mesmerizing. A minute later, he exited the vehicle, and I saw him in all his tall glory, and for a brief second, I forgot how to breathe.
It was the effect® Lucas had on regular people.
“The keys are in the ignition, the location already typed into the GPS system. Taeyong and the other guy should be here in a few,” Lucas said, and I nodded.
Who’s the other guy?
Not even Lucas knows his name?
Strange…
“Hello to you, too,” I spoke, smiling at him. Taeyong was nowhere to be seen, so I cleared my throat before firing a question, initiating small talk. “How is recruiting going?” I inquired, genuinely curious about the progress he must’ve made.
“Nothing much yet, but I’m full of hope,” Lucas answered honestly, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, you inspired me to broaden my horizons,” he added, and I cocked up my eyebrow, wanting him to continue. Did I inspire him? Wow.
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’ve done some impressive shit,” Lucas confirmed, and I blushed at the compliment. “I’ve figured we need more women in our field, and I’ve talked to two best female candidates I could find. Right now, we discuss terms of recruitment,” Lucas explained excitedly, and I was positively shocked to hear such news.
Did someone hit him in the head with the feminism manifesto, or what?
“I don’t know what to say…” I whispered, trying to wrap my head around the newest revelation. Having experienced the treatment I received from most of them, it was hard to believe it took them so little time to change their mindset. I mean… it was just Lucas for now, but the change was already visible. “I’m happy to hear that; I can’t wait to meet them,” I added, turning my head to the side upon seeing Taeyong and his friend.
“Meet who?” Taeyong asked in confusion as he didn’t know the full context of our conversation.
“We were just talking about new recruits. I fill you in as soon as I have everything confirmed,” Lucas spoke. Taeyong nodded his head in comprehension, not even half as interested as I was. “Have a safe trip. I’ll get going,” he excused himself before walking away to a white Lamborghini Huracan.
“Missed me, doll?” Taeyong asked with a suggestive smirk decorating his face, as he bit on his bottom lip, glancing at me from head to toe. Yikes! It was unprofessional, and I wanted to scold him for being such a caveman. However, on a second thought, I decided to straighten my back to assert my confidence. Taeyong just wanted to express his appreciation for my fantastic outfit. Even though he chose the creepiest way of doing it, I chose to ignore it with a subtle eye roll.
“Is he always this nasty with you?” The mysterious man asked me as he walked past Taeyong, stretching his hand, greeting me like a regular person. “Pardon him, I’ve told him many times to work on his manners, but it’s like talking to a wall,” he added, and I chuckled, respecting the man already. He was talking shit about Taeyong in his presence – it was admirable.
“Who’s nasty? Speak for yourself!” Taeyong yelled, but his shorter friend just brushed it off.
“I kind of got used to it,” I replied casually, trying to give him a neutral answer.
“I’m Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, but since no one can pronounce it right, everybody calls me Ten,” he introduced himself, and I replied with my name, hoping he would use it instead of yet another infantile nickname.
“Nice to meet you, Ten,” I answered, smiling at the man politely.
“Should we get going?” Having cleared his throat, Taeyong asked, urging us inside of the vehicle. Following Taeyong’s order, I smirked, thinking of his ridiculous behavior. It was the first time when I didn’t give him my full attention, and it was evident it bothered him.
It was new and refreshing, and it was kind of cute of him.
“Yeah, sure, get in, losers, we don’t have all night,” I added, growing a little bit impatient with their slow movements.
“You really have to stop calling me that,” Taeyong whispered in a low voice as he put his hand on my thigh and gave it a firm squeeze.
“And you really have to fasten your seatbelts, or we’re not going anywhere,” I teased with a big, artificial smile, scraping his hand off my thigh. “Those rules apply to you, too,” I added, looking into the rearview mirror, catching Ten sitting comfortably, ignoring seatbelts.
“Is she always like this?” Ten asked, yet obediently following my instructions.
“No. Usually, she’s way cooler,” Taeyong answered, pouting slightly.
***
A little over an hour later, I parked the Hummer in front of a night club. Apparently, all types of shady dealings were meant to be discussed over strong liquor and with a half-naked lady sitting on their laps.
“Good luck, boys,” having turned off the engine, I spoke, sounding awfully like a mom, dropping her kids at another soccer practice.
Annoyed, Taeyong smirked. “Oh no, you’re going with us,” he added, and I cursed under my breath, displeased that Taeyong managed to ruin my plans of staying behind and not getting involved in whatever business they were about to discuss. The less I knew, the better, and Taeyong was really making it difficult for me.
Trailing slowly behind them, I entered the club.
“Get anything you want. We’ll be back in a few,” Taeyong whispered into my ear as he slid his platinum credit card into my palm. “Don’t cause any trouble,” he added before they both walked away to the booth at the back of the establishment.
I still could see them, though they were outside my earshot. It couldn’t get any better. I wouldn’t have to worry about hearing anything that wasn’t meant for my ears. However, at the same time, I could appreciate their natural beauty, fashion sense, and confidence in their original habitat.
I was a designated driver tonight (duh), and it was more than irresponsible to buy myself an alcoholic drink – especially with my ridiculously low alcohol tolerance. Leaning over the counter, much to the bartender’s dismay, I ordered a virgin Mojito.
Having checked whether or not the bartender spat into my drink, I picked up the glass, wrapped my lips around the straw, and took a sip. Though it was delicious, I’d much prefer it to have some alcohol in it. Maybe next time, perhaps tomorrow on my day off, I told myself as I spun on the barstool to have a look at Taeyong and Ten.
They both looked gorgeous, though they didn’t fit the typical mobster description.
Taeyong had his now baby blue hair styled down, a white suit jacket, a baby blue T-shirt, and light pants that made him look like some lawyer on a business trip. Ten, on the other hand, with his messy parted bangs hairstyle, an olive bomber jacket, black hoodie, and a pair of black cargo pants, resembled a lost college student.
The men, who they were meeting, were a completely different story, though. All of them seemed like lethal mobsters with their short hair and all leather outfits. I knew for sure I wouldn’t like to stumble upon them in a dark alley. Without any doubt, they had guns on them, and I was fearful enough to turn my head around and return to my drink.
Not knowing how much time it would take them to discuss all terms of whatever agreement they wanted to sign on, I decided to text Doyoung to pass the time. Unfortunately, before I managed to pull out my phone, my drink got knocked over by a very drunk girl sitting on the barstool next to mine.
“Hey, watch it!” I shouted as I jumped off my stool, not wanting to get all wet. In a matter of a few seconds, the bartender rushed over, helping me wipe off the counter.
“I’m really sawwy,” she said in a drunken haze, and I rolled my eyes, not really wanting to start an argument with an intoxicated person. When drunk, I also tend to be more clumsy than usual, so I simply decided not to hold her accountable for such a minor mistake.
Having apologized for spilling my drink, she excused herself, leaving her date at the bar alone. A good-looking man ordered another round of cocktails for him and his date. I cocked my eyebrows at his behavior. She was already drunk; another drink wouldn’t make her any good.
In a minute, the bartender placed two cranberry vodkas on the counter, putting it on the man’s tab. At first, I wanted to mind my own business and not attract any unnecessary attention. However, when I noticed the man slipping something into the woman’s drink, I knew I needed to intervene. He wanted to hurt her, and I just couldn’t let that happen.
Sighing, I jumped off the barstool and marched to the bathroom, wanting to warn her. Thankfully, she was standing in front of the mirrors, washing her hands when I found her.
Casually, I stopped next to her and pulled out my lipstick to reapply it.
“Are you alright?” I asked her, watching her wobble in her ridiculously high stilettos. She was barely standing on her feet – she was in no condition to have yet another drink, let alone a drink spiked with some type of drug.
“I feel funny. I had one drink, yet I feel like I had five,” the woman commented, placing her purse next to the basin, searching for cosmetics to touch up her make-up. “It must be because I barely ate today, I was so stressed about this date, so I only had breakfast,” she added, but it didn’t calm me. If anything, it made me even more alert.
“Is it your first date with him?” I inquired, trying not to sound intrusive. She seemed a bit naïve, and I wanted to look out for her. If I could prevent her from getting hurt, I had to try.
“Yeah, he asked me out yesterday in a coffee shop next to my building. He’s so romantic,” the woman explained dreamily, and I refrained from groaning in distaste. What kind of dudes did she date in the past to think this guy was romantic?
That was all I needed to know to figure out that he just wanted to get laid and toss her aside. He just wanted to use her body without even earning her consent. No matter how good looking he was – it was unjustifiable. I couldn’t let her go to him and become a victim. I had to try and prevent her from getting hurt.
“Are you sure you want to go back to him in this state? If I were you, I’d reschedule,” I commented, trying to talk her out of continuing this date.
“What is your problem?” asked she, her tone laced with anger and irritation. “I’m on a date, and you keep ruining it. What’s your deal?”
Wow, that was rude.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She couldn’t be for real, right?
“Listen–” I started, trying to defend my case, but she, once again, interjected me.
“No, you listen! I’m on a date with his hot man. You may try your luck somewhere else. I can bet you’ll find someone willing to fuck you but buzz off from me, and my man,” she hissed, and I just blinked a couple times, trying to comprehend what just happened. Though she was annoying the hell out of me, I still had to help her. Perhaps she didn’t fully deserve my saving, but I had to try. Friends or enemies, she didn’t merit to be taken advantage of.
Trying to flee the scene, she grabbed her purse and turned around to storm out of the bathroom. Fortunately, I managed to wrap my hand around her wrist before she made her way to the doors.
“Get a grip, woman!” I shouted at her, hoping she would listen to my loud voice – especially when she didn’t seem to particularly enjoy my calm and worried tone. “He roofied your drink and wants to take advantage of you. You better get yourself a ride home and leave.”
She looked at me, and I looked at her, having an intense stare contest. She must’ve been weighing her options before she tore her arm from my grasp.
“I can take care of myself,” she added before leaving the bathroom.
I tried, I told myself, but it still made me uneasy. She didn’t listen to my warnings, and she was about to get hurt, and it made me feel remorseful. I didn’t do my best. I still could prevent her from getting assaulted.
Heaving a deep sigh, I left the bathroom, determined to stop the man from drugging her even if I had to swallow the poison myself.
They were sitting by the bar as earlier. She was laughing at his joke, and he had his hand on her thigh. They seemed comfortable, but I knew enough to realize it was superficial.
Slowly, I approached them, stumbling over my legs, pretending to be shitfaced drunk. Once the drink was within my reach, I fake-tripped, spilling the alcohol on the man’s laps.
“You bitch,” he yelled in absolute anger. Apparently, he didn’t like it when his plan fell through. “Look what you’ve done!” He jumped to his feet, trying to wipe off his jeans.
Unfortunately, his furious outburst brought lots of attention to us. Instinctively, I turned to look at Taeyong. He was staring at me, mouthing, get out.
It was my much-awaited cue, so I gave this gross man some half-ass apology and left the club without any second thoughts. I had enough of this drama; I’d rather wait for them in the car.
Patiently, I waited for Taeyong and Ten to return. Time flew by quickly as I browsed my social media feed, forwarding the funniest memes to Doyoung.
Maybe thirty minutes later, Taeyong knocked on the window, wanting me to open the trunk. Two huge men with heavy leather jackets and gold chains around their necks threw four enormous black bags into the trunk, shutting it close with a loud thud.
I had no idea what the cargo was, but it didn’t sit right with me. Whatever it was, it must’ve been illegal, and it made me jumpy.
“What’s in the bags?” I asked carelessly, regretting my questing the second it left my mouth.
“Do you really want to know?” Taeyong challenged, and I vigorously shook my head in firm denial. Chuckling, he added, “Just samples.”
“Right,” I answered, dismissing the topic. Quickly, I turned on the engine and drove away, wanting to get back to the mansion as fast as it was lawfully possible.
Unfortunately, not talking about the cargo didn’t make me stop thinking about what’s inside the bags. Taeyong’s business has many branches, varying in dozens of illegal activities. Regardless of what was sitting in the trunk, we would all go to prison if caught.
“What kind of trouble did you cause when I specifically requested you didn’t?” Taeyong asked somewhat throughout the ride. His hands were squeezed in fists, resting on his thighs as he waited for my answer.
“I know, I’m sorry,” I genuinely apologized before I began pleading my case. Hopefully, with proper justification for my actions, Taeyong would understand. He was a human, after all. “I just couldn’t stay idle and watch this nightmare unfold in front of me. I had to help this girl out, even though she didn’t seem to appreciate it."
“Jaehyun was right about you,” Taeyong whispered mysteriously, making me raise an eyebrow in confusion. What kind of prejudice Jaehyun held against me? “You’re way too nice for this job,” he added, and I took a deep sigh, expecting a much worse response.
Though it pained me, it was understandable that being good was a bad thing in this line of business. Typically, I’d be glad to hear such a compliment, but under these circumstances, it made me upset. I wasn’t a saint, but I had some sort of a moral backbone.
“I wouldn’t necessarily put it that way,” I trailed off, thinking of the best way to present my abilities in the most fitting way.
“It was admirable if you want some second-hand opinion,” Ten interjected, pretty amazed with my attitude. “You should’ve punched him in the face, though. I’d love to see that,” he added, and I giggled, picturing my fist colliding against his jaw.
That would be a very nice picture.
“Can you drop me off at the Moonlight club? I’d like to meet with a friend of mine if that’s not a problem?” Ten asked, and I hummed in agreement, punching the club location into a navigation system. It was on our way, so it really wasn’t a nuisance.
“Sure thing,” I added, returning my focus on driving. Unfortunately, as soon as I shifted my attention to the front of our lane, I saw a car overtaking the Hummer. A second later, it flashed red and blue lights right, mentioning for me to stop the vehicle on the side of the road.
The police cruiser.
FUCK.
It was impossible. After doing so much illegal stuff, it was ironic to get caught when properly driving. It was a bad sign, and in a matter of seconds, I turned into an anxious ball of stress.
What a lame way to the end of my career!
OK, you gotta keep calm. Normal women can bullshit their way out of getting a ticket, so you can do it, too! I tried to psych myself up, though it didn’t help much. My mouth was still dry, and my hands were all sweaty. They’re about to discover I’m hiding some illegal stuff in the trunk. I couldn’t go to prison – orange is definitely NOT the new black.
“You can do it, doll. Don’t lose your cool,” Taeyong whispered, giving me an encouraging squeeze on the knee. Admittedly, it didn’t work.
“Yeah, don’t even think of all the drugs we have the trunk stocked up with,” Ten added, and I angrily turned back to yell at him for giving me info that I did not want nor need.
“Why would you say that?!” I shouted, trying to collect my thoughts. Cool, cool, cool, cool. You got this. You’ve survived worse. “If we make out of this alive, I’m gonna kill you,” I warned Ten before I straightened my backs, rolling down the window for the policeman who approached the vehicle.
“Good evening, Mr. Officer,” I beamed innocently, trying to read the policeman’s surname off the uniform, yet in vain. “I didn’t go too fast, did I?” I asked, batting my eyelashes in a poor attempt at flirtation.
Yikes, so much cringe!
“Driving license and vehicle registration certificate,” said the police officer coldly, completely ignoring my pathetic wooing. Unwillingly, I handed him the documents, praying to all the gods for him not to investigate the trunk. “Please, step out of the vehicle,” he added, and I followed his orders, ready to cooperate if he was willing to overlook the car inspection.
Obediently, I entered the backseat of the police cruiser, awaiting the interrogation.
“I’m an experienced driver. Did I make a mistake?” I inquired, waiting for them to give me the reason for pulling me over. My driving skills are mastered to perfection. I was really interested in what lame-ass excuse they were about to conjure to give me a ticket to fund the city’s budget.
“It’s just a routine checkup,” one police officer spoke dismissively, checking my data in their database. “All cops were asked to do routine checkups. Apparently, tonight some gang was doing drug drop-off, yet we stopped dozens of suspicious cars, and nothing came out of it. It must’ve been a false lead.”
What the fuck?
How, on Earth, did the police find out about this? Even I, who was a part of the drop-off, didn’t know what was inside the bags until two minutes ago. Was there a mole in the organization? Or maybe the police sent an undercover agent?
Thoughts were running through my head at a ridiculous speed, my gears were shifting swiftly as I tried to make any connection. Unfortunately, I didn’t connect shit. One thing was sure, though. If, by any chance, they let me go without investigating the car, Taeyong wouldn’t be thrilled to hear the news.
“Really? Drugs? And here I thought I live in the safe neighborhood,” I commented, feigning my cluelessness. Surprise, surprise, it actually sounded natural. Almost as if I was born to be a benighted dumb-dumb. “You better catch those smugglers.”
“We’re doing our best, miss,” the other policeman chimed in, and I tried my best not to roll my eyes at his for this evident negligence. They had culprits right under their nose, and it seemed they did not suspect me.
How could a dumb chick like me be involved in such a shady operation, am I right?
As much as I felt the urge to prove them wrong, I decided not to. As tempting as it was, it was extremely unbeneficial. I just wanted to get the hell out of the cruiser, drop the guys at Taeyong’s mansion, get my paycheck, and go home.
“Where were you going at such a late hour, miss?” The policeman asked, handing me back my documents after not finding anything worth further investigation.
“My friends were at the bachelor party in the club outside the capital, and they got really drunk, so I drove all the way there to pick them up,” I explained, though I got a feeling they weren’t listening to what I was saying.
“Uh-huh,” one of them muttered, quickly writing a messy note of the routine checkup, handing me back my documents. “That would be all, thank you for your cooperation,” the cop added, and I politely smiled, bolting out of the cruiser.
Phew!
Having fastened my seatbelts, I drove away. I just wanted to get the hell away from them, hoping they wouldn’t change their mind and order a thorough vehicle inspection. Taeyong and Ten must’ve had a dozen questions; however, I just turned up the volume of the radio, ignoring their concerned glances.
“Get out,” I barked when I abruptly stopped by the Midnight club. Perhaps it was rude, but I didn’t care. I’ve had a very stressful night, and politeness wasn’t on my mind.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow; good luck with miss grumpy,” Ten spoke before he jumped out of the vehicle, almost as if he was afraid I was going to talk back to him.
“What’s with the attitude?” Taeyong casually asked, and I sighed, trying to calm myself down. “I get you’re stressed, but you shouldn’t take your annoyance on us. Besides, if you’ve forgotten, let me remind you. I’m your boss, and Ten is my close associate.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized before I revealed what exactly happened in the police car. Truth to be told, Taeyong didn’t seem particularly surprised.
“That’s not the worst thing I’ve heard today,” Taeyong whispered, looking at my profile. “Jungwoo from Busan division called me today. Some of Yuta’s men crossed the border. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate our little prank,” he explained, and I grew speechless.
Karma was getting back at me.
Why do actions have consequences?
“That’s not good,” I answered, unable to form a coherent response. I was royally screwed, yet at the time, I was overwhelmed by the revelation.
Why couldn’t I just wait for Taeyong to put an ad on Craigslist, for fuck’s sake?
“Hey, look at me,” Taeyong ordered, and I obediently tore my eyes off the road to gaze into his eyes. “Don’t think too much about it; it’ll be fine,” Taeyong promised, yet his words didn’t make me feel assured. “You’re one of us; we’ll protect you.”
“You better,” I added, clutching my palms around the steering wheel in yet another stress-fuelled episode. There better be a professional health care program for Taeyong’s employees. Otherwise, I may need a therapist. Stress factors don’t stop coming, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to carry on much longer.
“Do you want to hang out?” Taeyong inquired, taking me by surprise. He, the mafia boss, wanted to spend some time with such a peasant like myself. That concept was wild, and it actually made me wonder. I couldn’t really say no. Some people would die to get a chance to wander around his big-ass mansion with Taeyong himself. “We can order some take out and just chill. What do you think?”
“I’d love that.”
***
Since the police knew the registration number, Taeyong ordered me to park the vehicle in a large garage under his majestic mansion. Having turned off the engine, we got out of the car, and I handed him the keys, lifting some heft off my shoulders. It was a nice car, but the memories it held were terrible. I’d rather forget that I even drove that thing.
“Give me a sec,” Taeyong said, taking a handful of samples, stuffing his pocket with them.
“What are these exactly?” Having creased my forehead in contemplation, I asked.
“These? Oh, it’s a new type of drug. It’s called the punch,” Taeyong explained, showing me a single dose of the drag. It was nicely wrapped like candy, and inside it looked like a mint. “It’s like LSD had a baby with shrooms,” he commented casually, winking at me. “And it tastes like bubblegum; you want to try some? The first batch is in the house.”
“Maybe later,” I answered dismissively, not really keen on having my first trip with Taeyong. But on the other hand, who was a better candidate to do drugs with? “I’d rather have some take out first if that’s not a problem,” I added, hoping he wouldn’t press me into doing anything out of my comfort zone. Not that I expected Taeyong to force me to do things against my will. I didn’t. After all, he was a really considerate man.
“Sure, what cuisine are you craving? I’m thinking… maybe something spicy. How about Mexican?” Taeyong proposed, and I vigorously nodded. Either he was my soulmate or really was able to read minds. “I’ll order something delicious.”
This time around, his mansion felt odd.
It was still majestic and glamorous, yet at the same, it was quiet. Back then, it was packed with Taeyong’s minions, but right now, they were in hiding, giving Taeyong his much-needed privacy. Following behind him, roaming around the spacious corridors felt like being guided through a museum during a private tour.
Once settled in the day room, Taeyong walked up to the bar, brought two glasses and a bottle of tequila, and set them on the coffee table.
“You want some? You look like you need a glass or two,” Taeyong offered upon seeing me all tensed up and anxious on the leather couch, nervously scanning the room.
“I’d rather hear some good news, but the alcohol will do,” I answered, reaching for the glass, downing it in one go, only to regret it a second later. “Pour me another one.”
“Take it easy,” Taeyong suggested, yet obediently filled my glass before turning on music, letting me know what type of songs he was into. Apparently, for late night’s chilling EDM hits were his to-go playlist.
With some liquid courage, it was easier to relax at Taeyong’s place. I took off my shoes and stretched on the sofa comfortably, all unpleasant and stressful occurrences slowly fading away. Unfortunately, these feelings were about to come back in the morning.
Twenty minutes later, the food was delivered, and it was absolutely mouthwatering. Fresh corn tortillas, spicy ground beef with a ridiculous amount of cheese made a perfect combination, tasting orgasmic. If I had less self-control, I’d moan at the foodporn laid out on the table for us to devour.
“So… how did the meeting go? Was it a success, or did I fuck it up with my shenanigans at the bar?” I inquired, narrowing my eyes, carefully watching his reaction.
If I could make out an emotion that his eyes were conveying, it was amusement.
“We will see,” Taeyong whispered, reaching into his pocket, playing with a single sample in his hands. “I only distribute the goodies. I gotta check first if this innovation is worth my time,” he added before popping the substance into his mouth like candy. “Is ‘no’ your definite answer?” Taeyong questioned, looking like a cute innocent hamster with the pill dissolving against the inside of his left cheek.
After a few tequila shots and delicious Mexican take out, I was much braver. However, at the same time, I became a way less assertive version of myself. Consenting to his kind proposition was too easy. Besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen? His mansion’s probably the safest place in the country.
“Fine, gimme,” I gave up, reaching out for the pill.
At first, nothing happened. A few minutes later, still nothing, and I even began to think Taeyong gave me a sample from a faulty batch. It was until it hit me good.
The couch melted like milk chocolate swallowing me in its soft waves before I crashed through the floor of nonexistent colors splashes.
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rookie-ramsey · 3 years
Text
Curveball, Chapter 5 (Ethan X MC)
Description: Two months after the ski lodge, life throws them a big surprise.
Preview:  She felt movement in her stomach, stronger than she had before. Gasping softly, she grabbed Ethan’s hand and pressed it to her abdomen. “Wait a second. You may be able to feel them this time.”
Ethan held still. A few moments later, he could feel a little flutter against his palm. Unable to resist, his lips twisted into a smile. His eyes softened, more affectionate than she had ever seen before. Olivia grinned and rested her hand on top of his.
“If my phone wasn’t all the way over there, I’d take a picture of you right now because that’s the cutest facial expression I’ve ever seen on your face.”
Previous Chapter
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At the halfway mark of her second trimester, Olivia was quite certain she doubled in size overnight.
Over time, Ethan’s spare bedroom turned into a storage space for nursery items. Once all of the furniture had been delivered, they picked out the paint for the walls. Ethan probably would have insisted on doing everything himself, but Olivia recruited help.
When there was a knock on the door, she opened it to let Bryce, Baz, and Zaid into the apartment. “Did you three carpool?”
Zaid sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. Certain occupants of the car felt the need to sing during the entire ride.”
Feigning offense, Bryce frowned. “What’s the point of driving anywhere if you’re not going to put on a concert?”
“You got a speeding ticket.”
“Which I’ll pay!” Bryce turned to Olivia. “Nursery Assistance Crew is here to help.”
“Good.” Olivia grinned and led the way to the spare room, where Ethan was opening the cans of light gray paint for the walls. Curious to see how things would play out, she leaned in the doorway to observe.
Bryce and Ethan carefully poured the paint into trays while Baz and Zaid spread drop cloths to protect the floor from spills. Once the floor was sufficiently protected, Ethan passed out paint brushes and rollers.
“If we each paint one wall, we’ll have the room painted quickly. We can paint the first layer and assemble the furniture while we wait for it to dry. It only takes a couple of hours.”
“Good delegation. Aye aye, Captain.” Bryce saluted with the paint roller, earning an eye roll in response. They each dipped their rollers in paint and started working on the walls. The first minute passed in silence before Bryce started a whistling. A moment later, Baz joined in.
Zaid let out a groan. “First the concert in the car and now this?”
Ethan rolled his eyes, focusing on painting. “If the two of you are going to whistle, could you not whistle Christmas music in August?”
“I could always whistle WAP,” Bryce suggested.
It only took a second for Ethan to shake his head. “No. Absolutely under no circumstances will you do that.”
Just as Ethan predicted, it didn’t take long for the four of them to place the first layer of paint. He wiped his hands on a towel and nodded in approval at their handiwork. “Not bad. We can put the furniture together while we wait.”
They opened the box that contained the first crib. Ethan spread the parts across the floor and eyed them, comparing them to the picture on the front of the box.
“Alright. I can handle this.”
Olivia pointed at the booklet lying on the floor. “There’s an instruction manual right there.”
“I don’t need it.”
Baz arched a brow. “Famous last words, boss.”
“You’ve read more books than the rest of us combined and you won’t read a manual? That’s a new level of stubborn.” Bryce smirked.
“The picture is guidance enough.” Ethan knelt down and sorted through the parts until he found the pieces that he presumed would compose the bottom frame. He linked them together, forming a crib-sized rectangle.
He then found the legs and attached them. So far, everything seemed to resemble the picture, so he reached for the screwdriver to tighten everything.
“And… crash.” Bryce laughed when his words timed almost perfectly with the collapse of the crib parts.
Ethan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t have the parts tight enough. Everything was correct.”
“I think this is why manuals are included in these things.”
“Those are always badly written with poor excuses of diagrams. They’re a waste of paper and time.” Ethan shook his head, picking up the fallen pieces.
“I bet you ten dollars I can build the other crib faster than you without looking at the instructions,” Bryce proposed.
“It’s a bet.”
Zaid rolled his eyes. “What are we supposed to do while you two participate in this competition? Just stand here and look pretty?”
Bryce nodded. “Got it in one, Dr. M! We need an audience.”
Ethan turned his head toward the door when the smell of warm butter permeated his senses. “When did you get popcorn?”
Olivia shrugged, scooping up a handful of the fluffy white kernels. “A few seconds after you decided not to look at the manual. I knew I was in for some entertainment.”
“It has been rather amusing.” Baz grinned, accepting a handful of popcorn when she offered him the bowl.
She sat on one of the furniture boxes and nestled the bowl on her lap. “I’m curious to see who actually builds a crib first without it collapsing.”
Bryce cracked his knuckles. “Ready?”
Olivia and Baz set timers on their phones. “Alright. The race is on in three… two… one… go!”
Rolling his eyes, Ethan started rummaging through the parts to determine which ones actually went together. After some careful matching, he successfully formed the base of the crib.
Working a little faster, Bryce fastened one of the crib legs. “I’m one move ahead of you, Ramsey. You’ll be eating my dust.”
Laughing, Olivia started dictating in her best impression of  a sports announcer's voice. “Lahela is just ahead of Ramsey, but will the fast results hold up?”
Ethan glanced up. “When did we become an Olympic sport?”
“Just now,” Olivia confirmed. “Extreme Crib Assembly is officially my favorite part of the Olympics.”
A few minutes later, Bryce stepped back from the crib and threw his hands up. “Done!”
Baz hit the button on his timer. “Thirteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds,” he confirmed just as Ethan finished.
“Thirteen minutes and twenty seconds.” Olivia rubbed her hands together. “The true test is to make sure both cribs are put together correctly. Bryce may have finished first, but if his crib has a problem, he still loses.”
“Never.” Bryce shook his head and handed her one of the instruction manuals so she could check over their finished cribs.
Olivia glanced from the booklet to the cribs, nodding as she confirmed that the parts on both cribs were in their proper places. She tried to give each one a firm shake, pleased when they remained steady.
“And it looks like both cribs are a success! This means Lahela wins by a narrow six seconds!”
“What do I win?”
“Ethan’s ten dollars and… the rest of this popcorn, because I want pizza.”
“I’ll take it.” Bryce accepted the bowl and grinned. “Looks like all those hours in the OR do help with putting furniture together.”
Sighing in defeat, Ethan reached into his wallet and surrendered a ten dollar bill to him. Once they had the cribs settled into their places, they worked on the changing table. Olivia left the room to order some pizzas, but quickly returned so she wouldn’t miss out on the banter occurring in the soon-to-be nursery.
It didn’t take the four of them long to assemble the changing table and rocking chairs.  When the pizzas arrived, they took a break and sat down at the kitchen table. Olivia bypassed the chair, opting instead to sit on Ethan’s lap. Instinctively, Ethan slipped his arm around her waist.
“How cute.” Baz grinned.
Bryce smiled mischievously. “Whipped.”
Zaid shrugged when Bryce and Baz turned to him as if they expected him to join in on the teasing. “No comment.”
“Oh, come on. Watching them is as fun as watching you and Ines.” Baz’s grin widened as his twin’s cheeks flushed.
Olivia chuckled, biting into a piece of pizza. “We are cute. I’ll accept your compliments.”
After lunch, she curled up on the couch to watch TV while everyone else finished the nursery. She dozed off, waking up when Ethan joined her on the couch.
“Hi. Did everyone go home?”
Ethan nodded and looped his arm around her. “We finished. I suppose that went faster than it would have if I’d tried to do it by myself.”
She felt movement in her stomach, stronger than she had before. Gasping softly, she grabbed Ethan’s hand and pressed it to her abdomen. “Wait a second. You may be able to feel them this time.”
Ethan held still. A few moments later, he could feel a little flutter against his palm. Unable to resist, his lips twisted into a smile. His eyes softened, more affectionate than she had ever seen before. Olivia grinned and rested her hand on top of his.
“If my phone wasn’t all the way over there, I’d take a picture of you right now because that’s the cutest facial expression I’ve ever seen on your face.”
He let out a low chuckle. “And give you a chance to put ridiculous filters on my face for the world to see? I don’t think so.”
“The world loves your face, ridiculous filters or not.”
Ethan’s hand rubbed gently against her stomach, earning another tiny motion in response. His brow knitted in thought. “It’s a little strange, how…. different this makes me feel.”
“Good different or bad different?”
“Good different,” Ethan assured her, smoothing his free hand over her hair. “It almost makes me wonder why I had worries about anything.”
“That’s good, because we’re halfway there.”
XXXXXX
Presents of every shape and size occupied their living room.
Between the balloons, streamers, and the huge banner, Olivia felt almost certain that an entire aisle of baby shower decorations had exploded in their apartment. She grinned and snagged a cookie from a platter.
“Sienna, everything looks delicious. It’s a good thing I’m eating for three, because I plan on eating at least one of everything,” she declared, licking icing from her fingers as Ethan joined them in the kitchen.
Sienna smiled as she put the finishing touches on a tower of cupcakes. “These were so much fun to make!”
“They look so cute. Every time I try to bake or cook, things go horribly wrong.”
“They really do, don’t they?” Ethan agreed, a teasing glint appearing in his eyes.
“It’s like the time she burnt Christmas cookies the day after Halloween.” Sienna grinned.
Ethan shook his head. “She beat that this year. She set off the smoke alarm making gingerbread men last week.”
Olivia feigned offense, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you two ganging up on me? Because I will get Naveen to help me taunt you, Ethan.”
“Don’t you already do that?”
“Well, yes. But I won’t hesitate.”  Shaking her head, Olivia finished her cookie and watched as their guests finished piling presents on the table. “What kind of shenanigans are we getting into today?”
“You’ll see,” Sienna promised.
Note: The rest of the baby shower takes place in the next chapter! Stay tuned!
Next Chapter
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leejungchans · 3 years
Text
— the road ahead.
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juliet’s masterlist | 👀 ask juliet anything!!
word count: 1.4k
set in late january, 2018 and before juliet was invited to join ateez’s lineup
summary: after the end of mixnine, ryujin and juliet discuss their future plans.
a/n: oof this is kinda angsty but it ends on a positive note i promise 😭😭 please leave feedback and chat with me :3 💕
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“What a wild ride, huh?” Juliet laughs sadly, taking a sip of her soda. The fizzy beverage really isn’t helping. As it travels down her throat, she feels as though it’s freezing every part inside her, filling her with a sense of numbness and deepening the pit of dread in her stomach.
Or maybe it’s just the weather. She loves winter, but something about the biting cold when she’s already in a bad headspace sends her further down that downwards spiral.
Juliet curses herself for her choice of beverage, and again for not finishing it so she wouldn’t still be holding onto it as the two girls walk out the warm restaurant and out into the streets.
“Yeah,” Ryujin agrees quietly. Their dinner was full of exchanged bittersweet smiles and unspoken words, though neither girl dared bring up the elephant in the room until they finished eating. It being the disappointment from losing on MIXNINE. Of course, they both knew they gave it their all, and ultimately there could only be one winner, so there really are no hard feelings towards anyone.
It just never feels good to lose out on such a chance; to be so, so close to reaching your dream only to fail at the last second.
She remembers the staff at KQ congratulating her for making it that far into the competition, and she could tell that they were pleased how she managed to garner so much positive attention for both herself and the company from the show, however unexpected it was. She also remembers how excited the boys were for her when she made it into the girls’ team for the final competition, happy at the prospect of their friend debuting.
Perhaps this is why losing hurts even more, because she didn’t only let herself down, but also the people who believed in her.
It’s been a while since Juliet’s felt this way. The first was when she left SM. While knowing the decision was necessary for her mental health, another part of her blamed herself for being unable to endure it and giving up on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity when so many others would kill to be in her place. The second time being when she was approached by the KQ scout, not knowing whether it was all worth a second chance but also not wanting to go home to her family in Sydney having accomplished nothing.
Why has she not gotten better at dealing with these emotions? Shouldn’t she have developed a thicker skin? Why doesn’t it hurt less?
And to think that she thought she really had a chance after performing so consistently in MIXNINE. Had it all been wishful thinking?
For Juliet, desperation always led to naivety. It seems like this was no exception.
“What are you thinking about?” Ryujin asks gently, pulling her scarf up to cover her face more as a gust of icy wind hits them.
“Just what I should do now... I guess.”
“Did your company discuss any plans with you?”
“No,” Juliet sighs, her breath condensing into a small puff of white fog. “There aren’t any other female trainees yet, so either they’ll start recruiting some to form a girl group for later, or... I don’t know...”
Ryujin hesitates before choosing her next words carefully. “What about your friends? The boys in your company?”
“The company is planning to debut them late this year. I think they’ll also be heading to LA soon to train further. They’ll be great, I just know it.” A small smile tugs at Juliet’s lips at the mention of the boys, because no matter how terrible and lost she feels about her future in the industry, she is unquestionably happy for the boys for being one step closer to their dream.
Still, there’s a pang in her heart from the thought of not being able to see the boys as often now that they weren’t going to train as regular trainees, but as to-be idols. She wonders how she’ll be able to handle training alone once they leave for LA.
It hurts to think about it—being in their practice room without hearing Wooyoung’s signature laugh, or Seonghwa nagging everyone to stay hydrated, or Hongjoong’s pleading voice urging everyone to sober up when things get just a little too chaotic.
And what about eating lunch without sharing laughs over Yunho and Mingi’s jokes and retellings of funny incidents that happened to them? Or not getting to beat Jongho at arm wrestling even though it’s only because he let her win? Will she also start looking at fried chicken differently because she won’t have Yeosang and San to share it with?
So many questions, not enough answers. Juliet’s chest constricts, so she shakes her head to rid herself of those thoughts before she starts breaking down in the middle of the busy Seoul streets. She’ll deal with them later, she supposes. “Enough about me,” she chuckles weakly. “What about you?”
“JYP is debuting me next year with a few other girls,” Ryujin admits after a few beats of silence. “They said I have to start preparing for it next week.”
Juliet grins. “That’s amazing!” Her smile drops immediately when she notices Ryujin’s frown. “But why do you sound so sad about it?”
The shorter girl pouts. “I don’t know... I guess it just feels... wrong bringing that up at this time. It feels like I’m rubbing salt into the wound.”
This time, Juliet lets out a genuine laugh as she clasps her hands over one of Ryujin’s. “Silly, I’m happy for you more than anything! Don’t think like that!”
“I wish you were in JYP, they’d definitely put you in my team, and we could’ve debuted together.”
“That would be fun,” Juliet admits wistfully, “but it’s not the end for me. At least, I hope not.” She doesn’t know if she’s trying to convince Ryujin or herself. Maybe both. “My contract is not up yet, so at least I’ll be in Seoul until the end of this year, and we can keep meeting up until then!”
“You’re planning to leave after that?” Ryujin asks with widened eyes. This is the first time she’s heard Juliet mention leaving Seoul. “Where to? Home in Sydney?”
Juliet shrugs. “Yeah, but nothing’s set in stone yet. For now I’ll just keep training, see if the company has any plans for me in the next few years. If not... I’ll probably go home and continue with my studies.”
The thought of returning to Australia empty-handed makes her stomach twist. How can she look her family in the eye after that when they’ve been nothing but supportive of her dream? The least she could do is repay them with some form of success, but her future seems so murky that it doesn’t seem possible, and she wonders if it’s really that bad going back to Sydney. At least she’d be home.
“They better have plans for you,” Ryujin says fiercely, snapping Juliet out of her daze. “I don’t want to lose you so soon!”
With the help of the warm glow from the street lamps, Juliet catches sight of her friend’s glossy eyes.
“Ryujin... are you crying?” Alarmed, Juliet stops immediately rummage through her bag for tissues, letting out a small aha! when she hears the crinkle of the plastic packaging underneath her fingertips. Ryujin lets her gently dab away the tears trailing down her cheeks.
They may have only known each other for a few months, but they’ve been through so much together that Juliet considers Ryujin one of her closest friends now. “Don’t cry, Jinnie,” she soothes. Both of them don’t comment on how her voice cracked at the end of the sentence. “It’ll be okay, we’ll always be friends even if I go h—oh no, I’m gonna start crying too.”
This makes Ryujin giggle, and she takes the opportunity to take several deep breaths. “It’s just... I’m really happy we got to be friends. I’ve seen so many of my friends come and go because of how this industry is... and it doesn’t hurt any less each time. I think I’ll actually be crushed if I stop hearing from you too...”
“I’ll never stop bothering you, so don’t worry about that,” Juliet says brightly in effort to cheer her up, though she herself is rapidly blinking back hot tears. “I promise I won’t give up so soon.”
“Swear on it.”
Juliet puts up three fingers, albeit a little clumsily due to her thick gloves. “I solemnly swear that I will not give up on debuting.”
Ryujin raises a brow. “And?”
“And I also solemnly swear to never stop being friends with Shin Ryujin.”
She nods approvingly. “Good. Seriously though, your company is blind if they don’t have anything planned for you. You’ll be huge someday, I know it.”
Juliet links their arm together as they continue walking, their conversation restoring a sliver of hope in her.
“We both will. Count on it.”
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a/n: ngl writing that part about juliet and the boys made my heart hurt aHa 💔💔 i think this update gives even more insight into ryuliet’s friendship!! being on mixnine was very mentally taxing on juliet, and ever since meeting ryujin they’ve been each other’s rocks throughout the competition ;-; now look at them both being 4th gen it girls ✨🥺
let me know what you think!! 🥺🥺 i really do love interacting with you guys!! thank you for reading and take care 💕
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