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voraciousvore · 6 months

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Big Corp Inc. (16/43)

Chapter 16: Lost

Needless to say, Candy failed to make it to work the next morning. Ronny sauntered by with his coffee mug in hand and smirked to himself when he saw her empty cubicle. Mr. Hardon recognized, with some regret, that he had taken things too far. He wasn’t sure if Candy had quit or had never made it back, but either way she wasn’t here, and he was probably going to be blamed for her absence. He suspected the latter option was more probable. He couldn’t picture her finding her way back to the core part of the city with human transportation at her diminutive size. For all he knew, she might be dead by now.

He was still sour he had been so rudely interrupted in the middle of eating his dessert yesterday. He was in hot water with his wife, but he really didn’t care. He couldn’t stand her anyways, and he had no idea why she refused to leave him, despite his brazen infidelity. He didn’t consider divorce a viable option, because she would take half of his net worth and he could be forced by the courts to pay her alimony. She probably did not want to reduce her standard of living either, since he was the primary breadwinner of the household.

He wished he had never married the bitch. Back in the day, when he first courted her, she had been smoking hot, with a voluptuous figure and a pretty face. However, while he had chosen her primarily for her looks, she had chosen him for his money and connections. As the years wore on, the couple who married for shallow reasons came to realize they were not compatible and they were stuck in a loveless marriage. His wife’s good looks faded as she aged, and she let herself go as she became bitter and resentful. Mr. Hardon had to turn to extramarital affairs and sexual harassment at the office to get his rocks off, as he was no longer attracted to his ugly, fat, nagging wife.

Mr. Hardon didn’t want to reflect on his miserable home life, so his thoughts turned back to Candy. If she ever came back, if she was in fact crazy enough to show up after the nightmare she had endured, he would have to finish what he started. He would wait until he had the pills in hand. He was already regretting her being gone. The office was boring to him now, without a little woman to play with and torment. The Giantesses were hot and all, but he couldn’t pick them up in his hand and completely dominate them like he could with a human. He couldn’t eat or mortally terrify them either. He loved the exhilarating feeling a human in hand gave him, to have such power and control, to be so big and strong in comparison. Almost like a god.

Ronny poked his head into Mr. Hardon’s office. “Where’s Candy?” he asked, playing dumb, curious for any details.

Mr. Hardon shrugged. “Beats me.” He glared at Ronny darkly. “Get back to work,” he ordered with a snarl. He assumed Ronny was responsible for this whole mess and didn’t appreciate the man going through his bag without his permission. Ronny retreated to his cubicle, wearing a shit-eating grin, and took a hearty gulp of his coffee.

Martin, over at his desk, found himself thinking about Candy again. As much as he tried to ignore his feelings for her, there was something about her that was mesmerizing to him. She was just so lovely and cute and wholesome. Her tiny size made her even more endearing to him. She was so brave and bold too, to be here working with Giants. He wanted to get to know her better and take her out on a date. A drip of despair dribbled into his heart when he realized his little daydream would probably never make it into reality. He still assumed that she was terrified of him, and pretended to be friendly out of fear. He couldn’t move past his embarrassment either for his terrible mistake when he ate her.

Regardless, he wanted to catch a glimpse of her again, even if he kept his distance and didn’t interact with her at all, so as not to frighten her. He figured it couldn’t hurt to admire her from afar. With his mind made up, he came up with a plausible excuse to talk with the boss, since his office was right across from Candy’s cubicle, and got up to visit her. He tried to act casual and greeted a couple of coworkers as he walked by their cubicles, but his insides were squirming with a mix of anxiety and excitement. His heart palpitated in anticipation.

Martin was immensely disappointed to find her cubicle barren. Her computer monitor was turned off too, indicating she hadn’t been in the office at all today. Did she finally reach her breaking point and quit? The thought saddened him. He didn’t even get to wish her farewell or see her one last time. In fact, the last time he saw her, he didn’t even talk to her properly and ran away. He felt ashamed of himself. Perhaps it was for the best; he needed to let her go, before he got too attached.

He came here ostensibly to talk to the boss, so he peered into Mr. Hardon’s office to find him sitting there deep in thought. “Excuse me, sir. A word?” The boss appeared mildly annoyed, but gestured with his hand for him to enter.

Martin put on his best show to keep his inquiry casual. “I see the new human girl isn’t at her desk. Did she quit, or just call out?”

The boss sighed. “I don’t know, to be honest. I was just thinking about that.”

“Oh, she never called in sick?” Martin felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. She had definitely thrown in the towel.

“Well, no, but it’s not just that. You see, I accidentally took her home yesterday in my bag, and I have no idea if she made it back to the small side of the city safely or not.”

Martin blinked. He felt his throat tighten up. “You didn’t walk her back?”

“No,” Mr. Hardon answered. His response was cold and remorseless.

Martin struggled to control his temper. His voice rose in volume as he spoke. “How could you do that to her?” He shuffled his feet restlessly. “What street do you live on?”

Mr. Hardon’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you need to know that?”

Martin just about exploded with rage. “Because I’m going to go find her, you dolt! Tell me!” He wasn’t in the habit of being rude to his boss, but his emotions were getting the better of him. He was highly agitated and concerned about Candy.

“What, you think you’ll just waltz up the street and she’ll be waiting for you right there? She’s not even the size of your finger, for crying out loud! It’d be like looking for a needle in a haystack!” Mr. Hardon shot back.

“I’m going to at least try!” Martin retorted, his gray eyes hardened with determination.

Mr. Hardon shook his head. “Fine. Fine. It’s Swift Street. Don’t expect to get paid for the time you’re gone!” Martin didn’t care what Mr. Hardon had to say. As soon as he got the street name he turned around and left. While he waited for the elevator, he pulled up his GPS app on his phone and located the street. He was insistent on trying, but he felt hope slipping away as he stared down at his phone screen. How far could she have gotten in a day? He had no idea how long it would take a human to traverse the street, or which direction she had gone, or whether she was still alive. He prayed an animal didn’t attack her, or a hostile Giant didn’t steal her away or squish her. His stomach twisted up in knots. He hadn’t truly fathomed just how hazardous the large side of the city could be for a small human like her. He hurried over to Swift St. as quickly as possible. Fortunately, it wasn’t too far from work.

As he approached the area, he began calling Candy’s name, making sure to project his voice so it could be heard from afar. He listened at regular intervals for a response, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to hear her squeaky little voice if she shouted back to him. He got some strange looks from passersby but he didn’t care. Candy’s safety was more important to him than any social stigma he may incur from his bellowing.

He journeyed through the nearby streets, straying further and further away as he increased his search radius, calling for Candy. He asked Giants who happened to be out and about if they had seen a small human woman, but sadly nobody had sighted her. He was starting to despair of ever finding her, but he kept trying. If she was alive out there, he couldn’t abandon her. He might be her last hope.

Candy was still sleeping soundly under the tree where she had collapsed. From a long distance away, she imagined she heard her name floating to her on the breeze. Her eyes fluttered open and she moaned softly. Her leg muscles and feet were sore and tired. For a moment, she thought maybe the sound was just a vestige of a dream. But then, like an echo, she heard her name again. She sat up and surveyed the area, trying to pinpoint the source of the call. She began to cringe inwardly as she thought about who would be searching for her. As far as she knew, the only person who was aware she was here was Mr. Hardon. Her blood pressure spiked. She needed to get away from him.

She stood up and was about to run when she heard the voice again, closer this time. The deep, resonant tone was familiar, but it wasn’t Mr. Hardon’s voice. Her eyes widened. Martin was looking for her. Why was he here? The reason didn’t matter. She needed to find him. She realized he was too far away to hear her if she yelled. She looked around again, and off in the distance saw his Giant silhouette on the horizon. She ran towards him, but he was so far away. She felt like she would never reach him. Fortunately, he seemed to be clomping toward her with great strides.

Candy couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Even if he couldn’t hear her, she still belted out, “Martin! Martin! Over here!”

Martin paused. He thought he had heard something, the faintest call from down the road. He listened intently but didn’t hear anything else. He forcefully expelled a breath in frustration. His mind must be playing tricks on him. He’d never find Candy this way. He was beginning to give up. If he hadn’t found her by now, he’d never find her. His chest tightened with violent emotion. The thought of Candy, lost and abandoned and maybe hurt, deeply upset him.

Just as he was about to turn around, he heard the same little squeak. He squinted at a distant speck moving towards him along the sidewalk.

“C-Candy?” he cautiously called.

Just barely, he could make out a tiny voice replying, “Martin!” He rushed forward toward the infinitesimal speck, hardly more noticeable than a bug. As he got closer, he could see Candy’s lustrous blonde hair shining in the sun.

“Candy! Oh, praise the heavens! I thought I’d never find you!” He crouched down, swept her up off the sidewalk with his huge hand, and brought her up to his chest. He could feel that she was coated in some sort of slimy, sticky substance, with blades of grass and dirt clinging to her body. “What happened to you? Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m good now,” Candy replied, snuggling up to his warm chest. His Giant body felt so good against hers. She felt safe and comfortable and cared for. She buried herself in his shirt like a blanket and her eyes overflowed with moisture. “Oh, thank goodness you found me! I was so lost! I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come upon me...”

“Yeah, I don’t know if you realized, but you were going in completely the wrong direction,” Martin remarked. “You would’ve never made it back.” He stroked her gently with his fingers and held her close. He wanted to hold her in his hands against him forever. His heart was thumping hard in his chest. He figured she was just relieved to have somebody save her, but now he knew at least that she wasn’t afraid of him like he initially thought. Otherwise, she would never have approached him as she did. Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance with her.

He caressed her back with his thumb as she curled up to his chest. “Let’s get you home.”

Chapter 17

First Chapter

#g/t writing #g/t #giant/tiny #giant #tiny #size difference #g/t fluff #giant tiny #big corp inc

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nidonemo · 1 year

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I woke up from a very upsetting dream this morning, I was in a far-northern town with a tiny society that would go on deadly 2k mile blizzard-pounded journeys with sled dogs and foxes. The temperatures were constantly below freezing, and the remains of those who didn’t survive were sent back home in small 2x2 boxes as solid blocks of ice.

I found myself one of the few survivors of the town, slowly being surrounded by more and more of these ice blocks of the dead, being asked what they should do next, and my real-life roommate came in with a wild fox that I had grown very attached to who had gone on one of these treks, frozen solid. As I grasped this poor animal in my arms, tears streaming down my face, rocking him and saying “My poor sweet baby! You sweet sweet little darling!” I woke myself up, incredibly upset, still uttering my mournful words.

Realizing it had been a dream, I grew infuriated, and shut my eyes to return to the dream. As this was my world in my mind, I assumed my role as its ruling god, and with a great scream I revived every soul lost on the foolish and suicidal tradition of this remote town. I then cast the entire area into an eternal Spring, so that not a single flake of snow would ever remain upon the ground, no matter how many blizzards tried to freeze the land.

I ushered the revived and renewed foxes, dogs, and rest of wildlife into this new Shangri-La, and slammed the humans responsible for such needless tragedy and suffering with terrible gales so they would only know the deafening howls of my absolute and livid contempt of them.

That’s when I chose to wake up.

#nidonemo #dream #dreaming #dream control #dogs #foxes #lucid dreaming

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soft-boi-eli · 3 years

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Hello Hello!

I just wanted to say I love your fics!

ALSO!

Could I request a CC!SBI X Gn! Insomniac Reader! Where the reader is an insomniac (Obviously-) but is somehow a pro at MC!

Like they are basically god at the game! They also REALLY enjoy horror games! They don’t get scared easily and LOVE horror movies! They basically love anything horror/creepy-

ANYWAYS!!

The reader lives off of ramen and Monster energy drinks (For fun-)! They have a Twitch (Which has about 18 mil followers and 14 mil subs!) and a YouTube channel (Which has 20 mil followers!)

They mainly play horror games (Obviously-) and MC!

You can do headcanons or scenarios/images with the SBI! Maybe like playing a horror game together or MC? OR! Maybe some things they do together? Or when they meet up? Or-to many ideas Nightmare-

ANYWAYS!

I don’t really care! And don’t worry about taking too long on it!

ALSO!

Maybe we could be friends? Only if you want too!

Remember to eat, drink, and get enough sleep!

Yes. I lovesthese ideas and I'm gonna choose headcannons due to they are a bit easierfor me to write.

And yes I'm perfectly fine with being your friend! I'm actually happy to make friends on this app so yeah!

Pronouns:nonbinary

Tw: cussing. Insomia, mentions of horror movies. Mention of horror games. Fluff.

SBI with a horror streamer friend head cannons.

*Ahem* tommy wanted to paly a game with you so you choose a game that didn't look like horror until the middle. He screamed at the jump scare and it made both of your chats so happy.

When phil decides to play with you there is literally a silence after a jump scare. Everyone thought he had a heart attack and honestly so did you until he spoke up about accidently hitting his mute button when he jumped.

Wilbur. He's a bit better then tommy but more scared then phil would be. Any little noise won't get him but when it starts to get noticeable the noiseless to him. The jump scare, he'd fall out of his seat and stay on the ground for a bit. You ask if he's good and he literally doesn't answer. He's dead. You killed him. Congrats.

Techno. He'd handle them a bit better then everyone else. Not as good as you but heisnt very paranoid. He literally runs at the noises trying to get jumpscared. While you run after him telling him to stop because if he doesn't then you'd lose and die. And technoblade never dies.

If you all play together both tommy and wilbur pussy out. Techno last the longest and phil the second longest. While you remain the ruler of horror games.

Now how you all met was dream invited you to the dream smp to add to the chaos. Needless to say it got extremely chaotic due to you being on almost 24 hours. You first ran into techno. He seemed confused and skeptical.

You both found eachothers love for potatoes. You set up camp quote close to techno but not too close.

Phil popped in when he needed something for a build and noticed a new name. Talked to you in chat and asked to join your VC. You both found each other talking for a bit.

Wilbur was next. Wilbur got curious over the new person and just hoppedinto the same VC as you techno and phil. He was quick to realize that you were a famous youtuber. Mainly for your horror videos and your extreme Parkcore skills.

In minecraft that is.

Tommy noticing that all of you were in the same VC joined in with shouting. He was low key jealous that everyone was obsessed with you. Then he saw why.

You literally cracked jokes at his shouting.

"Is that an angry pomeranian? Nah nah. It's an angry child. Even better an angry blonde!" - you.

He was shocked and immediately started joking and laughing with you. He wasn't fully angry for long.

Now about your diet. When they heard that you had only eaten ramen and drank angry drinks they were concerned. You lived quite close to techno so when you guys met up he was shocked that you looked as healthy as you did.

He hated the fact that you literally didn't eat anything else.

You told him occasionally you have something other then ramen but you were just too lazy to really cook anything and that you didn't feel like burning the house down.

One month phil, tommy, wilbur, and techno decided to organize a month long sleep over so that they could celebrate your birthday. Phil being quote the father figure cooked different, but easy dinners every night just so you didn't eat only ramen that day.

When they actually arrived though you got a text from Phil asking about your address in your dms. Not think much of it you just sent him your location.

You were going to take a small nap. Just to bost your energy before you went and streamed later that night.

As you were sleeping there was a car heading to your house.

Phil, wilbur, tommy, and techno were all just existing in the car. And when they arrived to your house they didn't expect to actually see a clean house.

You woke to a loud knock.

When you opened the door in your half dazed state you expected a package. But to see four people standing on your porch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

You were stuck there blinking at them.

Finally snapping out of it you let them in. Confused on why in the ever loving fuck they were here.

Phil explained they were here to celebrate your 21st birthday and they were here for a month.

You stared at them for a while. Confused on what to do since you haven't had people over in almost 2 years.

But you got use to it.

So when you got done streaming and smelled something other then ramen you were thrown off guard. Like what was that. I haven't smelled that in years.

But after the second day you got use to it too.

For your birthday phil literally made a feast.

Like he found your favorite food other then ramen and cooked it. With that he prepared everything you could dream of.

Your sleeping habits. Let's dig into those.

I'm in no place to talk as right now it's 3:05 in the morning. And here I am.

But when they are over they don't let you stay up till no 3-4 in the morning. They all know the importance of sleep.

But there are those nights where no once can sleep and it results in a late night stream. And streaming for hours none the less.

The amount of accidental all nighters everyone has pulled was immense. But that's what happens with jet lag, adhd, and insomnia.

Literally you get tired randomly. Sleep for only 3 hours. Wake up. Drink coffee, energy drinks, highly caffeinated tea. And don't sleep till late at night.

Pillow forts.

It's a must and it happens. Horror movies, pillow forts, and snacks. Like you all are in this massive fort, watching horror movies, one by one you all are falling asleep. You and techno were the last up due to technos active mind and your body not letting you sleep.

You two literally just vide there, changing the movies from horror to some silly animated movies, like how to train your dragon, frozen, Luca, and many others.

You two pull an all nighter and it's actually a bet to see how long anyone else takes to notice.

You bet an hour. Techno says all day.

You won. Philza notices the worse eye bags under both you and technos eyes and immediately starts scolding.

He is papa bird and he won't let anyone of his children neglect their needs.

"Did you even drink water at all? You guys should of been sleeping not binge watching horror movies all night!" -philza

You could only offer a smirk, along with a laugh.

"I think we did I just can't fully remember. Also we were watching animated films. Not horror. Surprised you didn't wake up to let it go." - you.

You turn to techno.

"You owe me 15 bucks pig boy!"-you again.

Handing you the money he rolls his eyes. "Yeha yeah. Rub it in." -techno.

Ah yeah they found a horror game that you were scared of surprisingly. It was actually surprisingly you hadn't played it yet.

Outlast.

You had been holding off that game until you finished your other one but here you were. Bored out of your mind.

So you decided fuck it.

That game teriffed the shit out of you. It was so good though.

When you screamed they all came rushing up due to the fact that you never scream.

They say you out of your chair, on the floor, blinking. They thought you were hurt.

But you sat up and looked at your computer.

"Damn. That was actually really good." When you looked behind you and found the boys all staring you smiled and waved.

"You need something?"-you

"You screamed. We heard a thud. We thought you fuckin died!" -tommy.

"No I'm alive. My soul almost divorced my body but it's still quite here."-you

That day made highlights.

The popular y/n actually got jump scared. The one person who never screamed at horror games screamed.

When they left you were sad yes but they were still your best friends. Ready to talk when ever you want.

Sometimes I think that you guys talk all through out the night. Them forgetting that you were actually in a different time zone.

Sometimes they pop into your streams, be it MC, horror, you just talking to your fans, or even the once in the blue moon, cheerful games.

They just pop in and start talking to you. And you talk back like they were there since the beginning.

Phil is now one of your moderators too. Along with tommy, wilbur, and techno. When they pop in they make sure no one picks on you.

And since you are now close to the SBI. You are now part of it.

You didn't choose the fans did. But they are your new family. No matter what.

Even if they disagree with your eating habit.

Or energy drink addiction.

Or insomnia.

Or you mainly playing horror games.

Or you basically living in your streaming room.

Or even the nearly 24 hour streams.

I could go on but I'm not gonna.

I'm tired. But I can sleep. 2 days and I get to have a tour of my new school.

And it took so long to finally get into it.

We have been going through a huge hassle even before school started to get me enrolled.

And then we had to get me into this program.

But now on Monday I get to go in. Get a tour. Then start either Tuesday or Wednesday.

Anyway hope you liked. It's now 3:50 and it's no proof read I'm sorry

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parkerliciouspeter · 3 years

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Can u do a bucky fluff where bucky thinks the reader likes steve bc he hears her talking to someone about a super soldier not realizing they’re taling about bucky? If u c an thx bestieee😊🦋

Somebody Else

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

requests are open!

word count: 1126

warnings: none :)

a/n reader is genderneutral :) if i explicitly used gender-specific pronouns (she/her/he/him) then please let me know!

masterlist!

“C’mon, Y/N. Spill.” Natasha was poking your arm, trying to get you to tell her who was the guy you liked. You had slipped up earlier, accidentally hinting that you liked someone here in the compound, and now your friend was teasing you to no end.

After shaking you a few more times, you groaned. “Fine, fine! It’s… the super-soldier…”

Unbeknownst to the both of you, another person walked into the kitchen and heard your revelation.

“Oh my god,” Natasha lowered her voice, so Bucky couldn’t hear her “Which one?”

You bit your lip and whispered. “B-Bucky…”

Natasha giggled and you hit her arm. “Hey, shut up!”

“Ok, ok!” She wiped a tear from her eye and sighed, holding your hand. “Oh, Y/N, your taste in men is weird.”

You snorted in response and picked up your freshly brewed tea. “That’s rich, coming from someone who hasn’t dated anyone. Ever.”

She smacked you with her magazine as she chased you to your room, laughing.

Letting out a sigh, Bucky went back to the direction he came from. Who could you have been talking about? Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? The little voice in his head whispered. Steve’s the perfect guy, and all you are is an ex-hydra killing machine. There was no way that they liked you back.

The next morning, you found Bucky beating the punching bag in the gym, and it looked like he had been here for hours.

”Early morning, James?” You were the only person he would allow to call him that since it was no secret that he had a soft spot for you.

He gave you a feeble nod, and continued to hit the bag.

”D’you wanna spar? A real person would be much better than poor Kevin, here.” It was pretty well known in the compound that the worst-looking and most beat-up punching bag was named Kevin. Sam even drew a stupid face on it.

“Not really,” He mumbled, so quietly that you almost didn't hear him.

“You sure?”

He nodded again, and proceeded to sit down on the bleachers and re-wrap his bandages around his flesh hand. Weird, you thought. Usually, Bucky liked sparring with you.

Unfortunately, this is how it went for a few more days.

Every time you asked him to do something with you, he’d make up some lousy excuse so he didn’t have to do it.

“I have to go feed my goats, sorry.”

“Sorry, Y/N, but Sam and I are gonna go throw rocks at birds.”

You were, needless to say, annoyed.

It was like he was avoiding you.

On a particular stingy morning (where Bucky went out early in the morning to buy some plums), you headed to the living room where you found Steve watching TV.

“Hey Y/N, do you know David Blaine? He’s a freakin’ god, he stabbed his hand with an ice pick!” You smiled and sat down on the couch beside him. “Yeah, he’s great.”

His smile faded when he noticed the glum expression on your face. “Something wrong?”

“I think Bucky’s been avoiding me,” You whined, running your fingers through your hair.

Steve laughs in response. “Well, that’s hard to believe. Buck thinks the world of you, y’know?”

“Then why,” You look him dead in the eyes, making him gulp. “Did he turn down my invitation to watch a movie with the excuse, ‘I’m sorry, I have to go walk my fish,’ Steve? That makes no fuckin’ sense.”

“Hey, language! That doesn’t sound like Buck to me, Y/N, maybe you should just talk to him?”

The corners of your mouth tugged up slightly. You sighed, it was worth a shot. “Thanks for the advice Steve,” you pull him into a hug. After a while you hear the padding of feet from the corridor behind you. You pull away from Steve to see Bucky, holding a plastic bag full of plums. “Oh, hi, James!”

He throws the bag on the counter and stomps away to his room.

“Jeez, what’s got him all angry?”

“I don’t know, Steve, I’ll go check on him.” You head in the direction of his room and knock on the door. “James?” No response. “It’s me, can you open the door?” You hear shuffling and the door clicks open.

You cautiously open the door to see Bucky lying down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. “Hi.”

“Hey, Buck, you okay?”

“Doin’ just peachy.”

You sigh and sit down on the foot of his bed. “I know that look, you’re not okay.

“Well, then why’d you even ask?” He snaps, startling you. He never raised his voice at you, even when you would do something stupid.

“I- I’m sorry, I just thought I’d ask.“

He sits up, letting out a low breath. “Y/N, please don’t pretend.”

“Pretend? What do you mean, ‘pretend?’”

He fiddled with the blanket, looking down. “I heard you talking about Steve with Nat the other day…” He confessed, voice shaking slightly.

“Oh, Buck.” You sighed and wrapped your fingers around his. “Buck, I said ‘super soldier.’ There’s two of you guys, why’d you think I was talking about Steve?”

He stared at the bed for a while until what you said hit him like a truck. His eyes lit up and he looked at you like a confused puppy. “You mean…”

You beamed at his confusion. “Yes, I was talking about you. What… what made you think it was Steve?”

He hung his head down low and shrugged. “Jus’ didn’t think you liked me...”

“James, I’ve been asking you to hang out with me for the past 3 days,” You laughed at his obliviousness, making his cheeks tint a bright pink. “If anything, I’d think you didn’t like me.”

Silence followed, and Bucky continued to stare at the bed. “M’sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for being an idiot.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Pulling him close, you rubbed circles on his back, making him wince slightly.

He pulls away and looks at you, his hair hanging in ringlets over his face. There’s something different about his eyes, they’re no longer the dark and stormy blue you used to see. It’s much softer, much more inviting;

Before you knew it, his lips met yours, a familiar warmth engulfing your body. His tongue slipped in between your lips, electing a surprised moan from you.

You pulled away with a smack, both of your foreheads touching. “I really like you, James.”

There was no response, both of your deep breaths were the only sound you could hear. “I- I really like you too.”

And so, the two of you spent the rest of the morning cuddled up under the blankets, catching Bucky up with some of your favorite movies.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #james buchanan barnes #tfatws #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction

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diaphragmjellyfish · 3 years

Text

You Just Wait

gif is from @twilightofficial

A/N: The hardest part of writing a fic is honestly choosing the love interest XD I have so many fictional boyfriends it’s hard to choose just one. I have noticed a significant lack of Jared Cameron content and he’s super adorable so here it is! Also, I left the concept a little bit more vague so more people can relate to it. It doesn’t specifically say vaginismus, it’s more of a general “sex doesn’t normally go well for me” type thing.

Bottomless, covered in chocolate sauce, walking through the woods, phone dead, in the middle of August on a weekday. How did you end up here? Jared Cameron. Your boyfriend. He had roped you in to an elaborate prank on Paul that hadn’t exactly gone as planned. Needless to say, you were desperate for a shower and a nap. A hot meal wouldn’t hurt. And you were beyond irritated, not even looking Jared’s way as he walked next to you in a similar state.

“Babe, if you let me carry you, we’ll get home way faster,” he whined.

You didn’t respond, only walking with more frustration around the roots and fallen trees. It was growing dark, just about twilight, and you knew you wouldn’t be reaching either of your houses at this rate. You were miles into the forest. But your pride kept you from accepting Jared’s wolfy-back ride, because he tended to make lots of jokes about being between your legs and you riding him and blah blah blah, and you honestly might punch him right now if he did that.

So you just kept ignoring him, arms folded tightly against your chest because, yes, it was August, but this was also the Washington coast. It got pretty chilly no matter what time of year it was.

“I can see you shivering from here,” he pleaded, almost sounding in pain at the thought of you being uncomfortable. “It’s only gonna get colder. Let me help you.”

You ignored him.

“C’mooonnnnnn,” he cried. His preferred way of cracking your silence was usually by annoying you out of it, and it was working. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon c’m-”

“Jared, I swear to God!”

“Aha! She speaks!” he laughed.

“”Only to tell you to be quiet, or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what?” he cut you off. “I’m way stronger than you!” He was teasing you into talking to him. Even if it was in the form of arguing. Damn, he always got you to crack. You stopped walking, turning to face him, arms still held tightly around yourself. You couldn’t resist a good bicker, and Jared knew that. He would get the sass to come out, and then once you got tired, he’d apologize and you’d be made up within half an hour. That’s what always happened. And you couldn’t exactly stay mad at those big brown puppy eyes for long.

“Physically, maybe,” you chided, “but I’m definitely way smarter than you.”

He stepped closer to you, a playful smirk on his face. “What, are you gonna read me to death or something?”

“I’m gonna strategize a huge plan, manipulate you, and leave you here in the forest by yourself. That’s what I’m gonna do,” you sassed. He never took arguments to heart, which is one thing you loved about him. He knew how grumpy you could get and would let you vent, and then make you forget all about the problem.

“Oh, okay, yeah sure,” he giggled, hands going up in defense. “I’m just saying that in this situation, there is no way you come out on top. You run, I catch you. You hide, I sniff you out,” he teased. This made you crack an almost imperceptible smile, but one he noticed nonetheless. “And if you did somehow manage to get away from me, you’d freeze to death in an hour flat.” The cold breeze that caused you to shiver more violently could not have had worse timing. Obviously, Jared noticed, and his face dropped. He approached you slowly, silently asking if you were still mad enough to not let him touch you. When you didn’t step back or stop him, he wrapped both his arms around you and brought you into a huge bear hug. You sighed at his warmth, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He’d given you his hoodie hours ago, and was left in only a pair of shorts, though he didn’t seem to notice. Damn him and his werewolf heat.

You still shivered in his arms, but his feverish temperature was a relief to your aching bones.

“See? Could’ve been warm hours ago,” he teased once again, noting your clinginess.

“Shut up. I’m still mad,” you mumbled into his neck. He laughed softly to himself, rubbing his hands up and down your body to create more heat. After a few minutes, you were starting to struggle to keep your eyes open. It had to be close to 2 in the morning, and you’d been walking for what felt like hours. Jared could have easily run home and let you brood alone, but he stuck with you no matter how long you went without speaking to him.

“Sleepy?” he murmured into your hair. You just nodded softly, and didn’t protest as he bent down, one hand going behind your knees and the other staying around your back. He picked you up with ease and started walking through the woods once more with an “Okay Princess, I got you.” His stride never faltered, easily avoiding tripping over roots or slipping on rain-soaked moss. He must have been walking for about 30 minutes, never so much as breathing hard or shifting you in his grip. You didn’t sleep, but welcomed the rest he allowed you. Your eyes were closed, head resting on his shoulder when you felt him stop. You looked up, and in the distance, maybe 50 yards away, you saw a small building.

“Hunter’s cabin, I’m guessing. No one’s home,” Jared stated, anticipating your questions.

“Think there’ll be blankets?” you wondered, tired, yet still playful.

“What, am I not enough for you?” he feigned mock hurt as you giggled at his unshakeable good attitude. Without another word, he began walking towards the small cabin, which was about the size of an average bedroom. When you reached the door, he set you down gently, holding his hands close to your waist while you found your footing, and then wrapping an arm over your shoulders to keep you warm.

“I’m assuming it’s locked,” you sighed, disappointed.

“Babe, no door is locked when you have super strength. Honestly, I thought you’d have more faith in me by now,” he smiled brightly.

“You can’t just go around kicking random people’s doors in!” you scolded.

“Okay, first of all, I can tell by the smell that no one’s been here in years. Second of all, how would anyone know it was us that broke in and not, like, a deer? And third of all, I’d say this counts as an emergency,” he sassed right back at you. You looked at him in annoyance, too tired and cold to actually care.

After a long sigh, you muttered “fine.”

He immediately turned to the door, not letting you so much as inhale before he slammed his foot into the space next to the knob, the door all but flying off its hinges. The whole scene caused deafening noise that interrupted the silence of the trees.

“Jesus!” you called out in surprise, a hand shooting up to your pounding heart. You look around, though knowing no one was around for miles. Jared only turned to look at you, a cheeky smile adorning his face, and said,

“See? Told ya.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the loving and admiring energy that overcame you. Jared really was one in a million, and you were lucky to be by his side. He could be in the worst situation in the world and still find something to laugh about.

He motioned for you to go in first, ever the gentleman. Walking through the door, the first thing you noticed was the dust. The entire inside of the cabin was covered in a thick layer of it. There was a small, rickety couch with cushions so worn they had holes in them throughout. And the fabric… my God. It looked like something from the 60’s, an obnoxious floral that had faded over time, and now just looked flat out stained. There was a flimsy throw blanket over the back of the couch, a cooler in the corner of the room that was covered in dirt, and on the opposite wall, a fireplace! No wood, no matches, but it was there. The floor was scattered with bullet shells, receipts, and decayed leaves. It was obvious no one had been in here for at least 3 or 4 years.

“Okay, I can work with this,” Jared said. You really were jealous of his optimism. But, as disgusting as this place was, it beat the frigid breeze of outside, and had a place where you could rest your heads. You walked over to the couch, grabbing the blanket and beating the dust off of it. It was really only meant for one person, but you guys were okay with getting close. It would do.

Jared walked over to the opposite corner where the cooler sat by the fireplace and opened the lid, peeking inside.

“Just water,” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

“Were you really gonna eat whatever was in there?” you spoke incredulously.

“Babe, I’m starving. You have no idea how close I am to licking that chocolate sauce off of you,” he voiced. You had almost forgotten about the sticky sauce that covered both of your clothes. That prank really was a disaster. You looked down, face heating at the thought of Jared’s mouth on you like that, and turned to the fireplace where he stood. He was looking on the mantle, oblivious to the effect his comment had on you, and exclaimed “Aha!” before reaching up to grab something. “A lighter. We’re saved! Well, you are,” he laughed looking over at your shivering form once more. “Stay here and get comfy. I’m gonna go get some wood.”

You tried your best, sitting on the edge of the couch and immediately feeling a spring poking you in the butt. The couch really was tiny. You guys were gonna have to bundle up close to fit. The thought excited you. Sure, you and Jared had always been comfortable touching and holding each other, but there were certain areas of your relationship you had yet to explore. More… intimate areas. It was your fault mostly. To make a long story short, you’ve just never enjoyed sex. You found yourself not able to get aroused, which made things painful. Sure, you wanted to. You’d thought about it a ton. But in the moment, your head was so full of thoughts of ‘What if he thinks I’m ugly? What if I smell? Am I doing this right? Is he having a good time? Am I taking too long?’ that you just stopped trying. And obviously you wanted to have sex with Jared, but you were worried he’d be disappointed. By the time he got back, just a few minutes later, you had brought your knees up to your chest, holding your legs close in an effort to preserve warmth.

“Doing okay Sweetheart?” he asked gently. You gave a small smile and nodded in response. He plopped the logs in his arms down into the fireplace, scavenging the floor for receipts, dried leaves, anything that would catch fire. He dumped these into the fireplace and lit them, the fire catching within seconds. He walked over to the other side of the room where the couch was before bending down, grabbing the bottom lip of it, and pulling it (and you) across the floor, one-handed, and closer to the fire. “Better?” You had always been in awe of his strength. Let’s be honest, it was just plain sexy. Again, you just nodded your head, staring at him in adoration.

He sat beside you on the couch, throwing an arm over your shoulders again, and leaning back, taking you with him. You cuddled into his side, watching the fire.

“Ya know, if you take away the shitty couch and sticky clothes and add a few more blankets, this would actually be pretty nice,” he finally spoke.

You laughed softly, replying, “It would. The couch isn’t even awful, but these clothes are really ruining the mood for me.”

“Well why don’t you get out of ‘em, hot stuff?” he joked. You knew he wasn’t serious because you guys haven’t gotten that far yet, but something, maybe the exhaustion or the way he kept challenging you today, made you want to actually do it. Before you could lose your nerve, you reached down, pulling off the hoodie and shirt in one go and tossing them onto the floor. You relaxed back into his arms in just a bra, acting like nothing had happened. He was frozen beside you. Maybe it was mean, but you wanted to tease him a little. He’d put you through a lot today, so you wanted to mess with him a tiny bit. So, coolly, you brought a hand onto his thigh and began running it up and down, going higher and higher with each pass. He was still frozen, so you gave a light squeeze, and heard him inhale sharply, though he tried to hide it.

“I thought you were tired,” he commented.

“Guess I’m not anymore,” you responded, turning to face him boldly. He immediately leaned in to kiss you, softly as always. You reciprocated, bringing your other hand up to cup his face. His arm that was around your shoulders slipped down around your waist, pulling you in further. Jared had always been gentle when kissing you, so you knew you’d have to make the first move to deepen it. Which is exactly what you did. Running your hand up his head and grabbing his hair, you pulled him towards you even more and traced your tongue across his bottom lip. He responded by matching your energy, tongue slipping out to caress yours before bringing your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling softly. You guys had never kissed like this before. You felt a bead of warmth pool in your abdomen, something you’d never felt with a guy before. Sure, you’d been turned on while watching certain videos or reading certain fanfiction by yourself, but you’d never actually experienced it with someone before. It was exciting. Maybe it was the knowledge that you could stop things at any time and he wouldn’t be upset, or maybe it was how in love with you he really was, but you didn’t feel nervous or worried. You felt comfortable.

Taking things a step further, you swung your leg over both of his, moving to straddle his lap.

He pulled away slightly at this, making you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he responded, “I just don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You smiled, “I’m not doing anything I don’t wanna do. Are you?”

“Are you seriously asking me that question right now?” He laughed, making you giggle along.

You leaned back in for another kiss, when he stopped you again. “What exactly… are we doing, though?” You knew what he was silently asking. Are we about to go all the way? And you didn’t know yet. This had started out as playful teasing, but now you were beginning to think that maybe you did want to try something. With Jared. He was it for you, the one you wanted to spend forever with. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. And he’d taken such good care of you these last few hours, keeping you warm, making sure you were storming off in the right direction, that you knew he’d appreciate you in a more intimate sense.

“I- I kind of would like to try… some stuff,” you answered.

He looked at you, eyes wide, before answering, “What kind of stuff? I mean, I will do literally anything you ask me to do and you know that, but I didn’t really prepare for this. Like, I don’t… have what we need.” Oh, a condom. What a responsible boy.

“I’m on the pill,” you replied a little too quickly before looking down and fiddling with your hands. “If you want to.”

“Y/N, I would be absolutely fucking honored,” he breathed, before cupping your face and pulling you into the most heated kiss yet. Your tongues danced, hands wandering. Yours, across his muscled chest and abdomen, and his, down your waist and around to cup your pantsless ass, squeezing firmly. It felt nice. He handled you in a way that was gentle and painless, but still dominant and firm. And it made the heat in your belly grow. You continued kissing for several minutes, your hands moving up his neck and eventually landing in his hair once more, and his remaining on your ass and waist. You softly sucked at his lower lip, nibbling slightly, and it made him let out a low growl and pull your hips forward onto his, where you felt something hard push against you. You knew what it was, and it didn’t scare you like it normally would. You did, however, feel your damp underwear. Shit, that’s never happened before. You were normally bone dry at this point. You let out a soft sigh, grinding your hips onto him once more.

He softened his kisses slightly, bringing a hand around to your stomach and running his knuckles lightly across your lower abdomen.

“Can I?” He questioned delicately.

“Yes,” you replied almost immediately. He brought his hand under the waistband of your underwear, when you said, “Wait,” and he stopped. “Just one thing. I kind of… have never been able to do this without it hurting a lot, so maybe you could just try to be gentle?”

“Oh, baby, you’ve been in pain before? I’m so sorry,” he whispered genuinely.

“It’s okay, I just…” It was now or never. He should know. “Normally I’m super nervous about everything, so I can’t really… get into it, and when girls aren’t into it it’s kind of… dry? And that makes it kind of hurt really bad.” You faded out at the end, feeling embarrassed. He brought his hand out of your underwear and up to your chin, tilting your face up to look him in the eye, looking concerned. “But I’m into this, I mean, right now. I’m excited. I just thought I should warn you,” you awkwardly laughed at the end.

“You promise? Because you know that if you want to stop we will, and I would never be upset or pressure or anything like that,” he spoke sweetly, making your heart flutter. And you did know that, which is why you felt comfortable. Every other time, you felt that if you went past a certain point, you couldn’t say stop. Couldn’t call it off without making whatever guy you were with super mad and then… who knows what would happen. But when Jared spoke those words, you believed him.

“I promise. And I know you’ll stop. But I don’t want you to.”

With this, he scanned your face one more time for any signs of hesitation, and when he found none, brought you down into another heated kiss. You felt his hand trail from your chin down to your breasts, skimming over your bra, down your stomach and once again to the waistband of your underwear. Only this time he didn’t go under. He stayed on top of the fabric and brought his hand down between your legs, index finger brushing lightly against your core. You barely felt it, and began to worry that you’d once again feel numb. Oftentimes, when guys would touch you or go down on you, you felt nothing. It was like you were broken or something. And you started to become concerned that tonight would be no different.

But he brought his finger down again, repeating the same movement, only with significantly more pressure this time, and it had you release an involuntary sigh. And instead of removing his finger like he had the first time, he kept it over your clit, drawing firm circles.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan, Jared staring intently at your face.

“Oh, wow,” you finally breathed.

“Good?” he asked cockily, wearing a large smirk. He repeated the movement again, drawing a line from your core to your clit, stopping to rub circles.

“Mmm hmm,” you sighed. He leaned in once more to meet you with the sloppiest, dirtiest kiss you two had shared yet, and it only made you grind your center into his hand. He repeated the action several times over, and you were a writhing mess in minutes.

He brought a finger under your waistband once more, stretching the elastic out before letting it snap lightly against your skin. “Let’s take these off, hmm?” You’d never stood up so fast in your life, practically ripping the panties off of you, taking your bra off with it. Jared stood up to remove his shorts, but stopped to stare.

“What?” you questioned shyly, moving to cover up.

“You’re literally the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

The boy quite literally had heart eyes for you.

“Oh,” you responded meekly, cheeks heating up. When you kept looking back at him, he seemed to snap back into the moment and hurriedly ripped off his shorts and underwear, sitting back on the couch and opening his arms for you. You moved to straddle his hips the same way as before, and he brought his arms around to embrace you as you shared another heated kiss. One of his hands moved up to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple as if you were made of glass. Jared pulled his mouth off of yours and trailed his lips down the side of your face, to your jaw, and down onto your neck, suckling lightly and leaving wet kisses. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, and brought one of your hands down between you two to grasp him. He shuddered, only grabbing your hips and bringing you impossibly closer. His other hand trailed down to your center once more, going straight to your core and gathering the slight wetness there before bringing his finger up to your clit and circling. With your underwear out of the way, you felt almost lightheaded at his touch. You never knew how girls could cum during sex before, because you never seemed to feel much at all unless it was pain, but with how aroused you were right now and Jared’s movements, you thought for the first time that you may actually be able to finish. People do say that 90% of sex is mental, and you guessed this is what they meant. The more into it you are, the more physical sensation you actually feel. Groundbreaking.

“Can I finger you?” he murmured huskily into your neck.

You tensed slightly at this, but trusted him. If you said stop, he would. “Ok, just go slow.”

“Of course,” he responded before placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder and bringing his index finger back to your core, swirling around the entrance a few times. You took a few deep breaths to relax your muscles, and he looked at you, wordlessly asking, Ready? You nodded, and he slipped his finger in, just to the first knuckle, and held it still while he brought his thumb to your clit and continued rubbing. When he noticed you visibly relax, he slipped his finger in further to the second knuckle, stopping for a few seconds, and then all the way. He kept it here again, giving you time to adjust or tell him to stop, all the while keeping you stimulated with his thumb. It felt really good. Well, you didn’t exactly feel his finger at all, which was better than pain, and his thumb was making you crazy. Your breathing was labored at this point, eyebrows furrowed as you held onto his shoulders, nails digging in and sure to leave scratches. He pressed the finger inside of you onto your front wall suddenly, massaging the ridges firmly, and you let out a moan. Your first real moan ever. And damn did it get Jared excited. He continued this motion again and again, building in intensity and pressure slowly. When he felt how wet you had become, he pulled his finger back out to the first knuckle, and added his middle finger next to it, sliding them both back in slowly so as not to hurt you. Your eyes widened at the stretch, but it didn’t hurt. It felt amazing.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, before moaning once more as his fingers began the ‘come-hither’ motion once more.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, concerned at your cursing.

“No, feels so good,” you moaned, and he smiled at this, increasing the pressure even more. Your eyes screwed shut, hips stuttering over his hand, letting him finger fuck you for several more minutes as you began to feel a tightening in your stomach. He brought his thumb off of your clit finally, adjusting his hand for a better angle and bringing his other hand off of your waist and up to his mouth, licking his thumb and bringing that down to your clit, resuming the tight circles. You could hear how wet you were, feeling too good to be embarrassed. The heat in your stomach was building, spreading. You felt your legs begin to shake, muscles begin to tighten around his fingers, and your eyes screwed shut as you opened your mouth in a silent scream and came. The waves of pleasure washed over you for a long time, Jared slowing his movements down so as not to overstimulate you. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were panting, legs feeling like Jello. Jared was staring at you with a look of absolute awe on his face, mouth agape and dick rock hard, red, and leaking precum. He was more turned on than he had ever been from actual sex before, and it was only from watching you.

“Fuck, baby that was so hot,” he all but moaned.

You reached down to grasp him, panting a “your turn.”

He grabbed both your wrists, stopping you. “Nuh uh, this is about you. Lie the fuck down.”

You gasped, his dominant tone turning you on despite your recent climax. You both knew that if you were even slightly uncomfortable, things would stop immediately. But it was fun for both of you to let him be a little aggressive. You did as told, lying long ways across the couch cushions, Jared moving to kneel between your legs, moving your knees softly apart so he could look at all of you. You didn’t feel insecure being exposed like this. You felt excited.

“Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this?” he questioned.

“I have never been more sure, Jared baby, I want to,” you pleaded. This was enough for him, so he brought his dick down to line up with your entrance, rubbing the tip up and down a few times to collect your wetness. He was worried that there wouldn’t be enough lubricant, so he brought a hand up to his mouth and spit, rubbing the saliva on his cock.

“You just wait ‘til we get some real lube and a real fucking bed, Princess. You won’t be able to walk for days.” You shuddered at the thought of this, and of the sensation of his dick rubbing around your clit and back down to your entrance. He pushed in slightly, letting the tip in before pausing and checking your face for any signs of pain. When he found none, he pushed in slightly more, and more. He was being extremely slow, and you appreciated it. Guys normally would just shove themselves inside, not giving you any time to adjust before pounding away. But Jared was careful, despite how turned on you knew he was. He still had your best interest in mind. Within a couple of minutes, he was fully seated inside of you, staying still until you told him to move. He brought his face down to give you a sweet kiss, waiting for you to give him the signal.

After a few seconds, you didn’t feel any sort of stinging or pain, so you nodded, saying “Just start slow.”

“Of course,” he replied genuinely. He pulled his hips back just a few inches, before slowly grinding them back into yours. You closed your eyes, focusing on keeping your muscles loose and relaxed as he continues this movement a few more times. The next time he pushed in, he ground his hips further into yours, hitting the deepest parts of you. This had you release a gasp, eyes opening to meet his. “Okay?” he questioned.

“Yes.”

He did this several more times, letting you get used to the feeling of him being so deep inside of you, before your hips began to grind back into his. It felt really good. When he noticed this, he began pulling his hips back more, pushing back in slightly faster, and this had you moaning. You threw your head back, back arched, just enjoying the sensations. Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, definitely leaving scratch marks.

“Oh my God,” you whispered.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he responded, planting sloppy kisses to your neck and collar bone. “Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smiled at this, glad he was enjoying it as much as you were. “Go ahead, cum for me,” you spoke, and your words had him right on the edge. He pulled out of you quickly, hand fisting his cock as he stared at your sweaty, writhing body below him. He came hard, spilling onto your stomach as he growled out, the sound making your toes curl, almost animalistic. You both remained in this position as you came down, breaths labored and eyes barely open. He stood up fully off of the couch and reached for the flimsy blanket on the floor, using it to wipe off your stomach. He threw it into the corner of the room and lay down next to you on the couch, gathering you up into his arms to cuddle.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked almost nervously after a few minutes.

“Nah, kinda sucked,” you teased, and he let out a playful laugh, lightly shoving you away before pulling you back and planting a kiss on your temple.

A pause. “For real though,” he prodded, beginning to panic slightly.

You burst out laughing. “Of course I had a good time, Jared. Best i’ve ever had, if I’m being honest.”

“Ok good,” he sighed, relieved but trying not to show that you actually had him nervous for a second.

Another pause. “Did… did you have a good time?” you questioned back at him.

He seemed almost offended at the question, bringing a hand up to cup your face so that your eyes met his. “Y/N, this was the best night of my entire life. That was perfect. You are perfect. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to do that with you.”

You felt your eyes sting slightly, emotions running wild. You considered yourself the luckiest girl in the world to be with Jared Cameron. Not only was he totally gorgeous, but kind, hilarious, and great in bed.

In an effort to switch the tone back to a more playful one, you replied, “Yeah, well I was promised some more fun involving real lube and a real bed so…”

He tugged you further into him, wrapping his arms around you in a way that made you think he might never let go. He laughed, and said “Oh, you just wait.”

#jared cameron x reader #jared cameron #twilight #wolf pack #paul lahote #sam uley #jacob black #embry call #seth clearwater #quil ateara #edward cullen #twilight smut #vaginismus

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chocominnie · 3 years

Text

Desperado — 09 (M) | JJK

Pairing: Badboy!Jungkook X Reader

Summary : A messy situationship at it’s finest. You don’t even know whats headed your way, just even engaging in the slightest within him. See, he has an assignment to complete. A mission granted by his father thats do or die. You just so happen to be a major pawn in that assignment. He didn’t mean to take an interest in you. Surely it was an accident right? Only except. you hold much value in this game that he’ll do anything to complete it. Oblivious is what you are. Poor thing. Poor.. Poor thing.

Genre: Mature/ Mafia!Jungkook

Trailer: xxxxx preview 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Word Count : 7.3k

Warnings : This honestly isn’t for the light hearted and the weak…High angst, usage of drugs, drug mentions, mental illness, switch!jungkook, Brat reader, possible stockholm syndrom, kidnapping, assault, death of side characters, murder, weapons, usage of weapons, masturbation, physical violence, blood, alcohol, weed, unprotected and protected sex, spanking, honestly its a lot of aruging…

Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

TW : Suicide, Body Hanging for display.

Her hair moves so flawlessly and the her breasts spill over the mini triangle bra with each sensual move she makes. The way her waist and body whines against the pole could leave absolutely anyone in a trance.The rhythm of the music blasts in the air and she’s directly on beat to it, not missing anything through the song playing.

The led lights are dimmed low enough in a red color, but enough for everyone to see. Shes uncaring at the men in the room sizing her up in her designer high waisted thong that hugs her hips very well, showing off her round, plump ass. That was what she wanted, the attention all on her while they throw hundred dollar bills for her.

“ Who knew someone could get down and dirty like that.”

To no suprise, Jimin, the ladies man but heartbreaker for sure, enters the private room and closing the door beind him. He throws a stack of money towards her, as he was the seemingly late one to the meet-up.

“ Jungkook is late, he’s never late. What’s taking him so long?” A grumpy Namjoon says, looking down at his apple-watch. It’s half past 10 pm and usually he’s the first one here.

“ He’s probably sucking up to yn-”

The girl turns her head sharply towards the boys, overhearing what they said. She furrows her eyebrows at them, “ Why would he be doing that..”

Taehyung lets out a small groan. “ Because Mr. Lover boy has gotten himself a crush. The worst part is, she’s his target for this mission.”

“ Shut the fuck up. I don’t have a crush on her, i’m just doing my job.” A semi-loud voice roars through the doors. Everyone stops to look at the sudden intruder and to relief it’s him, Jungkook.

Of course he has to lie about that. He knew for sure he caught himself up with you and the feelings were strong. Though the big bad mafia boy catching feelings for his target is highly uncommon, and Jungkook doesn’t know the consequences.

“ Jungkook..” The girl says, frowning at him with her hand on her hips. He takes a seat on the couch and tilts his head at her to go on. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the young boy. “ You fell for her.. so what about us?”

It isn’t hard to say that he doesn’t have any more feelings left for the girl. She and him both knew what they agreed upon. The pair had history together, sexual to be exact. Romance was hardly there if he were to be honest. She’d began actually working for Won-Shik, under this club they’re in now which is owned by him, a year ago. Jungkook had entered the club once when he was considered a minor, but that was to pass a message along to the girl from his father. He was told to go straight in and straight out. Of course, he did the exact opposite. Sat around looking at all the half naked women that night as the music blared loud.

It wasn’t until his phone rang and it was Casper telling him to hurry up and come back to the car, is when he finally decided to get up and look for the girl. When he did find her, it was over with for him. The girl was, and still is, stunning. One of the many foreign girls in the club but she’s the one that stood out of all. She wore nothing but a small outfit as she danced on the pole. Her beauty mesmorized Jungkook that night as he watched her dance in awe. Soon enough she came to him showing her her dimply smile and perfect teeth.

He was stunned alright. She knew he looked to be too young for the club so she asked him his age. He told her, and thats when she nearly called security on him until he told her who he was and affiliated with. The message was passed along accordingly to her, she got the memo. Jungkook though, kept coming back to that club and always going to where she was, following her around the club like a lost puppy. She enjoyed his time, as all she did was sit and talk with him and that turned out to not be enough for him. He wanted her, and she insisted that he was too young for her.

So Jungkook did what any other person would do when feeling rejected, he started to present himself like a true man and mafia boy. The gym was his favorite place after that and he buffed up very well. That jawline of his got sharper and his personality gained more confidence and dominant by the time he turned nineteen. He of course kept going at her, shooting his shot anytime he could and yet kept getting denied. It wasn’t until his nineteenth birthday is when he begged her telling her how bad he wanted her, and that lap dance he kept suggesting months before. Since it was his birthday and he was legal, she gave him what he wanted but that still wasn’t enough for him. He wanted her underneath him bad. The slight age gap between them didn’t phase Jungkook at all. What he wants, is what he gets.

And he did.

And kept getting it, and getting it, and getting it since then.

“ Relax baby, I’ll still be coming around you know that.” His voice is smooth, smirking at her. He wasn’t going to be coming around as much, but he knew that would disappoint her.

She purses her lips and begins walking towards him and sits directly on his lap, straddling him. Jungkook can’t push her off the way he wants to because it would confirm the crush rumors from the boys about you. So he lets her sit there, uncomfortable as hell for him.

Namjoon clears his throat to get the rest of the group attention. It’s nearly 11 pm and Crystal has been blowing up his phone ever since he stepped foot in the club. He told her beforehand about the meeting, but she wanted him at her apartment by at least 1 am.

“ We all know you love yn, but remember who you are Jungkook.” Namjoon says, glaring at the boy who returns the glare back at him. “ Fuck you. Like I said, im just doing my job.”

“ If you were doing your job Jungkook, there’s no way in the hell that it should take you this long. “ Jin retaliates. He knows hes right.

By this time, Jimin had finished preparing seven perfectly rolled blunts filled with the most finest imported weed. He places them onto the tray, taking his own and then passing the tray to Yoongi. Each of the boys take their own until it reaches down to Jungkook who takes his and puts the tray back onto the table.

“ Enough about her. I was summoned to go over the details for the next seven days. “ Jungkook groans, sparking his blunt and inhaling. He passes it Melanie, who takes it to inhale as well.

A malicious smile comes upon Yoongi’s face as he exhales the smoke into the already fogged up air. One thing he loves to talk about is torture. One of bangtan’s best walking torture device to be known.

“ Tonight we are starting.. I say you let me go first.” Yoongi pauses, taking a long inhale of his blunt. “ I’m coming for their trade transaction place. Arson, let me burn the bitch down and then fuck around with their father.”

It’s a good idea. Sending a message after burning it down straight to it’s opponent. Fire is Yoongi’s thing, and that’s his signature marking in the Bangtan Boys. The father of the shooter was one of their dealers, until the shooter’s father fucked up by taking money out of bangtan’s cut little by little. The boys knew about it, they waited for the perfect time back then to take action. Of course, giving them a mission to complete.. or so he thought. The mission was a false one. Created by Jungkook to catch him off guard. Jungkook used some of the mafia men on Won-Shik’s side to set up a trade off of drugs, decieving the shooter’s father by thinking they were just setting up a regular mafia trade from another gang. The trade was complete, but their protection was no more. Needless to say, the men didn’t even make it back to their cars. It was a bloodshed war between Jungkook’s assigned men and their men. The point was to send a memo that the Bangtan Boys were coming for them, and coming hard.

Everynight for two weeks unimaginable signs were sent to their family. Ranging all the way from several gunshot bullets going through their home, to severed heads of previous betrayers of the bangtan boys, sitting right on their porch. By now, all the other gangs in Korea knew not to have any business with them.

“ Day 2 I want it. I’m going for the mother. That scamming bitch and her precious flower shop? I’m shooting it up. Whoever lives, lives. Whoever dies, dies.” Jimin shrugs, smirking as he leans back in his spot.

“ Day 3, for me I’m sending another message. One of their men is gonna die in my god damn hands. I’ll be sure to take a selfie and send it to the father. The body will lay hanging on that pretty little oak tree in their yard.” Taehyung says. The boys are roar with shock that he’s said that. Normally he doesn’t like touching a dead body, so it’s a change for him.

The boys continue listing off the days and assigned tasks for the rest of the night into the wee early morning. Namjoon left after his, of course going straight to his girls apartment. They don’t judge him, seeing as though the boy really is in love and knows when and how to handle it. He definately doesn’t mix business and his love life together, unlike his other hyung. Soon enough the banter and socializing ends and it’s time for Yoongi first.

Night 1

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to find the place. The empty steets of Seoul have soon faded into just dirt roads with the city left behind. The humming of his porsche echos through the night time air. Yoongi takes one final turn, making sure to pull into the place slowly like a true hunter keeping it’s eye on its prey. It’s not a full house tonight, even better.

Taking the jug of gasoline out his car, he carries it with ease up to the empty warehouse. The wildlife outside don’t make a noise. As if they know who’s approaching and just shut right up. Forty degrees fahrenheit outside and lastnight’s snowfall piled all around.The darkness outside is haunting, anything could pop out at any second to kill the man. That doesn’t scare him at all. Darkness is always what he crave. Inside and out.

“ Sir.. do you want us to go in with you?”

Yoongi stops dead in his tracks. He’d almost forgotten about the back-up men Jungkook ordered for him. It’s not like he needed them anyways, but since Jungkook can’t be there with Yoongi, that was the next best choice.

Rolling his eyes without turning around,“ No. Wait in your cars. I’ll handle it on my own.”

Just like that. The boys are off like lightening. Yoongi takes one final step towards the two double doors, and begins to pour the gasoline at it’s starting point. Usually, he’d go from the inside out, but seeing as though he wanted them to scurry out fearing for their lives, this is the next option as well. Soon enough, the enire jug is empty and he’s now poured all of it around the outside of the warehouse. Leaves crunch with every step he makes back to the starting point. Part of him hopes they can’t hear him from the outside. It’ll ruin the plans.

The lighter in his pocket feels so smoothe against his palms as he reaches for it. It’s one of his signature ones with his initials on it. An andrenaline rush runs through his veins as flicks the ignition with his thumb. The flame all bright and orange as he stands there infront of the building. It’s going to be a damn good night.

Without hesitating, Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair and throws the lighter right onto the gasoline puddles. The way the whole ring of fire lights up infront of his eyes makes him laugh hysterically while watching the whole building go into flames. The loud crackling sounds of the now decomposing warehouse jumps him back into reality.

He heads right towards the big tree next to the right of the warehouse, leaning on it with one foot up against it with his hands crossed. That sinister smile doesn’t leave his face. He enjoys the view of the men from the inside running out as fast as they can. Some falling in the ring of fire in the process. The fire is no match for any human as they try to stop drop and roll. Ha, as if that would work with a 15 foot fire consuming the warehouse. The dead bodies pile up on their own, just burning in the fire over their simple mistakes of falling and thinking they would survive the fire.

Until the golden egg comes out. He’s furious as runs out perfectly, as if he’s been through this, without managing to catch on fire. Yoongi chuckles, leaning off the tree. “ Kang Dong-Woo.”

Usually Yoongi would use the honorfics to people who were much older than him. In this case though, he doesn’t deserve honorifics.

“ Min Yoongi.” He says, harshness laced within his voice. Dongwoo frowns when nearing the man. He knows what Yoongi is capable of, and that’s what sets his fight for flight into action.

“ Let’s get straight to it. Your daughter is after our leader. She seems to be doing the dirty work for you yeah? Did you not train her enough? Of course you know she wont be able to live after this right?”

Dongwoo laughs right into Yoongi’s face as if he was joking. It angers Yoongi, so he grabs Dongwoo by the shirt and drags the man over to the fire where he kicks the back of his legs to where he’s kneeling inches away from it.

“ I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Dongwoo.” He growls, tightening his grip around Dongwoo’s arms that are behind his back. “ You want to die?”

“ She’s gonna fuck you all over.” He growls.” You may think she’s not capable of finishing off you guys one by one, but she is. I raised and trained her since a kid. She’s stronger with more energy than me. She’ll kill you all when you least expect it.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at him.” The dumb bitch can’t even shoot right. Going for someone else knowing Jungkook would save them is an ameteur move. Should’ve went straight for his damn head.”

“ I’ll make sure she’ll bring you guys hell Min Yoongi. All of you. Tell that shit to Jungkook and his daddy for me alright?” He mocks, laughing again at the boy to taunt him.

Yoongi doesn’t care for it. He’s had enough of this foolish talk. With one swift move he kicks the man’s back making him fall down to the left side, away from the fire. He’s lost it. He’s totally lost it at this point and there is no going back. Kick after kick after kick, he doesn’t stop. No. Not until the Dongwoo is sure to cough up blood. The crimson liquid poors from his mouth as he lays there. No remorse is felt.

Besides, the bastard bitch needed to get the message. Consider it message recieved.

Night 2

The flower shop is full, but not full to its entirety. There's tons of different bouquets and arrangements set around the pretty shop, from what he can see from the outside. It’s almost closing time, an hour left. Jimin’s fingertips grip on the steering wheel, anxious but patient to make his move. He’s running off of pure adrenaline and 2 cans of monster that are crushed and sitting in the passenger seat. Waiting isn’t his forte and he’d honestly like to get this show on the road now.

The moon is out and shining bright tonight. A sigh escapes his lips when he glances again at the shop. The only reason he’s not done it yet is due to the fact that there is a child and his mother inside. Rule number 2 of Bangtan, injure no child. The price to pay if you were to break the rule? Simply it would cost you your own damn life.

As if time would of went any slower for the boy, the child and his mother finally made their transaction and made it out of the store, heading across the street to continue their journey of shopping. It’s go time.

He knew to come prepared with his bulletproof vest and full face ski mask, long Sleeve black shirt to cover all the markings he has and also the two tattoos on each of his arms. He knew that the little lady wouldn’t be so dumb to not carry, or at-least have someone inside that would be her undercover security. Considering who her husband is, there’s no way she won’t be protected.

Oh how innocent the people look to not know what’s coming next. Jimin loads his Glock 19 with golden bullets that have Bangtan Boys initials and symbols on it just before pulling his mask down and getting out the car. He makes sure to signal his back-up men to create a distraction so he could make his entrance. Sure enough, a loud boom in the near distance of what sounds like some type of construction falling, echos loudly. It turns heads from all around to look where the sound came from, making it easy for Jimin to slide into the flower-shop.

Not a sound made by him. He draws his gun and pulls the safety off the trigger, then cocks it. Eyes are all on him as his eyes shift around the room looking for his target. There she is, eyes wide in the middle of a transaction for two middle aged couple. His eyes set into hers, lowly smiling and pointing it at her. The way everyone frantically screams and cries out doesn’t phase Jimin, no. It just encourages him even more as he starts firing shots mid air, shooting any and every person in sight for the hell of it. Bodies drop to the ground, and the bloodbath begins.

Jimin doesn’t hesitate to step over everybody, eyes still set on his target. The middle aged couple’s shrieks were cut short by their bodies dropping to the ground with three shots each to their hearts.

“ Park J-” He cuts her crying off with a finger to his lips, daring her to say his name in public. She gets the memo. “ I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The barrel is pressed against her temple as she trembles with fear. He cocks his head to the side, smiling at her when he taps the gun against her head harshly, repeatedly. “ You know why I’m here.”

“ You kill me and she will murder you all.”

Jimin chuckles, “ That’s what you guys think. We don’t have time for your gimmicks. It was you guys who stole money from us. Why did you think you’d still be protected from the law from us? Getting your daughter to go for the leader first is dumb, like the rest of you.”

“ We almost went to prison for you guys, remember that? We needed that cut money from you guys to pay off our legal fees. Thats why we stole. We completed your dirty work while trying to pay off the fees, its the least you guys could of did as a reward.”

“ That’s not how it would’ve worked. You fucked up. All of you.”

With two shots to the leg, she falls into Jimins arms. He rolls his eyes and throws his body off of him and onto the floor. It’s going to be a headache trying to explain to the dry cleaners why there is blood stains on his designer ripped jeans.

Night 3

It was too easy, way too easy. It took nothing to lure that man right into Taehyung’s trap. Nothing but a simple few slick comments made to him for him to get a riled up at the wrong person. Taehyung had spotted the man prior heading into the park with a small duffle bag. He assumed it was for a night trade off for some other person who had delivered drugs for him. Nontheless, it was merely too easy to pose as the alleged person who completed the mission.

A rookie. That guy must’ve been a rookie.

When the money was handed off to Taehyung, he tossed it to the side and struck the man down. The two did fight on the concrete floor for a bit but the man was no match for Taehyung’s quick moves. Taehyung’s pocket knife dances around the man’s throat as his body is pinned to the ground.

“ Rookie mistake not verifying if I’m the real one.” He chuckles, pressing the blade against the mans neck. The man pleads for his life but it’s no use. Message must be sent, that it’s no way you’ll fuck around with Bangtan and escape.

“ You know, I would’ve trained you more than Dongwoo. Letting the weakest link go run an errand? Ha. Your boss set you up for that one.”

Although the man is merely innocent, it doesn’t stop Taehyung from slicing into the man’s neck. A blood curdling scream comes out, but soon hushed over as his will of breathing and screaming is cut. It’s music to Tae’s ears.

The body is transfered per request of Taehyung to his back-up men. It’s not like him to touch a bloody dead body. So they take him into the back of their car and follow Taehyung to the residential house of the shooter. Nothing more than 10 minutes away.

The lights are cut off in the neighborhood. Not a sound made other than the two cars coming down the street. Everyone seems to be at peace and quiet in their homes. Sleeping to say the least. Upon arrival, Taehyung parks his car right infront of the house. The back-up men drag the bloody body out the car and onto their lawn, placing it right under the oak tree.

Taehyung takes the rope be brought along with him, and begins to tie multiple knots around a sturdy branch from the tree. When done, he wraps some of the rope around the dead boy’s neck, tying it into a slipknot and hoists him up high into the air.

The body dangles from the tree like a flag waving in the sky proud and high. He signals for the boys that the assignment is done and that they’re free to leave. Taehyung though, he just sits back in admiration of his work. It’s been a while sinice he felt this way. So he stands there soaking it all in.

Message recieved.

Since it’s been three entire days of hell, Jungkook knew his day will be approaching faster than ever. If only it could get here faster though. Truth is, Won-Shik isn’t too happy about Jungkook’s plan still not being complete. At this point, the father is going against him any chance he gets to just get this over with.

Luckily, tonight he’d be able to meet with his father again with some good news. It hasn’t been brought to his attention yet about your father being in Taiwan. With the technology of Won-Shik’s men, your father could be brought here within 12 hours tops.

“ Father.” Jungkook says, entering his office doors. The boy fixes his leather jacket upon entering and places his hands back into his pockets. “ I have news.”

Won-Shik is one to not play around with. Interupting his office time is a big, big deal. One is to not enter without it being urgency. That rule still applies to the heir of the company. “ It better be damn good because your plan isn’t getting anywhere Jeon Jungkook.”

Won-Shik takes his glasses off and sets them to the side on his desk. Its full of papers and photos of himself and Jungkook when he was a child. His favorite one right in the middle, where Jungkook had just ate some cherry flavored ice cream and his lips were all red as he smiled for the camera showing his two front teeth. It reminded him of when Jungkook was easier to manage rather as to now where he’s a damn menace.

“ Taiwan. Her father is in Taiwan. I don’t think it’s Taipei though.. he’s hiding so a city wouldn’t be ideal. I say search the mountains first, then the city.”

Bringing this proposal to the table meant that Jungkook wanted to atleast gain his father’s trust back. Hell, he wanted all this to be over with by now because you were driving him crazy to the point where he’s beginning to actually forget who the hell he was and why he was assigned this mission. The plan was not to fall, but to complete. He’d be lying if he wasn’t knee deep in love with you right now. It all comes down to him protecting you from his father at this point.

“ So your little plan is suddenly working huh.. still doesn’t mean she gets to run free Jungkook.” He says, smirking at the boy to challange him. Jungkook knew that. Once it’s proven that your father is the snitch, all of the family dies.

You’re innocent. Too innocent to know that or to be even tangled in that mafia mess of his. Part of him wishes he never met you and never had been assigned this mission. Then everything would be so damn different and emotions wouldn’t be caught up in this. From the moment he met you, he knew it would be hard. You have always held a special part in his heart. Only because you acted just like his mother. Sweet, but sassy and it hurt him a lot on how you remind him of her. You even word your words just like her, even when upset. Everything about you, is just like her.

It was hard to not get attached to wanting to get to know you more. Somehow he thought that if he got to know you, he’d somehow fill that hole inside him of his mother’s disappearance. As if you were going to be his new replica as you would be the one to put a band-aid on that hole to patch it up.

Here you are, not knowing you could die any moment and it will all be thanks to Jeon Jungkook, who couldn’t save you fast enough.

“ I know. But she’s innocent. She doesn’t even know her dad worked with us. I swear she doesn’t.” Jungkook bites his lip in hopes that there could be someway to save you by the hands of your father.

“ I dont care!” He roars, jumping out his seat. Jungkook flinches, backing up a bit from the sudden outburst. “ You know not to mix business and pleasure. You reap what you sew. You get to pay the consequences.”

Jungkook knew that though.

“ Father-”

“ Nothing more. I’ll have my team start the search right now. You on the other hand, get you god-damn shit together Jungkook. You’re the heir, not a damn lover-boy. Got it?”

It is no use of arguing with him. Jungkook looks down at the ground and nods his head yes just before Won-Shik dismisses him. It’s going to hurt. Seeing you dead. He hopes for a miracle can happen, that your father will not be the snitch. That you and him could live happily ever after. There will no be any happily ever after about this situation though. One will die. Just a matter of who it will be.

The vibrating sensation in his pocket snaps him out of his trance. An incoming call from Namjoon. It’s alarming since today is Namjoon’s day of hell, and only one thing could be happening right now if he’s calling for Jungkook.

There’s been a mistake.

“ What is it Namjoon.”

“ She fucking outsmarted me. The bitch caught on to where my location would be for the next kill. I don’t know where the fuck she is Jungkook.. this is bad.”

Jungkook sighs heavily, closing his eyes while letting out strings of curses come from his mouth. Shit couldn’t get possibly worse than this right now. Namjoon said he’d wanted to go straight for the killer and bust her up a bit. Give her some words and a branding on her. He had wanted to do it with a knife, carving the initals of Bangtan Boys into her upper hip. Namjoon had zero problem tracking her next location down, as he had been keeping an eye on her all day. To him, it seemed as if she would be heading to an orchestra shop in the city. Every step she took, Namjoon took it too.

Until she rounded the corner to go inside the shop and she wasn’t there. There wasn’t any outlet. The shop was on a dead end street surrounded by other shops that they both had passed. There was no way she didn’t go back, he would of saw it. He saw her go into the store, so she had to be there right?

Wrong. You see she knew all this time that Namjoon was followering her while in disguise. The orchestra shop where she led him to, she knew the owner. They were good friends. She had spoken to him asking if that she could use his upstairs office to read over some of the newest edition of music pieces for her to practice. He obliged, and she made up there in time before Namjoon came inside.

Up there, she’d be lying if she wasn’t scared to death. All this week the boys had definately given her hell. Each day with zero remorse. It was taking a toll on her for sure. Taking up this assignment by herself wasn’t something easy but she wanted to prove to him that she can be just like him. That she wanted to work with him too to take down Bangtan for decieving them and leaving them in the dust.

She can’t do it. The boys are to expierenced for her. It’s a bad mistake that she cannot come back from. You see, she thought it would be easy to befriend you and become close to you after you’d laid eyes upon Jungkook your first day here. She knew you’d soon fall for him, like any other girl did, and that would be her easy acess to him from you. It was all planned beforehand. To be quiet and observe you and your moves with him. In her mind, Jungkook needed to die first. The boys can’t function all that well without him, so that would be the weak spot to take advantage of if he would’ve died when she knew he’d take the bullet for you. She coudn’t shoot him first, it’d be too straightforward and blunt.

It was going all well. Deep in the inside she was jealous of you as well. Sungmin had been her crush for years, they even almost dated. Until you came along and he left her in the dust for you. Sungmin is everything she wanted in a boy, but you took that away from her. Her chances to date him ruined by you. It hurt everyday to see him head over heels in love with you, when that was just her at one point before you came along. Not only that, but she seen the way you play with Sungmin’s emotions. It made her upset that you do that. Sungmin’s love is a drug, whether it be friendship love or romantic, nobody can get enough of it.

All this stressed her out to her max. Her family being hurt because of her, her mom unable to walk for the next few weeks is all because of her. Only cause she cannot complete this task she brought onto herself. As if being in danger because of Won-Shik and Bangtan wasn’t enough beforehand, she just made things worse all in all. There is no way out of this for her and her family. So it’s time to just accept it and say goodbye to it all and start a new life.

“ I’ll find her. You wait at the base and I’ll report back to you guys after I find her. When I do, you will come and finish your damn task Namjoon. Do you hear me?” Jungkook’s beyond pissed at this point. If it wasn’t for him, the boys would be lost as fuck without him.

He shoots Casper a text, letting him know that he is to follow him closely as he searches for her. To his luck, Casper was already outside his apartment building in his car. Not long after he pops those contacts in and changes his outfit again, he’s cruising the streets of Seoul in his midnight purple lamborghini.

The pain in his shoulder throbs with each turn he has to make with the wheel of his car. A little pain medicine would of helped beforehand, but rushing to get this shit over with was more important. This bitch definately has it coming. It’s been taking Jungkook these past few days to not just up and kill her. No that would just be too easy. Torture and marinating her to lose her shit at the last minute is something so satisfying to him.

The streets of Seoul soon end behind him and the Mappo Bridge comes into view. It had been an a whole hour searching around the areas of where she could’ve been, including where she was last seen. No sights of her at all. She’s good at this for sure. Text messages are sent back and forth between the boys and Jungkook. They’re all on edge, tired, and frustrated at this chasing game that they’re all playing.

He’d almost missed it. The body walking alongside the side-walk of the bridge with their head hanging low and hoodie on. It’s the hoodie of his school, but most importantly it has their class graduation year on it. It has to be her. Jungkook flashes his hazard lights on, letting Casper know to pull over with him.

It’s now or never.

After sending the text to Namjoon, he’s out the car and jogging towards the suspect. Height, body type, and shoes match the alleged identity. It seems she’s too into something to notice the extra footsteps behind her. He can’t do anything to her though, it’s not his night.

“ Kang Minlee.”

She stops dead in her tracks as if a ghost had called her name. Frozen, she stands there contemplating on running or staying. If she runs, she’s dead. If she stays, shes dead.

“ You think..” He pauses, grabbing her arm and turning her around to face him. Her face is red from crying and her glasses all fogged up from underneath her mask. For a split second, Jungkook does feel regret.

Killing a classmate of his wasn’t something he’d ideally let happen. But it’s far too late to not have her killed off. “ You think that running away is the best option?”

Minlee trembles underneath his grip, “ I made a mistake. Please just let me go. Let me and my family go and we’ll leave you alone forever.” She breaks down into tears, placing her hand over his in attempt to let her go.

It didn’t hurt Jungkook to see her like this. All in all it just feels weird to him. Weird to have one of his classmates begging for her life to be spared from the gruesome events to come.

“ You know I can’t do that.” It honestly can’t be an option at this point. It’d be better to just continue out her days of hell with her family. “ You came for me, that means you die.”

Finally she jerks her arm back from his still in tears as she starts to back away slowly. Jungkook knew that she wouldn’t run. Not in this case. Letting her cry it out was the best way, hell it’s the only way because Namjoon would be here any minute to brand her. It would mean she belonged to Bangtan after that, and she’d have to keep quiet as they planned out her death.

Her sudden movement from the ground to climbing up the railing of the bridge alarms Jungkook. She cries louder when Jungkook comes closer to getting her down so he stops. Suicide? Right now? What happened to being all big and bold? It confuses Jungkook as to why she would take her own life right now. Either way she’d still end up dead and unhappy if Bangtan would kill her or she’d kill herself.

“ Jungkook!” She semi-yells, pointing to the direction behind him as another guy approaches them. Just in time, the sound of Namjoon’s car can be heard from afar. He’s getting close.

The guy she’s pointed to is Casper, who’s also alarmed at the fact that she’s close to the edge right now. Jungkook holds his hand up at Casper for him to stop right there and shakes his head, meaning that it’s too risky for Casper to step in right now. Casper nods and Jungkooks turns back to the scene.

“ Don’t you think that I’ve suffered enough? Everyday you guys give me hell. My mom can’t walk because of you guys, and my dad has health issues. You left us in the dust when we needed your support the most! I was almost put up for adoption a year ago because of you!” She sobs, wiping her never ending tears with her hoodie sleeves.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, or do. It’s not like him to have sympathy over a rival. It’s just not in him at this very moment.

Minlee continues on, “ Yn? She took what’s mine. My Sungmin. She plays with his heart and it hurts him a lot. I wouldn’t have did that. But no, he’s head over heels in love with him. I got left in the dust when she came along and it looks like everyone loves her, including you Jungkook. My friendgroup does anything and everything she wants because she’s just oh so little miss perfect. That was supposed to be me!”

There it is. The jealousy. Jungkook would have never known it. It’s all news and shock to him. Sungmin and Minlee? Didn’t seem like a match to begin with.

Her dramatic meltdown continues on, but Jungkook allows it. Namjoon will be here any minute to sneakily get her down. Where is he and why the hell is he taking so long?

As if on cue, Namjoon pulls up to the scene and immediately gets out his car running towards the girl. Jungkook waves his hands for him to stop, eyes wide with a finger to his lips. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to jump. A death from their school? Surely was to be put on him and his boys.

Namjoon stops infront of Jungkook’s car, confused as to what’s going on. Jungkook mouthes to him the words suicide attempt. That’s when Namjoon gets it and decides to let him handle getting her down.

“ Yeah it was meant to be you. But I plan to take Yn away anyways. Then you and Sungmin could come together again.” Jungkook’s convincing isn’t convincing enough, she doesn’t buy it at all.

“ If I get down I’m going to die. There is no escaping that within the next few days i’d be dead in your hands. I made a mistake and there is no going back. Spare my parents. Let them live. I’m the one that started this. I’ll be the one to finish it.”

The girl lifts one foot off the railing and leans backwards. Jungkook’s breath hitches along with Namjoons. No. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“ Kang Minlee!” They both scream, running towards her. It’s too late though. Her body falls gracefully down as all three of them watch over the railing. She looks peaceful, a smile on her face while her body is sprawled out in the air.

Inches before she hits the water, the three of the boys look away with only the sound of dense water splashing to fill their ears. Namjoon sighs, putting his hands against his head. Jungkook stands there in complete shock. Casper, well Casper just shakes his head knowing the two boys weren’t prepared for that.

“ We fucked up Jungkook.”

“ I fucking know that Namjoon.” His voice cracks. It isn’t like Jungkook to cry. No not at all. Especially for a target like that. At the end of the day she was human and she did what any daughter would do for her family.

She was also your friend.

You hadn’t heard about her death yet the next day. It’s a normal saturday morning for you. This time you’d decided to go to the cafe with your laptop and write your essay for your Psychology class. The cafe is nice, it’s cat themed and has some pretty kittens running around the outside of the kitchen and customer service area.

As soon as you order and sit down with your Caramel frappe you spot a white kitten laying near you on the floor. A smile comes upon your face when it comes to you when you call for it. They don’t have these in Canada. Cat Cafes. The kitten lets out his purrs when you rub his back as he lays across your lap. The nametag says Mochi, a cute name for a cute kitten.

Minutes seem to pass by without your knowledge. You’d been too into typing to hear the news on the tv being broadcasted live. It wasn’t until you heard suicide of a teenage student on Mappo Bridge. That got your attention.

You listen carefully as the news reporter goes into detail of how the body was found. It had gotten caught on a rock as the stream moved it around. A mother had found it with her kid as they walked across the bridge that early morning to look at beautiful water. It saddens you to know someone took their life. Maybe if that person had access to getting help, they’d live to see many more days.

When they announce the name and show a school picture of the student, the look on your face drops.

Minlee. It’s Minlee on the screen. Its all too much for you right now. Your stomach twists and turns along with your hands that begin fidgeting. She seemed so healthy and happy these past few days when you saw her. It didn’t add up. It wasn’t going to ever add up to you that you had just lost one of your new friends.

Packing your things up in a hurry, your phone begins to go off with a bunch of text messages at a time. You know it could be the groupchat. What you wanted to the most right now, is to go home to cry and calm down. You shove everything in your backpack and place the kitten back on the floor nicely before taking off towards the door. You bump into somebody on the way out, causing them to drop a picture in their hand. The two of you both reach to pick it up, but they pick it up first before you.

“ I’m sorr-”

You’ve seen her before. Long curled hair, big dimple on her left cheek, and bangs.

There’s no fucking way.

183 notes · View notes

nagitoandkokichioneshots · 3 years

Note

Can you write some Nagito X ultimate hope female reader please?

-When Nagito hears about your talent, he most likely definitely went feral

-Not even Akane and Nekomaru was enough to keep him from kissing your hand a million times and muttering apologizes from “intoxicating your breathing space with his worthless existence” or “boring you with his trashy presence”

-Lord, please shut him up, he ain’t trash, he’s amazing

-Prior to dating, Nagito basically sees you as a goddess and makes sure you are treated as such

-It can range from using his luck to earn you extra snacks from the vending machine or slipping you a ‘cheat sheet’ during your exams and making sure the teacher was distracted

-And, of course, the white haired male just HAD to shower you with praise and compliments. Not a day went by in school where the infamous lucky student wasn’t flooding you with affectionate words and benevolent messages about how a goddess of hope like yourself brightened each room you walked into with just your company. Even the ground you walked in, Nagito would literally get on his knees and kiss your shoes, hoping some of your hopefulness would rub off on scum like him

-He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but you were ultimate hope after all! Surely the literal goddess of hope like yourself could be tender enough to even worthless trash like him, right?

-You were a bit uncomfortable from Nagito’s painted image of you as a god-like figure, but nevertheless, you found your new classmate good-natured and selfless. Sure, the pale skinned boy can get quite....intense with his emotions, but his heart of gold was in a good place

-At first, Nagito’s idolizations about you and your talent was a dead-ringer of his hope rants. If you were to maintain eye contact during a conversation about his ultimate hope classmate, you’d notice the swirls forming as he’d flash a crazed smile

-Can you blame him? Nagito’s obsession with hope was practically manifested into a physical form. You had numerous responsibilities as ‘ultimate hope’ such as traveling to ‘despairing’ parts of the world and bettering the lives of people there. You were sent to help out developing countries, participate in charities, offer assistance to anyone that required any, all while being a cheerful and mature rolemodel that newcomers, young and old, can look up to and call ‘ultimate hope’

-”Ah, the ultimate hope is willing to have lunch with a worthless piece of trash like me? I’m honored, (Y/N). But you shouldn’t waste your time and taint your hopeful presence by sitting next to me. You should be a shining symbol of hope with the other Ultimates. I--”

-”Nagito, we’ve been friends for six months. Please shut up and let me have lunch with you”

-Over time, Nagito’s identical hope rants and raves about you would slowly start to distinguish themselves from each other. At first, it would be hard to tell, but gradually one would be able to know when he was talking about your ultimate hope talent, or...yourself?

-Nagito would be the most interested in your talent, even being a bit biased when comparing you to the other ultimates. You can argue it was ‘love at first sight’ when he saw the literal embodiment of hope. He knew that you just had to be an angel sent from heaven and bestowed as a gift to him. Was this is ultimate good luck? The goddess of hope even batting a lash at him? It was too good to be true

-He felt selfish with keeping you away from the other ultimates. He was greedy with constantly clinging onto you. He would’ve kept his distance on his bad/unlucky days, in fear of harming his precious hope angel. But when he was feeling confident about having a ‘normal day’ (or has normal as he can have), he would follow you like a servant. Waiting on you hand and foot, making sure that you felt like the goddess he claimed you were

-”Ah, just imagine it! The Ultimate hope spending time with me? Can it be like this forever? Ah, I wish it was....she’s bright, intelligent, kind, cheerful, and such a joy to be around. She’s an angel! Someone like me shouldn’t have such thoughts, but please tell me....do you think she would love me back? Oh, who am I kidding? I’m nothing but mere scum underneath her feet. I should be apologizing for holding her back, not pursuing h--”

-”Umm....Nagito?” Hajime asked his best friend, a brow cocked on his confused face. It was no secret that you were all the Ultimate lucky student talked about when you started to attend Hope Peak’s. However, it was the reserve course student that spotted the first noticeable difference between his hope rants and praise lists about you

-”You just....did you just confess that you want to date (Y/N)-san?” He asked the platinum haired boy, making Nagito freeze, realizing what he just said

*****************************************************************************************************

-Asking you out? More like Hajime and Chiaki asked you out for Nagito

-To save you the details, Chiaki pulled you into your classroom, only filled with four people: You, Chiaki, Nagito, and Hajime

-Hajime and Nagito were sitting next to each other, talking to each other, while you and Chiaki has just entered

-A pink blush dusted on Nagito’s cheek and bridge of his nose, seeing your beautiful appearance shine through the almost empty classroom. He darted his ghostly green orbs back to Hajime, failing to conceal the love filled glances he threw your way

-”Hey, Hey, (Y/N)?” The gamer girl asked you, tilting her head as she gripped the straps of her backpack. You sat down at your desk, placing your messenger bag down near your desk

-”What’s up, Chiaki?” You asked your sleepy gamer friend. In contrast to her soft voice, Chiaki might as well gave Nagito a heart attack right on the spot, with the inquiry that fell out of her mouth

-”Nagito likes you. Will you go out with him?” She questioned you, placing a finger between her lips. You just froze, while snapping your (E/C) eyes to the notorious lucky student. Nagito probably swallowed the breakfast he had his morning, as he was ready to puke on the spot. He went whiter (than usual) and just turned into a statue. Meanwhile, Hajime was smiling a bit awkwardly, sweat beating from his temple. Nevertheless, he had his iphone in his hands, recording the whole thing

-A simple shrug and a “Sure, why not?” was enough to make the previous frozen marshmallow flush a bright pink and practically faint in his seat. Chiaki was about to turn around and tell Nagito the great news, only to find the lucky student practically passed out in his chair. Hajime sighed and propped his best friend up on the seat while (Y/N) let out a small giggle, excited for their date

*****************************************************************************************************

-When you and Nagito started a committed romantic relationship, everything felt like a breath of fresh air--it was absolutely delightful. Nagito still had tendencies to worship you and put you on a pedestal, but that was only because he loved you so much!

-He calls you his ‘goddess of hope’, realizing that you were the personification of hope poured into a silhouette of a charming looking young lady, whom he got to love for not only the hope inside of her, but herself as well!

-Nagito, overtime, got to know the Ultimate hope for being the most...well hopeful person in the world! Your talent was just as beloved as you, and cherished every aspect of you. It got a bit uncomfortable, especially with the other ultimates feeling their ‘ultimate fanboy’ being taken away from them in comparison to the newest classmate to join the now full class

-But that was okay! He worshipped and vowed to treasure he beloved goddess--his angel! He was quite literally attached to her, clingy onto his loved one. His rants about hope were overshadowed by how much he adored (Y/N)--the Ultimate hope

-Surely someone who possessed a practical superpower have casted a spell on him. He was more than infatuated or head over heels--he felt like his heart has blossomed into a flower that now only grew in the sunlight that you provided in the darkness of his pathetic existence: The sunshine that he needed to protect and comfort whenever it was out

-Needless to say, he needed his angel

-While his behavior towards you seemed obsessive at points, with the point emphasized by your classmates raised suspension of the red flags that he have shown, you knew that he wasn’t a bad person--Nagito was a precious, misguided soul that needed to be pulled into the right, sunlight direction that you had the capacity to show him. After all, no doubt that he would be all ears for the Ultimate hope!

-Hajime and Chiaki knew this fact and trusted you to show him that his beliefs and values were in the right side of his heart, but his actions needed some guidance. Slowly, Nagito becomes more calmer and easier to talk to others with your help. He was still clinging onto his source of comfort, someone that made him feel like he was worth something--you

-But that is what couples do, is it not? Love each other? You had an admiration of Nagito himself and your favorite aspect about the white haired male was his fixation to bring out hope in any shape or form. You taught him that he cannot purposely inflict despair just to see hope rise in the end. He has slowly, but surely, made progress towards his eccentric actions because of your aid

-Your classmates have taken a liken towards you, seeing you as his savior. You expected no gratitude in return, but rather, in the form of seeing that Nagito was not the person they thought he was. He was no evil psychopath or monster that needed to be brushed off--he needed help. A traumatized, broken soul that hid underneath a facade of cheerfulness and patience, waiting for hope to arise from the despairful sight of the problems that now came his way naturally. Sometimes due to his luck, sometimes just a little message that the world was telling him

-With your help, you and Nagito makes one hell of a power couple, balancing out the lovey-doveyness that both of you display. Nagito isn’t one to be affectionate at the beginning of the new relationship, believing that someone as divine as yourself shouldn’t even be looked at by his worthless eyes. But as he’s eased into the relationship, his attitude does a whole one-eighty and starts to display PDA with you (if you are comfortable with it)

-You reassure him a lot and with the enormous span of time, he starts to gain respect and dignity for himself. You make him feel worthy and with every little milestone and step in the relationship, he starts to see himself just as worthy as a real ultimate and that is something he will never take for granted. With a smile, he vows to show you just how much he adores and loves you

-It’s obvious he pays attention to your likes and interests, proving that he sees the person behind the “Ultimate Hope” talent. He’s always open for whatever you want to do, always asking your opinion first, your thoughts and ideas, and supporting you with whatever you try to do. He’s supportive, loving, and compassionate. Seeing you so passionate about something brings a smile to his face and he makes a mental note to add it towards the bank of joyous memories and hobbies you have

-Overall, the relationship blossoms into such a beauty and it can definitely give you a cavity if you stare at it for too long. Nagito is a literal sweetie towards his goddess and will continue to do everything--and anything--to make sure he keeps that hope alive and bring a smile to his beloved angel of hope. With time, he’ll see that he’s just as worthy as love as he executes towards his lover. He will never admit it so soon, but he adores it

-There may be times he will push his hope and unintentionally overstep his boundaries with his curiosity and hope obsession. Albeit, with time, he would only do this so rarely, and even though his priority is her safety, he would still want to see her overcome despair. The courage and determination she posses to bring out the hope that is inside of her--he finds it so amazing. However, he would understand, with her help, that he cannot do this purposely, and would eventually stop and carry out his intentions in the best way he can. While defeating adversity makes someone stronger, purposely causing despair is wrong, and Nagito would understand it. He apologizes if he ever did anything to hurt her, and is usually extremely supportive and compassionate.

-His heart is in a good place, and she knows this. They would honestly be a great couple, and some people may see it as toxic. While it can provoke red flags, their love for each other is something that cannot be determined by someone else. They both hold an immense amount of respect and trust for each other. Nagito would be a great boyfriend and would do nothing to intentionally hurt her. She was his hope, his love

-Nothing would ever change that

#nagito x reader #nagito komaeda #nagito komeada kin #nagito headcanons #nagito oneshots #nagito x you #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa oneshot #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa headcanons

280 notes · View notes

alphabravocharliedelta · 3 years

Text

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader VIII

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Chapter VIII

Word Count: 6200+

[Chapter VII] [Chapter IX]

Summary: After somehow reconciling with Adler, Bell and the team are left to continue their pursuit of bringing down the undercover spy ring, but it proves to be more of a challenge as Bell struggles to move on from their Perseus-affiliated past.

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, mention of drugs, torture

Notes: As mentioned, huge time skip! I also apologize in advance for writing this but at the same time... Yeah, have fun. Thanks for making it this far though!

[Y/N] “Bell” [L/N]

January, 1984

CIA Safehouse, West Berlin

"We’re going to be a bit busy this month, Bell. Are you sure you can handle the safehouse alone?”

You roll your eyes at Adler’s worries. “It’s just one month. Nothing to worry about if you guys do your jobs, right?”

It didn't settle his anxiousness. Adler's been rather nitpicky leading up to this day, making sure nothing was out of place, and that everything was accounted for. Now, he was talking to you as if it was your first time staying home alone.

“The phone is right there." He points to the landline on the table. "Sims will be in charge of communications between us, so give him a call if anything happens. We'll try to update you on what's going on with our end, but no guarantees.”

“Fine." You close the fridge, unscrewing the cap to the water bottle you just took out. "I still don’t get as to why I can’t go along, but have fun I guess.”

“You’re not going anywhere with that leg of yours.”

“It’s healed already!”

The entire team shuffles out the door, and you could hear their vehicles start up. Adler lingers behind at the doorway, watching you gulp down some water. You eyed him curiously, before tossing the plastic away. “Don’t you have to go?”

Adler adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder and straightens up slightly. “I was thinking… When we come back, I can take you somewhere."

A smile tugs at your lips. “Is that your way of apologizing for not bringing me to D.C.?”

“You can say that.”

“Is that a date then?”

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

“God, get a fucking room!” you hear Woods howl from outside.

Adler tilts his head slightly over his shoulder, slight annoyance written on his face, before resuming. "There's a couple CIA associates that's going to visit the safehouse a few days. You're technically not supposed to be here, so try to stay out of their way."

"If they stay out of mine."

He gives you a final lookover, before parting off and getting into the driver's seat of his car.

You watched as he pulled away from the driveway, waving farewell to your teammates before closing the door. Now, it was just you and the safehouse in West Berlin.

Adler, along with the rest of the team, were called back into the Pentagon to go over the upcoming operation consisting of the prison transport. You couldn't exactly tag along since, of course, since you're technically dead. Adler said he would pull a few strings to birth you a real identity and all (like he'd done before) but so far nothing led up to him fulfilling that promise… yet.

Not all of them were going to Washington though, a couple being relieved of their duties for a short vacation. Mason didn’t give you much details when he left the first week of December, confidentiality and privacy a part of it, but you knew that you, in the end, were going nowhere. You also heard that Hudson took a small leave to spend time with his family (you didn’t even know he had one).

It didn't help that you also sustained several injuries from a mission one month ago, where NATO decided to attack a Soviet missile convoy out of spite for what they did to their training facility in November. To put it short, you took a good tumble down the snowy cliffside while providing overwatch for the team, and gained a small concussion and a fracture in your leg. It wasn't as bad as it seemed, but it was enough to make you limp a couple weeks.

You weren't supposed to be there, but you managed to convince Hudson to slip you into the strike team. Needless to say, Adler had ripped you a new one post-mission upon finding you lying on the ground underneath a pile of snow.

"How the hell did you fall off?"

"Someone snuck up on me. Don't worry though, I took him with me. Now are you going to help me up?"

The lecture that followed was a long one, but obligatory. It was his way of caring, you suppose. What better way to spend the holidays than to walk around with crutches while waiting for a tiny crack in your bone to heal?

Not much was done for Christmas, but it did have its highlights. You did wake up to a brand new black bomber jacket sitting on your desk that morning, and had a gut feeling who it came from. The rest of the team that stayed behind assembled together a small barbecue dinner, Sims calling the shots. He was a pretty good cook, you had to admit (much to Woods’ opposition). It was a casual day consisting of beer and food.

Now you have a whole month to yourself.

Sighing, already bored, you span around on the swivel chair you sat on. You already did your paperwork ahead of time, and even made sure everyone else’s was well sorted and organized. If someone had given you a heads-up that you were going to be stuck here, you would have put it off.

Pulling yourself back to the table, you plopped a notepad in front of you, pencil in hand. A good amount of pages were filled out, and you estimated almost 2/3rds of it were left. The pages consisted of a multitude of things, such as notes, drawings, or translations. There were a couple of times where you would try to sketch out the dreams you had while sleeping on the job. While they weren’t great, both in context and in technical skill, you were proud of it… kinda.

The notepad was freely accessible, and Woods would sometimes write little comments about the drawings in the corners of the page. Or Lazar who would try to draw the same thing. And it just so happened that you found a note that said “Bell has a crush” in Woods’ handwriting, so you immediately ripped it out and threw it into the incineration pile.

After taking the time to eat Woods' snacks to spite him, especially that last bit of Hershey's, you powered on your Walkman, shoving in MIX 2 and settled yourself in front of the arcade machine.

When you were hungry you would check the fridge, and everytime you expected some kind of new dish to appear. But instead there were just a few bottles of German beer, some leftovers, and a stack of TV dinners that looked like it had been sitting there for a while.

0000

Over the course of two weeks, you explored every bit of the place, every nook and cranny, and read every piece of paper you could find. There were newspaper clippings of the Kennedy assasination, old mission details and briefings, as well as some unprocessed polaroids. The supply area was especially interesting, a bunch of locomotive parts lying around.

The time did come where two particular individual people had come to visit. It was dead early in the morning when they came in, and you, who couldn't get any sleep that night, almost shot them when they entered. After de-escalating the situation, they were just as surprised as you were, but introduced themselves as Carson and Ben, the two CIA agents Adler mentioned beforehand.

Coming up with a bullshit lie, they seemed to believe you, and left you alone. If you didn’t bother them, they wouldn’t bother you.

It felt a bit awkward working around strangers, as you couldn't estimate their skills and predict their next thought. Being the safehouse members made you comfortable, so to be paired up with two random CIA agents was difficult to adapt to. But, it wasn't without reason, as the CIA eventually expanded their counteractive measures against Perseus.

The majority of the time, they were too busy putting stuff up on the evidence board, as Adler said they would. You had yet to take a peek, not wanting to disturb their work and instead would check the data terminal near the red room constantly, waiting for emails notifying you about what was happening back in the states.

One past email caught your eye, seeing how your nickname was the subject line. It dated to about late last year.

>>from R. Adler, to E. Black: Re: Bell

》》I appreciate your concern over Bell, Black. But, after some consideration, and do take this kindly, but I believe it is within everyone's best interests for you to stop inquiring about them. They're fully capable of handling themselves and have proved to be able to make conscious decisions. Any further messages regarding Bell will be ignored. There are more important things to concentrate on.

Reading Adler's defense against Black made you smile unwillingly. His words in text sounded polite, yet you could imagine his bitterness as he typed it out. The simple fact that Black would ask about you was a bit daunting. He didn't as much as show any concern for you in the past, and you never even got to see his face. You never really did take a liking to Black, and after what Nikitin told you, it felt like the only people to be trusted were just the safehouse members.

Leaning back in the chair, you let it turn on its own as you gazed up at the roof, wondering how everyone was fairing. They could handle themselves without you, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt and lonely without them.

It’s just one month.

Two more weeks to go.

0000

The day finally came where the long awaited phone call arrived.

You just came back from the practice range when one of the agents walked over to you, with one of the safehouse phones in hand. “You're Bell, right? They’re asking for you.”

Setting down Lazar's modified sniper rifle back in its respectful padded box, you took the brick-like phone from Carson. “Bell.”

“Damn, you didn't even tell them your name?” Sims’ jaded voice came from the other side.

You grin hearing his voice. It felt like ages hearing him speak. "Well, thanks to you, now they know."

“You're welcome. I saved you the work. How’s it over there?”

“Uh, not much. Adler’s acquaintances are finalizing the evidence board, so it should be ready when you guys return,” you inform. “How’d the missions go?”

Sims gives out a drained laugh. “Fucking tiring, I’ll tell you that. They had us jumping from state to state." You could hear some muffled conversation in the background, and you could only assume that he covered the receiver. "Sorry, Bell. Some hardass wants me to take a look at something. Can't talk for long, but…"

He proceeded to give you a quick rundown on what happened the past month, talking mainly about the prison transport conspiracy. Sims wouldn't tell you what happened with the person Stitch was interested in, but he informed you that they were currently in the middle of interrogating a few individuals, trying to get information about Perseus’ next move. You didn’t have anything else to offer, sadly, and wished them luck.

"Also, just passing a message from Hudson. He wants you to look over the evidence board as a precaution."

"Yeah, got it. Anything else?" you ask, eyeing an impatient CIA agent who also wanted to make a call.

“Adler should be returning tomorrow.”

You fought off a grin. “Sounds good.”

“...You’re not going to ask about Adler?” Sims infers, a bit taken aback.

"...Why would I?"

"Just thought you would want to check up on your boy—"

You hang up, pleased with yourself. Sims was certainly going to hold it against you, but for the time being, it was a small win.

At this point it was no secret that there was something going on between you and Adler, and whether it was romantic or not was up for their consideration. You wondered how the idea even got around, and guessed it was most likely Lazar who happened to let it slip on accident. Nothing really stayed hidden around the safehouse, and if Hudson already happened to hear about it, it didn't seem like he gave a second shit.

Passing the phone back, you look at Carson dead in the eye. "Staring is rude, you know," you reprimand, before heading over to the board.

Your eyes scanned the mass of evidence. A culmination of decades of work, intertwining and connecting with one another all leading to one crime organization: Perseus. There were some pieces you had never seen before, and you gave them a quick read. A playing card was pinned right in the middle of it all; the King of Spades, the title given to Kuzmin himself. There was also mention of Naga, whom you've come to vaguely remember. There were a few yellow stickies on there, personal notes and thoughts made by the two agents. One of them, though, you had to do a double take.

Woods BFF is MIA

"What?"

Did you read that right?

The first person that comes to mind was Mason, but you thought he returned home to be with his family. It must have been a mistake then, or it was referring to someone else. But, as far as you knew, there was no one else as close to Woods as Mason.

"Hey!" You rip the note off, storming over to Ben, who looked up in alarm upon seeing your disturbed expression. "What the hell does this mean?!"

He begins to get flustered, realizing that you knew way more than he anticipated. "I can't tell you that, sorr—"

"Bullshit! I fully deserve to know what's been going on. Is it Mason?"

"I..."

Above you, the lights flicker, but you didn't let that serve as a distraction. "Tell me."

"Like I said—"

There was a loud bang, causing everyone to flinch as a result. You could see Carson's hands slowly glide across the keyboard, keeping a keenful eye on the metal shutters. Ben, on the other hand, backed away from you, withdrawing back to his table.

Dead silence.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up in premonition, a small shiver running down your spine. Your stomach dropped— something was telling you to run.

"Uh… Ben?"

You saw one of the computers lose its signal, and then the next, the rest of them following suit. Carson sends out a string of swears, scrambling to try reboot the system.

That was when the lights turned off.

It was pitch dark. The fans that served as background noise ceased all movement, the electricity ceasing its currents.

"Carson!" Ben yells, and you feel him push past you. "Destroy the drives! Hurry!"

"Wait—"

But, before you could take another step, everything unfolded.

One of the doors was kicked open, gunfire erupting the second after. Diving behind the table nearby, you could hear the screens shattering, the fragments falling to the ground carelessly. The two agents cried out in pain for a split second, and then you never heard them again. A couple bullets went through the desk, narrowly missing you. The sirens went off, a red light beginning to flash overhead.

Someone was invading the warehouse.

What for though? To steal info? If that was the case, then you should have taken the time to memorize all of it if they were planning to purge everything.

Reaching out, you opened one of the desk drawers, feeling around. You felt something cool brush against your hand and didn't waste a breath taking it out, the object revealing itself to be a 1911. Checking the magazine, it was fully loaded and well kept.

Peeking around the corner, you see someone approaching your side of the garage. Although it was dark, you could make out minimal details of the uniform that they wore, and you freeze at the sight of it.

Shit.

You recognized that get up anywhere. Bland and lacking color, with tundra patterned pants and hooded jackets… It couldn't be.

How did they even find this place…?

The CIA mole.

Someone knew Adler and the rest of the team was going to be out. With their best members away, it would have been a perfect opportunity to attack. After all, what the hell was one lone agent supposed to do?

Jumping up from behind the table you aim for the person that neared your position but a figure from behind knocks the pistol out from your hand. It fell to the ground effortlessly, sliding a few feet away from you. About to make a dive for it, you ran forward, only for one of the invaders to bring the butt of their gun downwards to smack the back of your head. Your face slammed onto the ground, blood bursting from your nose. Something cold pressed against your temple as you tried to move,

“Wait,” a gruff voice ordered.

The lights turned back on, the backup generator revving itself into action. Black boots appeared in front of you, a few specks of blood splattered across the leather like glitter.

You were then heaved up by your arms forcibly, the gun now pointed at your left side. A gloved hand grabbed your face, and following up the arm you were greeting with quite the sight. He had a hood over his head, and a gas mask secured tightly around his face. Even if you couldn’t see his face clearly, the voice was unforgettable. You knew enough to identify him without fail.

“Ah,” you begin, giving a scornful leer. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?"

Vikhor “Stitch” Kuzmin was not amused in the slightest.

"—Or should I say ‘eye’?"

The pressure on your chin increased with such force that you thought he would dislocate it.

You could hear the rumble in his throat as he hummed to himself in thought while you glowered at him.

“So, you’re still alive?”

His appearance didn’t show much difference when comparing them to your memories. There wasn’t a lot to look at, but the most outstanding characteristic had to be the whites of his left eye with that ugly scar Adler left as a parting gift. Around his neck hung a large metal piece of the Perseus symbol, and accompanying it was a collection of dog tags, ripped off of the body of his victims. What a sadistic son of a bitch.

Stitch lets go of your face, making up his mind.

"I would leave you here, but I have other plans for you."

He waves you off, and his colleagues restrain your arms behind your back. Any attempts to free yourself were futile, and you were dragged off.

Fuck!

You should've been more prepared. That 1911 was in great condition as well, you should have just fired it the moment you aimed it. And as a result of your lack of decision making, two people were dead and you were now a hostage.

The last thing you see is Stitch stabbing a pink flyer to the evidence board with a knife.

Your thoughts raced back to the team back at the U.S.. What was going to happen to them? It was going to be a hell of a mess to return to, and the idea that there was now a mess to clean up without you there to explain it all is going to be a hell of an issue.

How was Adler going to react?

Eyes widening at the realization, you internally screamed. Stitch's goal wasn't you, as you were just a surplus of his objective to get close to Adler.

A bag is pulled over your head, and is tightened to a close around your neck. The cloth of it was poreus enough to let air in, but it felt suffocating.

With nothing to see or nowhere to run, you were tossed into the trunk of a humvee. It wasn’t long before it started up and drove away, departing away from the mess. You tried to make a mental note of the amount of turns that were taken, but eventually lost count.

After lying down in darkness for God knows how long, Stitch’s destination must have arrived, the main indicator being a swift blow to the back of your head to knock you out, the last thing you heard being the engines of an aircraft.

0000

"You seem a bit eager to return."

Adler takes the cigarette out of his mouth and places his hands back on the wheel. Zenya gave him a mocking side grin, waiting for a response.

"After what happened in Miami, I think some suburban scenery might be fair," was the response he came up with.

Naturally, he couldn't exactly tell her that he was excited to see you again after nearly a month. Adler wasn't granted to leisure to phone you, so Sims or someone else had to do it in his stead. He couldn't help but admit to himself that he had a sense of yearning to hold you again, and it was becoming a losing battle as he fended off his urges to give you a secret kiss on the forehead when no one else was around. The past weeks have been physically draining, and Adler just wanted to rest in your presence.

But, that would have been unprofessional of him. So the closest he would get to you was under the guise of emotional support. And if he just so happened to hold your cheek, hand, or bestow you one of his mini possessions (as a comfort item) in the name of "support", then it's permissible. That kiss was… an exception to the rule. And it should only happen once.

Fucking hormones. He was almost fifty years old and there was still room for those kinds of tenderhearted thoughts? You really were a piece of work.

"Is there someone waiting for you?" Zenya prods. "I heard Woods mention this 'Bell' person."

"Classified."

"C'mon Adler. This is the first time I've seen you like this."

"You'll meet them when we get there."

Zenya gives out a groan, before waving him off. "Still stiff as always. They must have a high tolerance of bullshit if they could handle you."

"You have no idea."

The safehouse comes into view. Nothing seemed unordinary, nor was there the smell of something burning. A part of him expected you to be waiting outside with crossed arms as you tapped your food impatiently, but remembered that he didn't exactly tell you he was returning today.

As for everyone else, they were still awaiting for their ticket home or the next set of orders. It was Adler's duty to return to the safehouse and prepare for the next op, having to brief others on the evidence board and compare it with what they had learned back in Florida.

In his pocket was the souvenir Woods managed to nick for you during the clean up sweep— a keychain of a tiny jar filled with sand and microscopic shells with the embellishing of "Florida: The Sunshine State" engraved into the glass. He told Hudson it was going on the evidence board under the guise of it potentially being related to the prison escort.

It wasn't. Not by a long run.

The car comes to a full stop, and Adler takes the keys out. But, from the moment he planted a foot onto the dirt, he knew something was wrong.

Your motorcycle was parked in its usual spot, and there weren't any unidentifiable vehicles around either. He couldn’t see it, but something inside of him screamed danger.

“Nice bike,” Zenya compliments with a whistle. She rushes over in excitement, bending down to survey the components. “Damn, I’m jealous. Who's this belong to?”

“Bell’s.”

“Is that who’s waiting for you? I like them already.” The small talk was pardoned with Adler’s dour expression as he sent a quick look towards the roof, and Zenya could sense his mood shift. "What's up?"

A steady hum coming from the safehouse told him that the generator was functioning. He expected music to be blasting from the radios but it was dead silent on your end.

"Stay sharp, something off."

Adler's worries continued to increase with each passing step. Zenya followed closely behind, shutting the door of the car with a loud thud. They both stopped in front of the shutters, Adler knocking on it a couple of times to let you know of his presence.

You did inform Sims, who in turn told him, that the CIA agents settled in smoothly. Though, he was sure you wouldn't have bothered them in the slightest, seeing how you're a bit reserved upon meeting new people. But on the chance something did happen…?

After a minute passed, no one came to raise the door.

"...Shit."

Pulling out his secondary, Adler gestures to Zenya to go around the right while he covered left. With his back stuck closely to the walls for cover, he took the extra care to make his footsteps light to avoid alerting any suspects inside.

Gazing down, there were imprints on the dirt. The indents were deep and easy to make out. The owners were carrying something large, and they faced outward, trailing away from the building. There were tire tracks as well, none that he recognized.

After affirming that there was no other suspicious activity around the perimeter, he made his way to the back, where the door handle was hanging off of it.

No gunfire was met upon entry. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of two men who were splayed across their work desk, dead and riddled with holes. The paper underneath them was stained with their own blood. Flipping them over, their eyes were open, frozen in horror, and skin cold to the touch.

"Bell?" Adler called out.

No response.

He repeated your name again, trying to hide his nerves. "Stop fucking around, Bell!"

Did you kill them?

Adler perished that thought away the moment it came into existence. No, you didn't do that anymore. You may be brash, but you weren't that mentally unstable.

He waited to hear you respond back, but to no avail. Adler paced around anxiously, looking for any clues. There were only two bodies, yet there were three of you. A lone 1911 laid lonely on the floor.

Zenya returns in the form of a jog. "There's no one in the house. No signs of struggle either."

"What the fuck happened then?"

An audible crunch came from below. Looking down, Adler removed his foot from the object he stepped on, a few pieces sticking to his soles.

It was a Walkman.

The one he gave you.

Before he could even crouch to investigate, a bright pink caught his eye. Adler marched forward to the evidence board. A knife was stabbed into it, holding up a pink flyer that advertised the grand re-opening of the mall in Pines, New Jersey.

TIME WE END THIS

Clenching his teeth, fury began to overwhelm Adler, knowing full damn well who caused the mess. The entire evidence board was all about him, and it just so happened that he came to visit on the day Adler was gone.

"Stitch."

The name was cased in such hostility and loathing that it nearly made Zenya hesitate to get closer. To see Adler in such a state was seldom, and she couldn’t even recall a moment where he acted in such a way before. His knuckles were turning pure white, nails digging into his palms.

What a coincidence that this menace had paid him a visit after becoming the current spotlight within the past few months— It was time to return the favor.

“He’s trying to bait you, Adler,” Zenya advised cautiously behind him.

“No shit.” He rips the knife out, pocketing it. She was right, but nothing was going to stop him from going. With you gone, it only added to the terror he was about to unleash. “See if the lines are still working."

Adler walked over to the smashed Walkman, dusting away the fragments. Scavenging out the tape, it was still intact, MIX 2 was written in his own handwriting. Nearby was a few drops of blood. It couldn’t have belonged to the bodies, since it was a good distance away.

Bell.

His fingers pressed against the cassette, thoughts beginning to go awry. He couldn’t bring himself to rummage through the mess or check the rooms— Adler already knew what had occurred.

Stay calm.

He grits his teeth, slipping the tape into his pockets before he crushes it in his hand.

Everything may have been set up just to entrap him, but if your life was at stake, it was just a risk he had to take. He owed it to you. As much as he wanted to walk right in, the last thing Adler wanted to do was make a decision that could cost your life.

What more did they want with you?

He should have brought you along.

When it all comes down to it, these were the cards that Perseus decided to play, and Adler could only hope you knew when to pick your battles. He wouldn't hold it against you if you spilled the beans. If you were safe and alive, that was all that mattered, and anything that resulted from information being leaked could be dealt with. He'll make sure of it.

But he knew better. If there's one thing about you he came to recognize, it was that you weren't going down without a fight.

Don't do anything stupid, [Y/N].

The sensation of freezing liquid was what shocked you awake. You had to hold your breath within that moment as whoever was there was pouring a torrent of water down on you.

With a deep gasp of air as the waterfall turned into a small stream, you found yourself in an unfamiliar place. There were a few shelves, stocked with boxes of miscellaneous items. In the corner were some large blue barrels wired with bombs, the red light blinking every five seconds. "N6" was spray painted on it.

While you were bound to a chair, Stitch positioned himself in front of you, gesturing for his comrade to lay off. There was a utility cart next to him, various tools and instruments laid down on each shelf. A repugnant feeling settled in at the sight of it, and you already knew what was about to come.

“Vikhor,” you greet sarcastically, “Your interpretation of a 'welcome back' party isn't what I had in mind."

There was a sliver of panic that started to bud within the pits of your stomach, but you buried it down. Any indication of weakness was something Stitch was looking for, and you refused to give it to him.

“What did you tell them?”

When you didn't respond, you were gifted a hard punch to your jaw. Still, you were undeterred, not even flinching. It was the type of shit you dealt with before, and you lived, so you'll do it again and again, annoying your captors as a consequence of their actions. They couldn’t do shit to you— you were too valuable. As Perseus had the bounty, you had information they wanted.

"Ahh, come on. Adler did much better than that," you taunt.

"I'll ask again. What do they know?"

You glared at Stitch as he crouched to look at his work. There were bits of your blood on him, and you noticed his knuckles were beginning to get raw. You could feel your already beginning to swell from that one hit you took, blood running down your forehead.

"Perseus had high hopes for you," Stitch discloses, and remains of jealousy barely detectable. "Who knew one of his most loyal subjects would turn out to be a disappointment like you?"

You laugh. "I bet…" you began, speaking in Russian. "Kravchenko thought the same of you, before sending you to the gulag."

Furious, he stood back up and grabbed the back of your head, yanking it back. The lightbulb above you swayed in a circular motion as it blinded you. You could see double images and halos (did he inject you with something while you were out?). "I should cut off that tongue of yours."

Don't trust Adler.

"J-Just like old times, huh? If it weren't for the general, we would have been at each other's throats constantly," you remark. “I wonder if he finally decided to croak. Would you guys invite me to his memorial service?”

“You ought to watch your words.”

Sense of time was lost as Stitch continued to badger you with violence and questions, but had no success in loosening up your lips. Your mind felt clouded, and the voices were already returning whispering unwanted messages and orders. You were bound to a metallic chair at your wrists and ankles, the arm rest already stained crimson, and you couldn't even feel your legs. Stitch had already broken your left arm and gave you a collection of slashes and punches just trying to get information out of you.

Even if you were, at one point, a higher position than Stitch, there was always that deadly aura that radiated off of his person that would make you stiffen at first glance. And now that he has a complete advantage, you refused to even buckle despite the punishment you were put under. Sarcasm was a great way to cloud it, but with him, it was like prodding a bear with a stick.

Know where your loyalties lie.

“Shut up,” you hissed under your breath, sick and tired of hearing manipulative voices.

Stitch grinds his teeth at your comment, before he notices a silver glint near your collarbone. Curiously, he pulls it out from your shirt.

The dog tags.

"Disgusting," he verbally recoils, "Adler made you his."

You held your tongue.

"...Good thing that he's coming here to the mall, eh? And after I'm done with you, he'll come to discover your body." Stitch lets the tags slip away from his hand, and it returns to hanging around your neck without a care in the world. Why he didn’t add it to his collection, you didn’t know. Stitch walked over to the silver table, picking up a well polished combat knife. Brandishing it, he took a moment to let its beauty sink in, looking at both sides. "I wonder what kind of face Adler will make when he sees his precious pet broken to pieces."

“Vikhor.” He was met with a dark expression. "If even one of your fingers even touches him, I will fucking kill you."

"After all these years, you're still an annoying little brat."

Your threat didn't seem to faze him.

"Is that how you talk to your superior?" you sneer, recalling the meeting years ago. It felt enthralling to act like this, taunting the man who held your life in his hands. Seeing Stitch's muscles tense at each word, hands balled into fists, you knew he could only withstand so much backlash before finally snapping.

It was a idiotic thing to do, but the fear had to be cloaked. Keeping a cool head would be the correct approach in this scenario, but teasing Stitch was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. This was the same shit you did with Adler years ago, and you were going to do it again, unintentionally or not.

“I'll never understand why the general trusted you, out of all people, to deal with him,” his deep voice projects, maintaining eye contact with you. He Tosses the blade into his opposite hand. “Look what happened. I'm the one that has to clean up your mess."

“It fits your name though— Stitch. Fixing up everything...” You give him a derisive smirk. “Just get it over with, Vikhor. Aren't you getting bored of beating a dead horse?"

“As a matter of fact... I am.”

Grabbing your face, he points the knife directly at your left eye. The edge glistened under the light, highlighting the little grooves and bits of rust in the metal. Your eyes follow it, going to the handle where Stitch gripped it tightly, before trailing up to his face, where the look of bloodlust radiated off of him. You could tell he was just waiting to put the knife to use.

“An eye for an eye, was it?”

He takes the opportunity to let the tip of the knife dig into your skin just right above your eyebrow. Stitch proceeds to slowly drag it downward, and you grip the ends of the armrest and curl your toes as you feel your own flesh being cut open. You suck in some air, preventing yourself from whimpering.

You may have been trained and conditioned to resist all forms of interrogation, but this was just testing your life endurance at this point, your sanity just on the urge of breaking. How long have you been here?

His hand prevented you from flinching away. It was excruciating, and you had to hold your breath to prevent a blood curdling scream from coming out. You could only go down the dictionary of English and Russian swears in your mind as white seared.

Stitch stops, the blade mere millimeters from entering the eye socket. His eyes surveyed you carefully, just waiting for any reaction that would grant him some kind of sadistic satisfaction.

"G...Getting sympathetic are we?" you strain.

The chill of the metal was already lost as warm blood streaked down your face. Your index finger twitches as you feel the blade graze against your eyelid. What the fuck is he waiting for?

"To think we used to work with you," he says, voice quaking with anger. His grip around the handle tightens. His control and handling of the knife was impressive, to say the least, but his inability to make you break was a whole ordeal on its own. "Such a shame to have things turn out this way."

You drew back your lips before spitting at Stitch. "Хуй тебе́."

It landed right on his mask. The brute didn't even flinch or budge, but his eyebrows were deeply furrowed, a vein popping out on his forehead. To see that you got him to such heights of vexation was an accomplishment. Using him as a doormat to let loose verbal insults and taking him lightly was no easy feat, especially with your own life on the line.

Sorry, Russ. I guess I am damaged goods.

In the last few seconds, you see the muscles in Stitch's arm tense, the hues becoming visible just as he delivers your comeuppance in an instantaneous swipe.

#bet you didn't SEE that coming #lmao so anyways ill see myself out #call of duty x reader #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #bo:cw #adler x reader #cod black ops cold war #black ops cold war #call of duty #fanfic #bell #russell adler #abcd briefing #having one eye in call of duty is a fashion statement now #but hey bell and stitch are twinsies now awww #text #call of duty imagine

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king-maven-calore · 3 years

Note

prompt #25 “your hair is really soft” for marecal please 😙

I did this and "10 cal and mare please. idc who says it lol"👀 in a single drabble, I hope you guys don't mind. It's a modern AU I guess

Cal had been volunteering at the Scarlet Guard summer camp for two seasons now, this would be his third. The first time he’d been here as moral support for Ptolemus, who’d been sent here for his community service sentence. Ptolemus had signed up again for the following summers for Wren, a med student in charge of the infirmary, and Cal kept signing up because he found out he loved working with children.

He always had a great time helping the kids, training them in archery and other sports, patting their backs when they got homesick, leading them on walks through the woods belting out marching songs, sitting with them at lunch, and making good use of his excellent puns arsenal. The kids had a blast, and he did too.

In this part of the Greatwoods Region, he found paradise. His dad disapproved and Maven did not understand but was he too happy to mind.

It would have been a shame if he’d proven them right on his third year here when he almost died out of sheer stupidity. But could he be blamed? Could he be blamed when the five new counselors got down from one of the early buses and one of them looked like that?

Among the newbies, there was a petite girl with golden skin that seemed to sparkle under the early morning sun. She jumped down from the bus and a cloud of dirt exploded around her already dirty Vans, her toned legs were generously exposed under her jean shorts, and the lines of her abdomen peeking out from under the camp’s counselor reglementary red polo shirt as she stretched and arched her back to tie her dyed brown and purple hair in a bun, scowling at her surroundings with something akin to distrust. She was the loveliest girl he’d ever seen in such a violent way... was it really his fault he didn’t pay attention to the lightbulbs he’d been changing at the side of the dining hall, perched atop a rickety ladder 10 feet above the ground? It wasn’t. Electricity didn’t give a shit about whose fault was it though when he blindly stuck his hand in the exposed wires next to the light socket.

A white explosion, sparkles, and a sensation of being pulled away at 1000 miles per hour.

Next thing he knew, he was on his back and there was a warm mouth against his. Warm, soft, insistent— on breathing air into him. And good god, this person smelled like heaven; jasmine and rain. Much to his dismay, the scent and the mouth left him and his chest started getting crushed in rhythmic, urgent motions.

Cal gulped air and shot upright. He was surrounded by 20 consternated young faces and one barely inches away from his face. Beautiful, wide brown eyes, thick long eyelashes that brushed against high cheekbones when the girl who’d just saved his life blinked twice.

“Dude.” Kneeling next to him, the girl with the purple hair knitted her brow. “What the fuck?”

And Cal couldn’t help but smile at her. A reflex. She was even prettier up close.

“I think we should check for brain damage,” a blond with bottle green eyes muttered.

Oh, but his brain was fine. It was his heart he should get checked, for he’d just been struck by Cupid’s arrow.

And electricity, of course. The smell of burnt hair, clothes, and flesh reminded him.

The result of that encounter turned out to be quite positive. Yes, he got a second-degree burn on his right hand and a dislocated shoulder from the fall but he refused to be sent home, it had been worth it to get to meet Mare Barrow.

She was 18, from Albanus, only here for the money, best friends with the blondie jokester and— as he learned after a dubiously moral social media stalking session —single and interested in men.

The only thing he regretted from that “meet cute” was that he’d been mostly unconscious (technically dead) for 99% of the time her lips were on his.

He lived for the moments they crossed paths during their daily activities around the camp. His heart grew in size about five times when she teased him and lightly punched his stomach or ruffled his hair.

Ptolemus cocked a brow but kept his mouth thankfully shut when Cal decided to start sitting on the counselor’s table during dinner instead of with the kids, as he had grown accustomed to.

It was miserable and extraordinary how he even found the way she ate her food endearing. More often than not, miserable because he couldn’t A: get her to like him, for she was too laser-focused on doing her job efficiently and getting the hell out of the camp; B: touch her as casually as she did with him because his hand was bandaged, and C: relationships between counselors were strictly forbidden.

By the time his hand was healthy enough to be of any use, three weeks had passed and he was head over heels, neck-deep (to not use other body parts for reference), stupidly in love with the sarcastic girl who had put her own breath into his lungs, challenged him every time they got the chance and looked at him like she wanted to sink her hand into his ribcage to take a bite out of his heart. Needless to say, he wanted to touch her. Badly. Ok, maybe do a bit more than 'touch', but you get the idea.

His excuse was handed on a silver platter by one of his favorite campers, Luther Carver. The kid who was usually off-standish and grim— just misunderstood, in Cal’s opinion – had signed up for the braiding lessons that Mare was unhappily in charge of.

On his way back from the lake, his crew of kids trailing behind him, he passed along the group of girls and Luther taking their lesson, sitting in a circle on the grass between the pine trees. An idyllic image of children focused on their task, and Mare’s poorly concealed discomfort as she sat on a log bench and supervised the activities, biting the inside of her cheek, elbows on her knees. It should be illegal to be that beautiful without meaning to.

“Hi, Cal!” Luther chirped as a girl behind him stared with furious determination at her handiwork. “How does my hair look?”

Cal signaled for his group to keep walking back to the camp and approached the small clearing.

“It looks amazing, buddy!” Cal gave him a thumb up. To be honest, his braid of long black hair was slightly (very) crooked to the left, and Mare noticed. She hid her laugh behind cough and a fist. “It is very original.”

Luther beamed and turned slightly to wink in his fellow camper’s direction. The girl blushed and giggled and Cal wanted nothing more than to give them a bear hug and tell them how smart and kind they were. Kids were the best thing in this world. Especially when they said things like...

“Mare’s hair is still the same,” Luther sighed wearily. “Someone should do something about it.”

All the girls hummed and nodded in agreement and Mare closed her eyes and Cal could read her thoughts as she counted to ten.

“Fine, you guys win.” Ah, so her untouched hair had been a recurring topic. “Cal can braid my hair!” she said with fake excitement that went over the kids’ heads, thankfully. “If he knows how to, that is.” Her brown eyes locked with his in camaraderie, fully expecting him to turn down the task with some excuse to appease their audience.

“Ok,” he shrugged happily as he walked over to her and her smug face dissolved into a confused frown and the kids cheered.

He made a shooing motion with his hand and she moved to sit on the grass awkwardly while he took her place on the log bench, sitting with his feet placed on either side of her body.

“What the hell are you doing?” she whispered through gritted teeth so only he could hear her, craning her neck up to glare at him, when he started cracking his knuckles for dramatic effect.

Were this any other context, he would savor the warmth her body radiated to the inside of his legs. Not this context. Absolutely not.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he smirked down at her. “Now stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

With one last suspicious look, she heaved a breath and stared ahead as he tugged the scrunchie off her hair and let the brown and purple waves spill down her back.

Cal had no fucking clue how to do braid but how hard could it be? It was like a knot with hair. Right? He looked at what the girls sitting on the grass were doing. Ok, that seemed doable. He combed his long fingers through Mare’s hair to loosen any knots and... Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He successfully hid a shudder while Mare uninterestedly hugged her knees to her chest.

He was choking on his own breath. Her hair was so soft and the scent of it was so amazing it pierced his fingertips, reached his bloodstream, and shot to his head. Jasmine and rain like that first day. Cal stilled for a moment and blinked forcefully to regain some semblance of rational thought.

“What is it?” Mare muttered curtly. Was it his imagination or did it sound more like a gasp than scolding?

“Nothing,” he said and started imitating the nearest girl’s technique. No point in lying, he bent down to whisper in her ear. “Your hair is really soft.” It wasn’t meant to come out so raspy and needy, and still...

Mare turned to the side and they were face to face. She seemed offended, but not really, with a confused glare darkening her burning gaze, a lovely red tint spreading all over her cheeks and neck, slightly parted plush lips.

She looked on the verge of kissing him or punching him. Cal prayed and ached it was the former because she licked her lips, leaving a glossy sheen and he wanted nothing more than to...

“OHHH Mare and Cal sitting in a tree!” A girl squealed, pointing at them from across the clearing and suddenly 10 pairs of devilish eyes were on them and chanting. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

They jumped away from each other so fast one might think they had been electrocuted again as they rushed to explain that “No, they were NOT doing anything of the sort!”

#marecal #I had so much fun with this one #My fics #ask #anon #red queen #RQ fanfic #forgive the grammar #enjoy the vibes

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mustyrosewater · 3 years

Text

their responses to the words “make me.”

as i’m sure we all know, the two words “make me.” are some of the most used in a brat’s vocabulary. greatly inspired by my good friend @the-door-matt (who is a self proclaimed brat.) i have decided to write how pedro’s characters respond to said sentence. good luck, and god bless the brats.

NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

javier pena :

baby, are-

are you sure you don’t have a death wish? surely you do if you give a man like javier pena any from of attitude.

all day, you’d been trying to get under your co workers skin, simple things such as taking just a little bit of extra time getting your coffee, making you late. wearing those bell bottom jeans you know hugged your ass just the right way, anything you could do to get on javier pena’s nerves, you did.

you don’t even remember what he asked you for, maybe he’d asked you to hand him a pen, or even pass him a file that was sitting beside you; all that you remember, is leaning forward slightly from where you were sitting on the desk and tilting your head before saying those cursed to words.

“make me, pena.”

admittedly, you should have known better, but for some strange reason, you’d just felt the need to push one his buttons, at least you’d been wise enough to do this when it was after hours, only the two of you left in his office to sort through reports and such.

you should have known that from the way he turned deathly still and looked up at you slowly, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. if look’s could kill, you’d most definitely be dead. you could only watch as he slowly took the cigarette from his lips and squashed it in the ceramic ashtray on his desk.

next thing you know, javier has gotten up from his desk and is now standing in front of you, a hand now wrapped gingerly around your lower throat, not applying any pressure, simply sitting his hand there and keeping you still.

“is that how it’s going to be? you’ve been trying to get under my skin all day missy.”

as he speaks, his head lowers from around your throat to begin ghosting along your covered skin, barley applying enough pressure to feel his touch, just enough to know that its there.

“this is what you want? is that why you’ve been trying to push my buttons all day hm?”

legend has it you had trouble walking the next day, bruises on your hips and thighs certainly saw to that. needless to say, javi didn’t get attitude from you except on some very special occasions.

francisco “catfish” morales :

you took his hat, babe, why did you take his hat?!

he’d been searching for it since he woke up, after he’d had a shower, only to find that his hat wasn’t waiting for him on the bedside table as it always was. there was also the matter of the fact that you were nowhere to be found.

he came down the stairs slowly, only now hearing movement in the kitchen. when he finally poked his head around the corner only to find you in the kitchen, leaning on the counter and waiting for toast to pop did he spot his cap sat snugly on top of your head, turned backwards allowing him to see the logo of the oil company.

you must have heard him, because you turned and offered him a big smile, though he could read the mischief clear on your face.

“morning.” you practically sang as he approached, wrapping your arms around his waist and standing on your toes to kiss the end of his nose. his hands sat snugly on your hips as he stared down at you like you would stare at a puppy that had been caught chewing on its owners shoe.

before he could reach up to take his hat back, you broke away from his hold once you’d heard the toast pop.

wasting no time, frankie only shook his head. “give it back.” he knew you knew what he meant, but you only turned around, giving a mock clueless look.

“give what back, babe?”

“my hat, give it back.” he didn’t sound angry, not even annoyed; if anything, he sounded like he was enjoying this little game you’d started with him.

“make me, francisco.”

you quickly realized you’d fucked up when his eyes suddenly darkened, as he moved closer to you and had you pressed up against the counter in a manner of seconds. his breathing had suddenly grown heavy and he was practically grinding against you.

as you breathed out a few soft moans, shutting your eyes and wrapping your arms around his neck, you felt the cap being pulled off of your head, opening your eyes just in time to see him placing his cap back on his head.

your mouth hung open as he smiled down at you and turned around heading for the front door.

“don’t even think about it francisco.” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him back into the kitchen, hearing him laughing as he spun you around and pushed you back onto the counter, continuing his trail of kisses.

shane “dio” morissey :

oof, well, i can tell you that you fucked up.

dio is not somebody who likes to be given attitude in any shape or form, not getting his way, whether it be through manipulation or force, is an entirely foreign concept our resident goth boy.

literally, doesn’t even matter why you said it, or what it was about. all that matters is that the words “make me” are like flicking a switch in dio’s mind that suddenly has you pressed against the wall with his hands wrapped around your throat as well as dio practically seething the most pornographic sentences into your ear.

don’t expect to be experiencing any release though, dio is going to do whatever he wants, and that means that you won’t be cumming until you’re crying, not until you’ve learnt his lesson.

whether that means you spend hours with his head between your thighs or rather hours bent over the bed with him pounding into you relentlessly until you can’t take anymore, it’s all the same to dio.

he’s not going to let you cum until you are in tears baby cakes, not until you’re crying out that you can’t take any more and that you’re sorry, this is never going to happen again and that he needs to stop.

well, then he will, only long enough to gruffly let out “make me.” before resuming his torture on your body.

yeah, you won’t be walking straight for quite a few days after that, sorry not sorry.

oberyn martell :

it’s the giving an actual prince attitude for me-

no, for real, despite the fact that oberyn is a prince, we know that he doesn’t take it too close to heart when it comes to thinking he’s above certain things.

however, you? being a brat? haha yeah that shit’s not gonna fly. as soon as you say that sentence and give him that look, it’s over. oberyn doesn’t tolerate you being a brat unless he wants you to be a brat.

he will simply repeat his request, allowing you one more chance to be good for him, when you retaliate with another “make. me.” this time pausing between words, oberyn simply shrugs, he gave you a chance, can’t say he didn’t try.

he walks towards you and picks you up, dropping you down onto the bed, staring down at your as he unlaces the lather belt holding his tunic in place. he lets it fall off of his shoulders leaving him only in his loose orange pants as you stare up at him, narrowing your eyes and biting your lip.

he’s not stupid sis, he knows that this was what you wanted all along, seven god’s forbid he actually lets you get away with it though.

overstimulation and spanking is all that you’re going to get, all while he nonchalantly tells you “i gave you a chance to be good my little dove, if you want to be bad, see what you get.” before he lets another smack come down hard on your thigh.

much like our friend dio, oberyn isn’t going to stop until you’re on the brink of tears and apologizing profusely, just pleading, begging for him to let you come.

however, unlike dio, oberyn will cave in and let you because he’s lying if he says that look when your eyes roll back and your mouth hangs open turn him to putty in your hands.

din djarin :

ok look, he tried, he really did.

when you first replied to his request to pass him a tool with a mischevous “make me.” he only stopped for a second before resuming what he was working on.

“i’m serious.” he replied as nonchalantly as always, only causing a pout to form on your face.

“so am i.” you shrugged, moving the tool box out of his reach with your foot when he let out a sigh and reached for the tool himself.

“i’m not in the mood.” he grunted, standing up to tower over you, staring you down through the vizor of his helmet. you couldn’t even see his face, but knowing that under his helmet he must have been starting to get annoyed only brought a smirk onto your own.

the tool that was clasped tightly between your hands was the next object of his staring. he reached for it, only for you to place your hand behind your back, not once breaking eye contact with the bounty hunter.

though his helmet you could hear the pissed off huff he gave, right before he grabbed your other wrist and spun you around to push you down onto the crate you’d been previously sitting on. unable to move, you could only wait as he pried to tool out of your hand and suddenly let you go, only turning back to what he was working.

pouting, you turned around, expecting to see him continuing his work, instead, you watched him chuck the tool back into the tool box before he looked back at you, reaching forward to grip you by your shoulders and lead you into the room that two of you shared on the crest.

only checking once to make sure the kid was asleep, he shut the door behind him and shoved you down onto the bed, beginning to unbuckle his belt, only staring at you through his vizor.

he fucked you into the mattress that night, so hard that you had bruises on your hips when you woke up, walking out of the room only to find him working once again, missing the small chuckle that emitted from him as you limped past him.

maxwell lord :

sorry my love, maxwell lord IV doesn’t take orders from anybody, especially not you. the two of you had gotten into some petty argument, something about how you’d already responded to star labs saying he’d be attending their charity gala, and now here he was, claiming that he no longer wanted to attend purely based off of the fact that one of the sales rep’s had given him a dirty look as they were leaving.

you were stood in front of his desk, arms crossed and tapping your foot impatiently, staring at your boss as he propped up his feet and gave you that smirk that was all to familiar and all too infuriating.

without another word, you simply threw your hands up and grabbed your coat, turning around and walking towards the large mahogany doors you knew would take you out of his office.

“don’t walk away from me.” his voice rung out behind you, as well as the sound of him standing up from his chair.

you didn’t reply, only continued walking; just as your hand touched the door handle his voice rung out again, though much colder, much more harsh.

“don’t you take one more step out of this office.”

you whipped your head around to look at maxwell, your eyes suddenly wide with insult, who the hell was he to order you? well, technically he was your boss, but still.

you took a few steps towards him, your heel’s clicking on the marble floor before you stopped and stood in silence, letting your eyes linger on his face before finally speaking.

“make me.”

without even waiting for a reply you turned around and continued your retreat out of the office that you were sure cost more than your own house three times over.

but before you could leave, you felt hands on your shoulders as you were spun around harshly to meet the angry eyes of maxwell, his breathing was heavy and his perfectly gelled hair had moved slightly out of place, leaving a few strands sitting on his forehead.

“is that what i have to do to get you to fucking listen to me once in awhile hm?” as he spoke, he turned the two of you around and continued until you were pushes against his desk feeling the hard wooden table digging into the backs of your thighs.

all i’m gonna say is, expect to be bent over that desk and prepare to hide the bruises around your thighs from by the time our man is done with you.

you may have begun to order him around a lot more often after that occurence, who knows.

max phillips :

okay well, for one

why are you saying “make me” to your boss

especially when your boss is max phillips

it was, in all honestly, because you were having a bad day, technically your shift wasn’t starting for another ten minutes, you’d only just sat down at your desk and let out a sigh as you heard your boss’ office door opening as well as those infuriatingly well polished shoes appearing in your vision.

without even saying good morning or anything, max was already on your case about those reports that were meant to be on his desk by this afternoon.

not even waiting for a reply, he patted you on the shoulder and reminded you that you needed to start working.

without even thinking, as he was walking away, you blurted out a snide “make me.” it was meant to be quieter than it came out, a little snap only meant for your ears, and yet, somehow, he seemed to have heard it loud and clear.

the second, and i mean the second, those words leave your mouth, max’s head will have spun around to look at you in disbelief, sparing little to no time before he’s placing his hands flat on the desk of your cubicle and narrowing his eyes at you, only to growl:

“my office, right now.”

hope you’re ready bby, cause max certainly is.

all your coworkers have to pretend that they don’t know exactly whats going to happen when max asks you to close the door behind you.

max practically shuffles his desk into the wall while bending you over it and fucking you into tomorrow, in his mind, this was his way of showing you what an attitude like that would get you

they also pretend that they can’t hear the banging and muffled moans coming from his office, he’s their boss, they can’t say shit.

by the time your waddling out of his office, sheepishly adjusting your dress and collar, all while max leans in the door frame with a confident smirk plastered on his face.

this is then followed by him demanding that everybody stop staring and get back to work.

jack daniels a.k.a agent whiskey :

i love our yeehaw man, you love our yeehaw man, we love our yeehaw man.

so i can’t work out why you would want to get on this mans nerves.

it starts out small, little things that you know will push his buttons, stealing his hat off of his head once, then twice and then finally a third time.

you sat on his desk beside where he was working and grabbed the hat off of his head for the third time after he’d taken it back, placing it on top of your head and flicking the brim upwards playfully.

you knew he could stop you from taking it, but he was either enjoying this more than he was letting on, or didn’t have the heart to stop your fun, either way; what had started out as fun was very noticeably beginning to annoy him.

he sighed deeply when you grinned at him, swinging your legs back and fourth from where you were sitting.

“babygirl, light of my life, will you please stop taking my hat.”

his voice was audibly tired as he looked up at you, only to see you grinning.

“but i like it, it looks better on me.”

by the sound he made, you could tell you were right, or at the very least, he really enjoyed seeing you in his hat, but despite that, he still lifted a hand to reach for it only to have you lean away from his reach

“i’m gonna have to ask for that back sugar.”

“make me cowboy.”

as soon as you said that, his eyes noticeably darkened as soon as you said it, leading to him standing up and stepping in front of you, standing between your legs.

“i won’t ask again babycakes. give me the hat.”

your only response was to lean in and smile at him.

“make. me.”

that was the limit, within mere blinks of an eye you found yourself bent over whiskey’s knee as he sat down in his office chair, the hat still on your head.

“i gave you the chance babygirl, no arguing now.”

your ass is gonna be red by the time your out of that chair, and i can confirm you will indeed be walking weird tomorrow.

but hey, it was worth the hat, wasn’t it?

pero tovar :

baby i hope you know what you’re doing..

you stole his coin purse off of his belt while walking past him in the market, you’d stolen several coin purses today, this was just the first one that caught you.

you were only a few meters away when you’d heard him yell out from behind you, resulting in you breaking into a sprint through the crowd in order to get away from the mercenary now hunting you.

it took a few minutes of running before you were able to successfully escape, hiding behind a building and leaning against the wall huffing and puffing feeling like you were going to be sick.

finally calm enough to continue on, you turned the corner only to run bang smack into said mercenarys chest, the now very angry mercenary.

“you made me chase you through three streets senorita.”

despite attempting to turn and run once more, he caught you almost instantly and had you slammed against the wall.

“you’re one of the only people that have been able to outrun me, but despite this, you stole from me. give it back.”

maybe it was the high adrenaline, or the fact that the close proximity was allowing you to feel his breath on your cheek, but for some reason, you decided to dig your own grave even deeper.

“make me.”

the growl that left that man was nothing if not animalistic, the next thing you knew, you’d been swung around and having your chest pressed against the wall as he grinded against you, dipping face down to breathe in your scent.

“if we’re going to be like that senorita...”

yeah, needles to say you had a very fun time from then on out explaining to people how you met your latin lover.

dave york :

death. ELECTRIC CHAIR. did u really, reeeaallly decide to give a trained assassin attitude? ur funeral babes.

i don’t even want to know how it happened, but as soon as that man heard “make me.” leave your pretty little lips. oh mama.

you were bent over the kitchen counter, hand through your hair, pulling it back and other hand blissfully placed around your neck, gradually applying more pressure.

“oh, you thought that was fucking funny? you want me to make you? you little fucking whore, i’ll make you then.”

trust this man will be leaving several bruises all over your body, this is literal hate fucking at a certain point, there is no other way to describe the way this man reacts to attitude of any kind.

words cannot describe the state that you are left in, but as much as it hurt, the aftercare is worth it. waking up to him laying soft kisses along your shoulder, all the bruises and bitemarks.

bringing you coffee while running you a bath so that the two of you can relax and let your body recover from the absolute torture and pleasure it has been through

369 notes · View notes

readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 40 | End

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 6.9k

; Warnings: Slight anxiety attack, mentions of panic, slight body issues

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: So...this is it 😢 Flower is officially over! I started writing this on November 15th, 2019. Almost a year later, here we are with 40 chapters, 3 drabbles and 180k of words. Can you believe I actually finished it? I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading it and the journey of the MC finding herself and falling in love with Hoseok. It’s been so fun to write and it’s sad to let it go. If you’ve enjoyed reading this, please let me know with a comment or an ask! I’ve loved reading how much you’ve all felt seen or embraced by the MC with her struggles and I’d love to hear your thoughts on not only this chapter but the whole fic! Feedback is what keeps authors going and I came very close to leaving writing once Flower was finished but I’m still going to carry on. I’m not sure if this chapter is good or not, but I hope you enjoy it anyway and think it a fitting end to the story!

; Flower Masterpost

“Okay...okay. Let’s do this...you can do this. It’s easy. Just...walk down the aisle. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Well, Hoseok could not be there or I could have a heart attack and drop down dead. That would suck. But it would resolve a lot of my issues, I wouldn’t have to worry about everyone watching me. On the other hand...I’m going to marry the love of my life. As long as he turns up” The soft sounds of your muttering are probably barely heard over the soft playing music through the speakers in the room, YouTube playing mindlessly to itself.

It was a good job, as it meant that no one else in the room could hear your panicked thoughts that were being verbalised. Hoseok and you had decided to get married at an exquisite mansion hotel with the ceremony itself being in the elegant gardens outside. There was a full-sized maze alongside a stunning fountain, the centrepiece being a marble depiction of Aphrodite rising from the shallows.

You’d taken a walk around the perfectly groomed gardens the night before, taking in all the decorations that you’d painstakingly picked out over the months that had been artfully arranged by the staff. The flowers in the gardens were beautiful, a smorgasbord of pinks, oranges, violets, reds and yellows that brought the whole area to life. Alongside it looking visually perfect, it also smelled amazing as well with the soft scent of different flowers mixing.

At night, the tiny fairy lights that had been strung up around the building front and the metal trellises that were organised in the garden gave off a soft, golden glow. It made the whole place look ethereal and you were excited for everyone else to get to see it during the reception tonight.

The actual wedding ceremony was scheduled to start at two in the afternoon, with only friends and family invited for that. It would be outside as well, with Hoseok and you standing at the end of a make-shift aisle on the lawn section of the hotel’s garden. Temporary chairs had been arranged on both sides for your guests, dark wood with ivory silk draped over everyone. At the end of the aisle, each chair had a silk bow in ivory and deep purple alongside a bouquet of specially arranged flowers.

It all looked perfect and you’d marvelled at it yesterday, amazed that they’d managed to bring your vision to life. Now all you had to do was walk down it and get married, which was where you were a little panicked.

The room that had been assigned to the bridal party was on the lower floor of the hotel, reducing the risk of you potentially killing yourself by tripping over your dress while walking down the stairs. It was technically two hotel rooms connected through a shared bathroom, which you found bizarre.

Your mom and Hoseok’s mom had taken the other room for their use to get changed, the hairdresser and makeup artist they’d hired working there to make them look their best for the ceremony. Even now, you could hear them chattering and laughing away with each other. Even through your anxiety, you can’t help but smile as you hear them get on so well.

Any fears you’d had about them not liking each other had quickly disappeared. Instead, they’d become good friends and liked to meet up now and then to have a talk over coffee or something. It pleased you to see your mom getting to have more friends.

Eden and Amelia had also chosen to get ready in that room, not wanting to crowd the one you were in too much. It was already full of dresses and a ridiculous amount of makeup and hair product with only four of you so you couldn’t even imagine the chaos with five of you.

In your room was Soyeon, Chungha and Dahyun alongside you. Dahyun was currently three months pregnant, having successfully been inseminated with Jungkook’s sperm. He’d agreed to their request and after a few months of getting prepared for the attempts, Dahyun had undergone the procedure. What it had been exactly, you didn’t know because you hadn’t felt it was your business to pry into something like that.

It was a privilege to even know they were trying before anyone else. Their announcement had come at your bachelorette party when Dahyun had refused alcohol, immediately leading Soyeon and you to be suspicious. You’d never seen Chungha’s beloved ever turn down a drink so it had been a clear sign of something at least.

Needless to say, your party had happily become a celebration of their impending baby. Thankfully, you weren’t one of those people who got overly annoyed at others announcing things at events. Or at least, not big events. Your bachelorette party had been a perfect time to find out, whereas you might not have been so amenable if they’d told everyone today instead.

That was normal though, right? Today was your day. Yours and Hoseok’s. People who felt the need to co-opt special days like that were a special type of self-absorbed in your opinion.

Given it was so early into her pregnancy, Dahyun isn't showing that much. Which meant her bridesmaid dress hadn’t needed to be altered too much. None of them has gotten into their dresses just yet, instead currently in the process of getting their face and hair done. Chungha’s hair has already been done, elegantly styled into a beautiful updo with a few tendrils curled around her face.

The makeup for the girls was a smokey eye with subtle blush and contour, alongside a neutral lip. It wasn’t anything flashy, but you’d loved the concept of it all. Particularly with the small and delicate crystals that dotted along their waterline, adding a little sparkle to match the tiny crystals on their deep violet dresses.

As a present to each of them, you’d bought them a gift set from Pandora. In each one was a pair of dainty stud earrings with a heart design alongside a matching heart-shaped pendant necklace. All the hearts were encrusted with brilliant-cut stones, making the perfect gift that could be used again in the future for casual use.

They’d all been in awe of it and surprised at being given presents as well. You hadn’t even known it was a thing until you’d looked up wedding preparation online, discovering that you should also buy something for Hoseok. Which had led to you buying him the fancy watch he’d been drooling over for months now. It had been eye-watering expensive, but it had been worth it for his excited text this morning.

Along with the watch, you’d also written him a letter. It was meant to be light-hearted and fun, but you’d ended up writing way too much as you’d poured out your love to him alongside everything you felt for him. To your eternal embarrassment, you’d ended up crying while writing it as you’d told him everything you’d never been able to vocalise, including writing possibly a million times that you love him.

He’d been instructed to not read that until just before the ceremony.

His present to you was a gaming table, which might not seem to be very sentimental to anyone else but you’d been ecstatic over it. For years now, you’d been saying that you wanted to buy a proper table that was designed for board games and that could then be used as a normal table when converted. They were super expensive so you’d resigned yourself to never getting one, but he’d printed out the receipt of what he’d ordered and put it into an envelope for you to open tonight.

Neither of you had ever been a traditional couple, and that certainly wasn’t about to change with marriage.

“Hey, you okay?” Amelia asks, interrupting your intense thought process as she sits down next to you. As usual, her aura is warm and reassuring as she reaches over to gently squeeze at your hand. You don’t spend a huge amount of time around her, but you knew both Eden and her enough to want them in your bridal party.

“Yes? No? Maybe? I don’t know. I’m just…” Trailing off, you struggle to find the right words and instead gesture towards the air. It makes no sense but you can’t quite figure out what you’re trying to say. Mainly because you can’t figure out what your mind is thinking.

“It’s okay to be worried, don’t feel like you shouldn’t be. If you’re anxious or nervous then that’s okay as well. Don’t let anyone tell you how you should be feeling, just feel what you are. Trust Hoseok, trust yourself and all your family and friends. We’re all here for you and we want you to have the best day possible. Tell us if anything is wrong, okay? I have no doubt that Chungha and Soyeon would strong-arm everyone into whatever was necessary to make you feel comfortable.” She says, smirking as she nods over to the two women who are chattering away in their respective chairs.

“I know, I know. I’m trying. It’s just...god, everyone is going to be staring at me and I hate being the centre of attention,” Looking down at your hands, you chew at your lips. “What if I mess up the vows? Or I freeze or drop the ring?”

“Hey, it’s normal to feel that. I doubt there’s anyone who’s gotten married who wasn’t at least a little bit anxious about messing something up. Yes, everyone is here to watch you, but they’re for Hoseok too. I’m sure he’s just as worried that he might make a mistake, and if you do then, so what? It’s not going to ruin anything, it just means your human. If anything, people will probably find it endearing. The only person you should concern yourself with is Hoseok, and I doubt there’s anything you could do today to ruin the day for him. Unless you don’t go.” Amelia laughs when you give a shocked gasp, jaw-dropping open and eyes wide.

“I would never do that! But what if he decides he doesn’t want to get married anymore?” Now the worry that had wiggled itself deep inside your mind comes to the fore and you find yourself almost whispering the words. It feels like a betrayal to Hoseok for even thinking he’d do that, but you can’t help the fear.

You must not have been quite enough though as Chungha speaks up, facing you in her chair with a stern expression on her face as she wags her finger. “Lady, do not think that. I don’t want that thought to even enter your head. As if Jung Hoseok is ever going to back out now. I think that man would’ve eloped with you if you’d asked instead. He’s going to be standing at the end of that aisle, probably bawling like a baby.”

“Maybe not that far.” This is from Eden, who’s laid out on the bed in the centre of the room, playing Zelda on her Switch. She’d had her makeup done earlier and is now waiting for the hairdresser to be free while Amelia is waiting for her makeup. All of you had decided that you’d be last to get ready to make sure that everything looked as fresh as possible.

“Want to bet? That man is gonna be sobbing.” This starts up a whole ten-minute discussion about whether or not Hoseok was going to cry at seeing you. Namjoon hadn’t cried but Jimin had during their weddings, surprising no one. But Namjoon had cried at the birth of his daughter.

You weren’t sure, to be honest. Hoseok didn’t cry all that often and you could probably count on one hand how many times you’d seen it over four years. On top of that, you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to see him crying. It made your chest hurt when he did and you always ended up crying too.

Something about seeing strong and proud men cry was just heartbreaking to you.

For a while, you just sit back and let the conversation wash over you as they all debate and borderline argue, intensely amongst themselves. They’d all switched around now and they’ll soon start getting into their bridesmaid’s dresses, which meant you’d be finally getting ready.

Your nails had been done the night before with a beautiful design in the same colour scheme as the wedding. They looked so pretty and elegant, which was a surprise to you every time you looked at them as you never really bothered doing your nails. While you liked to do fancy makeup looks now and then to post onto social media, nails were not something you were interested in.

Maybe you should reassess that thought.

“Anyway, what we’re all trying, and failing, to say is that Hoseok loves you and if he doesn’t cry then he’s crying inside at how beautiful you are.” Soyeon states firmly, sitting next to you and admiring your nails as well. All the bridesmaids had the same style to keep the theme going and she wiggled her fingers with a bright smile.

“I’m not even ready yet, you don’t know if I’ll be beautiful.”

There’s dead silence in the room after the comment, with even the hairdresser and makeup artist turning to stare at you. Between the six other women in the room, you’re pretty sure that they’ve got every emotion from shock to annoyance to incredulity covered. Feeling yourself get warm at their attention, you look down to your lap in embarrassment.

Obviously, the wrong thing to say.

“Okay, we’re going to ignore that you just said that. You don’t need to be dolled up and in a wedding dress to be beautiful, it’s just going to enhance what you already have. And I don’t want any arguments on that.” Poking your side lightly, you playfully wince at Soyeon as she scolds you. Everyone else is nodding along solemnly before they carry on with whatever they’d been doing.

“Seriously though, I overheard your conversation with Amelia. She’s right. Embrace your feelings but don’t let them overwhelm you. Standing in front of a crowd is nerve-wracking for anyone, but you’ve got the love of your life standing there with you. Just focus on Hoseok, he’ll get you through it. He always has, right?” Soyeon said.

Giving her a half-smile, you nod and do a remarkably good job of looking like a scolded child or something. You know it’s just because she loves you that she doesn’t want you to berate yourself, along with the fact that she knows what you’re like. If someone doesn’t verbally acknowledge your problems then you’ll just obsess over them.

Your phone screen lights up in your lap before it begins to vibrate suddenly, Hoseok’s name visible on the screen. Frowning down at it, you wonder why he’s calling before a multitude of emotions and thoughts runs through your mind.

“Go take it in the bathroom.” Pulling you up, Soyeon practically pushes you into the bathroom before giving you a smile and a thumbs-up as she closes the door.

Seeing the other door is also open, you peek out and let everyone in that room know that you’d be using the bathroom for a few minutes and to not come in. Once you get the acknowledgement, you close and lock it as well before pushing up to sit on the counter.

“Hobi! Why are you calling?” Leaning back against the mirror, you frown deeply as you question him. The first response is just his familiar deep chuckle, the sound already helping to soothe some of your frayed nerves.

“Amelia texted Joon, who told me. I don’t want you to stress yourself out! Not today, today’s meant to be a happy day. No stress. Or anxiety.” Snorting, you roll your eyes as you trace an invisible design onto your thigh.

“Sure, like that’s gonna happen. You know me. And why are you calling? We’re not meant to see each other until the wedding, it’s bad luck!” There’s a brief pause and you can practically hear him rolling his eyes, the deep sigh he lets out telling you all you need to know.

“Meeps, I’m pretty sure that only counts for physically seeing each other. I can’t see you right now. I don’t recall anything about not being allowed to hear you, or talk to you. Besides, we make our luck.” He sounds so nonchalant and now it’s your turn to sigh at him.

“You’re going to get us hit by lightning or something.”

“Impossible, the weather schedule for today is meant to be sunny with a little bit of cloud later on. Nice warm temperatures that aren’t too hot but also not too cold. Perfect. No lightning.” His immediate rebuttal has you laughing, unable to stay mad at him for too long. Not when he’s trying so hard to take your mind off things.

“Seriously though, are you okay? What are you worried about? Talk to me.” Hoseok asks, his voice calm and steady as he stops joking around. There’s a brief moment of resistance, the thought that you don’t want to bother him with your silly thoughts or annoying emotions before you remember that you can trust him. No matter how ridiculous it sounds in your head, Hoseok will listen and he won’t make fun of you.

“I’m just...scared. Of all the people. Like, they’re going to be watching me or staring. What if I look fat or ugly? Or I fuck up saying the vows? Or I drop the ring or my dress splits or something? Or if I trip down the aisle?! Or if you decide you don’t want to marry me anymore?” As you begin to reel off the questions that have been plaguing your mind, you can feel your chest getting a little tighter and your breathing shallower.

With the practised ease of someone who’s dealt with your panic attacks over the years, Hoseok makes calming and reassuring noises over the phone until you’re silent. Just listening to him, you take in the comforting words as he lets you know that you’re okay and everything is fine. Finally, once he thinks you’re calm enough, he carries on.

“Meeps, that’s fine. Don’t be upset that you’re having those thoughts. I’ve had every one of those thoughts today as well. I mean...not the dress one. Substitute that for pants splitting or something, which is even more embarrassing because my underwear is not black today. But the point I’m trying to make here is that it’s normal to have those thoughts today. I’d probably be more worried if you weren’t having them.” He pauses to laugh before you hear shuffling noises.

There’s no doubt he’s probably not even getting into his tuxedo just yet and you curse the fact that men take far less time to get ready than women. He’ll probably only start like...an hour before the ceremony begins or something.

“But all I’ll say is, it doesn’t matter if anything goes wrong because we’ll fix it. You and me, just like always. You won’t look fat or ugly because you’re neither fat nor ugly anyway, instead, you’ll be the most beautiful woman here. Which you always are to me but don’t let my mom hear me tell you that. And I’m going to be standing at the end of the aisle, I promise you that. I’m the one who proposed to you and I will be there, waiting for you. That’s one thing I can assure you of completely.” Hoseok says this firmly, his voice perhaps more serious than you’ve ever heard it before.

You can practically feel his determination to make you understand that he’s going to be there. That he’s going to marry you today, no matter what happens. It makes your heart swell with love and emotion, causing you to press your hand against your mouth.

Hoseok takes your silence as a positive, choosing to let it carry on for a little longer before speaking once more.

“I love you, Meeps. And by the end of today, you’re going to be my wife. We’re going to have a great day with a beautiful ceremony and a fun reception before probably going to bed drunk. Or at least, I’m going to be drunk. Not entirely sure if I’ll be able to take you to Poundtown tonight-”

“Don’t ever say that again.”

“But if not tonight then definitely tomorrow. Unless you don’t want me to drink, in which case probably tonight if you’re up for it.” Shaking your head, you can’t help but smile at his stupid comments. He always knew how to cheer you up, even if it was with the most ridiculous thing you’d heard today.

“You can drink, I’m not going to make you sober throughout the entire reception. I want you to have fun with everyone, so if you end up drunk then that’s fine. Just don’t go overboard.”

“Choosing to ignore my Poundtown comments, I see.”

“Jung Hoseok, I am going to hang up now. I will see you later, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” Feeling a little shy, you murmur your next words into the phone.

“Love you too.”

The ceremony is officially about to start and you stare at the open door, knowing that outside all your guests are waiting. Not only that, but Hoseok is at the end of the aisle. You’d been reassured by everyone there who had peeked out to make sure, quelling your fears and worries.

All the groomsmen had come inside upon finding out you were here, lining themselves up alongside their specified bridesmaid partners and chatting away happily. They all looked incredibly handsome in their suits, the colours matching the bridesmaids perfectly and you felt a little pride at having thought of a good colour scheme.

Your mom is fussing around you, making sure that your dress looks perfect and that your bouquet hasn’t fallen apart or anything. Sighing, you gently push her hands away as she tries once more to move your necklace.

All of them had given you something as part of the tradition for the bride. Dahyun had lent you a beautiful Cartier bracelet, glowing with diamonds, as part of the ‘something borrowed’ while Chungha had bought you diamond earrings for the ‘something new’. Your mom had given you the bracelet she’d worn for her wedding, now occupying your other wrist and Hoseok’s mom had provided the necklace adorning your neck.

It was a beautiful silver necklace with a dainty leaf design, leading to the main piece in the centre which was dotted with tiny diamonds. Each leaf spreading out had either amethyst or an aquamarine gem in alternating order. She’d ordered it specially made for your wedding, matching your engagement ring with the gems and fulfilling the ‘something blue’.

You’d been amazed at everything they’d given you, understanding now why they’d all told you now to buy any jewellery for the day. They’d all decided to make sure you had everything you needed anyway.

But you knew that your mom’s need to keep straightening out your dress or brushing away unseen dust was just to keep herself preoccupied. She’d already cried once when you’d come out in your wedding dress, makeup and hair all done. That had earned her an exasperated sigh from the makeup artist.

“Mom, mom, come on,” You coo to her, smiling before taking her hands and squeezing. “You gotta go out there, go get your place.”

She hesitates for a moment, unwilling to leave you before nodding. After a few words of reassurance from her to you, telling you that you’re going to do well and it’s all going to go fine, she turns and hugs your dad tightly before kissing him. You’d feel embarrassed at the sight of it, never quite being comfortable with your parents' displays of affection, but it just causes you to laugh softly.

Once she’s out the door, you hear the music begin from outside, the notes flowing through the door faintly. Everyone inside quietens and you can almost feel the excitement ramp up. It just makes you feel more nervous though, particularly when they start to head out in their pairs slowly.

“Are you ready?” Your dad asks, his eyes already going glassy with tears as his lip wobbles slightly. Giving him a concerned look, you immediately reach up to wipe the tears as they start to fall, feeling your heartbreak at the sight of your dad crying. He never cried.

“Dad! Don’t cry, oh my god. I’m sorry.” Cleaning up his face quickly, you’re stopped by the gentle way he grasps your wrists. For a moment, you think that he’s going to push you away but instead, he pulls you closer and carefully hugs you.

It’s a little awkward as you’re trying not to ruin the carefully done hair and makeup, but you can’t deny your dad a hug. Especially when you’d never really been much of a hugger growing up. You would be cruel to deny him one, especially on your wedding day. Your parents were feeling emotional that their little girl was getting married today.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just your old dad getting sappy. You look so beautiful. Hoseok is so lucky, you better remind him of that every day.” He’s pulled back now, giving you the softest smile that is still a little watery. His hands move to your shoulders and he stands back to examine you fully, his eyes taking in everything.

Before you can respond to him, Yoongi is disappearing out of the door and heading towards the aisle. He’s alone, as you’d planned, but in one hand is the bouquet that Hoseok’s sister would’ve held had she still been alive. It had been his suggestion to hold it, symbolising the family member that Hoseok didn’t have anymore and you’d been more than willing to agree.

You wondered what Hoseok thought when he saw it as neither of you had told him that Yoongi would be holding it. Hopefully, he was happy with it, along with his parents.

Turning back to you, your dad squeezes your shoulders reassuringly before smiling at you. Ironically, all it does is make you more nervous as you realise that now you’re the one who’s going to have to walk down that aisle next.

“Come on, it’s time to make your fiancé cry.” His words in a teasing tone, your dad turns to face the door before offering you his arm. Standing there, you stare at him before looking at the door with trepidation. Nerves roil in your stomach as you hear the faint sound of music playing, knowing that everyone out there is waiting for you.

Which in turn means everyone will be staring at you.

Those nerves quickly turn to anxiety and your breath comes faster, chest feeling a little constricted by the tight bodice of the dress. Without even realising it, your hands start to shake and the bouquet in them shudders visibly.

Quickly, your dad takes the bouquet from you to make sure that you don’t accidentally deflower them or crush the stems. The last thing you needed was to ruin your perfect bouquet only minutes before you were supposed to walk down the aisle.

It frees up your hands and you find yourself flapping them as you stress, trying to shake out the negative emotions as you pant. Your dad’s eyes widen, obviously panicking himself at your obvious distress. He’s never had to deal with you struggling like this before and he doesn’t know what to do but his paternal instincts kick in quickly.

“Hey, come on, sweetheart. Breathe, breathe. Take a big breath in, come on, that’s it. Not let it out slowly. And again, that’s right.” Talking to you in his comforting voice, tone level and low, you follow his instructions and start to feel a little calmer as you force yourself to calm your breathing. It’s hard, and you still feel the anxiety but it feels a little more manageable now.

Closing your eyes, you run through all the tips your therapist had given you for how to cope with anxiety attacks. What worked for you was to sing in your head, the lyrics, whatever song you were loving lately. It probably takes longer than you’d have liked but finally you feel like you can cope with your emotions enough to carry on.

When you open your eyes again, your dad is giving you an expectant, yet worried, look. Shaking your hands once more, you reach out and take the bouquet from him before taking a deep breath. Linking your arm through his, you straighten your shoulders and lift your chin before smiling at him.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

Walking down the aisle is surprisingly less stressful than you’d imagined. The famous wedding song plays through the air as you walk slowly and the whole atmosphere feels almost like a fairytale. The soft lights twinkle even in the daylight while the gentle, warm breeze makes the ribbons on the chairs flutter delicately.

Along the floor, the white and purple rose petals that Namjoon’s daughter had spread in her role as flower girl were strewn haphazardly. A few of them caught the breeze and rolled delicately to a new place, making it seem like the floor was consistently changing. You liked it, smiling at the sight of how beautiful everything looked.

Everyone was staring at you, as you’d expected, but surprisingly it wasn’t as intimidating as you’d thought. You didn’t exactly enjoy it but it wasn’t terrible. Probably because you were more focused on initially admiring how perfect everything looked. How months and months of thought and money had finally accumulated into the perfect wedding.

But mostly, you weren’t as bothered by the staring because you were focused on the end of the aisle. There was no real altar here, given that it was being held at a hotel and everything, but the metal garden arch at the end had been decorated in delicate flowers, ribbons and lights to make an even better end.

And beneath it stood Hoseok.

If you’d ever thought Hoseok looked handsome before then it paled in comparison to him today. His black tuxedo made him look tall and slim, every part of him looking perfectly put together and elegant. The deep purple waistcoat beneath his jacket contrasted with the white of his shirt perfectly; the colour combination making his skin almost glow with health and happiness.

There was only the slightest hint of tattoos at the edge of his collar, leaving to the imagination the artwork he had permanently on his body beneath his clothes but you didn’t need to imagine. You’d seen them all, traced them delicately into your memory over the years until you could point out where they were without even seeing them.

Finally reaching him, you paused to look at your dad and gave him a bright smile of gratitude before giving him a second hug. This one was a little tighter than before and when you let go of him, you saw that he was crying once more. He didn’t give your hand to Hoseok, instead just gave him a stern look while trying to surreptitiously wipe away his tears.

“You look after her, Jung Hoseok. You make sure she’s the happiest woman.” There’s iron in his voice, telling Hoseok that it wasn’t a question but more a command. But there’s also love and affection in it, something Hoseok can tell as well by the way he nods his head.

Handing your bouquet to Chungha, you take Hoseok’s proffered hand. Up close, you can take in the details of his face better and you take a moment to simply admire him and imprint him into your memory.

The sides of his head had been shaven, the undercut short and seen with the style he’d chosen to wear today. His hair had been styled back, pushed away from his forehead. It was a look that had made you weak in the knees many times over the years and you’d practically begged him to have it for the wedding, knowing that he’d blow everyone’s mind with how handsome he looked.

Hoseok had a face that looked like it had been hand-carved by the gods from the finest marble anyway and this hairstyle showed off all the highlights of his face. The high cheekbones that made his smiles so animated, his cutting jawline, the clean slope of his nose, the heart-shaped smile that lit his entire face and the dimples that made him seem so human.

His lip ring was still in, the silver shining in the sunlight. He’d been unsure whether to wear it but you’d told him to embrace himself and keep it. You’d fallen in love with him as he was, and you wanted him to show himself how you saw him. Which included his piercings and tattoos.

Your heart clenched though when you looked into his eyes finally. Hoseok’s eyes were one of your favourite things about him. The crescents they turned into when he smiled brightly, pushed into the shape by his cheeks and the way his eyes could practically dance with delight when he was happy.

Today though, those beautiful and expressive eyes were watery with tears. The wet streak on his cheek told you that he’d already had some of them fall and you frowned at the sight of them. Everyone had been right; Hoseok had cried upon seeing you down the aisle.

“Baby.” You whisper, unsure if you’re meant to talk to him. Deciding you don’t care, you reach up to wipe away the tears and smile when he kisses the palm of your hand before nuzzling into it, uncaring of everyone else.

“Meeps, you look perfect. I read your letter, I love you too.” Before you can stop him, he’s leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. There’s a murmur in the crowd, alongside some laughter and he looks over at everyone with a raised brow.

No one says anything though and he gets a satisfied look, ignoring your shy expression as you turn away from everyone.

“You’re not supposed to do that.” Keeping your voice low, you give a hesitant smile to the official who will be taking you both through your ceremony. Hoseok lets out a snort of laughter as he squeezes your hand tight, letting his thumb run along the back of your hand lovingly.

“I don’t care. It’s our wedding, I’ll do what I want.” And before you can stop him, he turns you and gives you another kiss, this one lingering a little longer. Eyes widening, you can’t help but giggle as you hear yet more laughter.

You should be annoyed at him, but you know he’s a force of nature. Plus, you don’t care. It feels nice to know he can’t help himself.

“Okay, let’s get married, Meeps.” He grins at you before facing the officiant once more. Staring at him a moment longer, you smile at him and nod.

“Let’s get married.”

Hobi Hobi,

We’re getting married today! Are you excited? I hope you’re reading this when I told you to, if not then you’re cheating >:[ it feels weird to write a letter. I don’t even know if I’ve ever done this before, so I’m sorry if it sounds really cheesy and lame. What do people write in these normally? I’m just going to write what comes to mind so if it ends up sappy then you’re not allowed to tease me later about it.

Anyway, I want you to know that I’m sorry that I suck so much at telling you how I feel and my emotions. I wish I could be one of those people who’s telling you every moment how handsome you are and how much I love you but I can’t. I’m sorry :( I’m trying, I swear! Even if I don’t get to tell you as often as you deserve, I hope you know that I love you more than anything in the world.

Don’t ever forget that, okay? Even when we’re arguing over something silly or we go to bed mad at each other, don’t forget that. I know we’re pretty good at talking things out but there’s always that chance that we could have a big blowout. So I want you to remember that I love you.

I’m still not entirely sure what I did to deserve you, but I don’t regret sending you that message. If anything, I think I should send the Flower team a big bunch of flowers or something for creating the algorithm that brought you up as a match. Imagine if it hadn’t and I’d just deleted the app, we’d have never met and I’d still be lonely and sad.

But we did meet, and I took a chance on you by sending you that embarrassing message. And then you took a chance by actually meeting up with me and going on that date. I still remember it, and I don’t know if I ever told you but I still have the ticket for the escape room. I know you still have yours in your wallet :) Thank you for giving me your time, even if I wasn’t your type. I hope I’m your type now.

I’m not sure that I will ever be able to tell you how important you are to me. Not only myself but my life. You’ve helped me to embrace myself and learn to love myself over the years through kindness. I know my limits in terms of my mental health now and you’ve helped to support me with the medication and the therapist. Neither of those were things I’d been comfortable with doing before your encouragement. But you also gave me a safe space to break down in; somewhere that I knew I could be at my most vulnerable mentally without having to risk being hurt even more.

You held me when I cried, you comforted me when I panicked and you calmed my anxiety over the years. I can never thank you enough for helping me to understand that these aren’t deficiencies and I’m not broken. I just need a little help to get through things sometimes. At the same time, I hope that I’ve become that safe space for you as well. I know that you’re not as emotional as I am, but I feel that you’ve opened up to me about things that hurt you. I’ll keep your secrets safe and I’ll always be here for you!

I hope you’re happy with your life now. With me, and our home and our furbabies. I hope you stay happy, and if you don’t then talk to me. Please. I don’t want us to ever realise that we’re making each other unhappy and I don’t want to ever be the reason for negativity. I want to spend the rest of my life with you in our little home, growing old together as we play board games and dote on our animals while you increase your tattoo collection even more. I know that people like to say that they can’t imagine their lives with their significant other, but I really do feel like that.

My life without you would be hollow and monochrome, as you bring colour to my world and fill it with joy and happiness. I’ve never laughed as much as I have these last few years with you and I know we’ll keep that in our relationship if we try hard.

I don’t really know where this letter is going and I’m babbling now. But I guess the main thing is just that I can’t wait to marry you. It may not be very feminist of me but I can’t wait to take your name and be your wife. I can’t wait to call you my husband. I’m going to be terrified in the ceremony and so nervous but I’ll be happy too, I promise! I still can’t believe that you picked me, out of all the women you’ve seen, to be your girlfriend and then decided that you wanted to marry me.

Jung Hoseok, I solemnly swear to treasure you for the rest of your life and make sure you know how much I love you. I might not be able to tell you all that much, but I’ll show you. I’ll make you smile and laugh, I’ll buy you things that make me think of you, I’ll hug you tight and cuddle you until you’re complaining.

So in case it wasn’t obvious enough, I love you. I just want you to know because I know I suck at telling you, like I said. I’m also bad at writing letters but what’s new? I’ll finish this off quickly so you’re not spending too long reading this. Don’t want to make you late for our wedding after all.

I love you. I love you, Jung Hoseok. I love you, Hobi. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Lots and lots and lots of love, your soon to be wife <333333

426 notes · View notes

sturchling · 3 years

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Gilded Poppy VS Hawkmoth

This is another part to the idea that I saw and talked about with @anastasian-dreamer and @musicfeedsmysoul12 . I just had to write it out! Find the first story here! The Gilded Poppy helping take down Hawkmoth. There will be some spoilers for the final episode of the first season of Jett’s route, so keep that in mind if you still haven’t read it. I hope you all like it!

The Gilded Poppy had never really paid Hawkmoth any mind. Sure he was a pain when his akumas interrupted their heists. But sometimes the chaos worked to their advantage as well. So they never really saw a point in worrying about it. Sure, they always made sure that Tom, Sabine, Marinette, and the bakery were fine after each attack, but that was about as involved as they got with the situation. That was until Hawkmoth came after one of their own.

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Jett couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He felt almost numb. One of his best mates, Jock was laid out on the floor in front of him. Dead. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings at all. So it was a good thing that the rest of the Poppy was heard the ticking sound, and pulled him out of the building before the bomb went off. Now, as he stood on the street, watching the building before him burn and a crowd gathered around, Jett didn’t know what to think. Then he saw him at the edge of the crowd. Hugo Vansittart standing there, staring at Jett. Jett instantly saw red. He knew that Hugo did this and he was going to make him pay dearly for it. From the corner of his eye, he saw a dark butterfly fly towards his poppy pin. Then suddenly a strange feeling came over Jett, like his rage was increased ten fold. And a soothing voice spoke in his head. That is the last thing he remembered.

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Jett had been turned into Judgement, a justice based akuma that used an attack he called truth bomb. Anyone hit with his bombs confessed to any crimes they may have committed. For most people hit during this akuma attack, it was small stuff like jay walking, or littering. But Jett made sure to hit Hugo who confessed, during the live TV coverage of this akuma, to killing Jock and making the building explode. The other members of the Poppy made sure to avoid Jett. They wanted to help their friend, but if they got hit they would reveal they were members of the Poppy and that couldn’t happen. Ladybug soon had Jett deakumatized and Hugo was arrested immediately, along with some other citizens who had admitted to more serious crimes. Now Jett and the rest of the Poppy were angry for a whole new reason. How dare Hawkmoth come after one of them. They were fine leaving him to Ladybug, until now. An attack on one of them was an attack on them all, and no one messed with the Gilded Poppy and got away with it.

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That said, the Poppy knew they would need help. They knew they needed to contact Ladybug. So, they left a burner phone at the top of the Eiffel Tower, where she and Chat Noir often met during patrol. They also set up a camera pointed at the platform, so they would know when the two heroes arrived. As soon as the two heroes arrived on scene, the phone lit up with a new text message. The two heroes were confused, but looked at the phone thinking someone had lost it and maybe they could return it to its owner. But when they read the message they knew it was for them. Hi Ladybug and Chat Noir. We are the Gilded Poppy. We wish to help eliminate Hawkmoth as a threat. He has become quite a pest to us. Our only condition is that if we meet, you do not tell anyone who we are. If this is agreeable to you, meet us here same time tomorrow. -Thief Lord

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Marinette was freaking out. She had been able to keep her composure while she talked with Chat Noir and they had agreed to at least hear the group out. But now that she is alone, she was panicking. That manner of speech from the text reminded her of someone. It reminded her of the way Nikolai spoke. And now that she thought about it, she remembered Nikolai, Remy, Vivienne, Jett, Leon, and Zoe all wearing the same pin. A golden poppy pin. Oh my god. They are the Gilded Poppy. I am friends with the Gilded Poppy. It didn’t bother Marinette, but it was certainly shocking. But she couldn’t be sure, maybe she was overthinking again. She wouldn’t be sure until she met with them tomorrow.

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Marinette was freaking out internally again. She and Chat Noir had just arrived at the Eiffel Tower when she heard Nikolai’s voice from behind her. “I assume since you are here, you agree to our terms and won’t turn us into the police?” Marinette did her best to curb her panic, and slip into her Ladybug personality. “Yes, we won’t turn you in. Come out here.” And then, standing before her, were all her friends. She had been right. They were the Gilded Poppy. For their part, the Gilded Poppy was also surprised. Sure they knew the two heroes were young, but they didn’t realize how young until now. They couldn’t be older than Marinette. But they pushed that aside, they had work to do.

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Marinette quickly took charge of the meeting and brought the thieves up to speed on everything. That the source of Hawkmoth’s power was his miraculous and how once they took that from him, he wouldn’t be a threat anymore. The Poppy felt comfortable. This was right up their alley. Stealing some fancy jewelry was nothing new to them. It would be weird to return the jewels to Ladybug and not sell them, but the Poppy understood that it was too dangerous for that to happen. For the next few weeks, the Poppy put all their resources to trying to get any clues towards who Hawkmoth could be. They also continued to meet with either Ladybug or Chat Noir every other day or so to go over any information they may have found. It was one night, during one of these meetings, that Marinette made a mistake.

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They had just finished up going over all their information. They were getting close to a suspect and the Poppy was sure they would have a name for Ladybug in the next week. As she turned to leave, Ladybug called over her shoulder “Thanks guys! See you at the bakery tomorrow.” Marinette froze as she realized what she just said. She hoped maybe they would just brush it off, but of course, the Poppy caught exactly what she had said. And it only took them about two seconds to realize what that meant. They had always thought Ladybug looked like Marinette, but convinced themselves that it was just a coincidence. But how else could they explain that comment. Remy stepped closer to Marinette, who still stood frozen on the edge of the platform in a panic. “Marinette? Is that you?” All of the Poppy was just staring at her and Marinette didn’t see a way out. So she just detransformed.

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Needless to say, there was a lot of explaining to do that night. Marinette told them everything that had happened since she received her miraculous and all her adventures as Ladybug. The Poppy was horrified to learn that this girl that they viewed as a little sister had been fighting Hawkmoth without much help. And their rage toward Hawkmoth was renewed all over again. Now this monster had gone after another one of them. He had been making Marinette’s life hard for years now. And it was going to end soon.

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By the end of the week, The Poppy had used all their Underbelly resources and found a name as a suspect for Hawkmoth. Gabriel Agreste. He was the only person in Paris that had the resources and time to be Hawkmoth. They immediately told Marinette through the burner phone they had been using and the group of thieves met with Paris’ heroes. Chat Noir seemed hesitant to consider Gabriel as a suspect, but did eventually agree that it couldn’t hurt to check into the lead. Since the heroes couldn’t exactly be breaking into a random civilian’s home, it was decided that the Poppy would break into the manor that night and search for the two missing miraculous. With a description of the two jewels from Ladybug, Nikolai, Remy, Vivienne, and Jett quietly broke into the mansion and searched the place top to bottom for the jewels or any proof that Gabriel was Hawkmoth. Zoe remained at the hotel, monitoring all the security systems for the mansion as well as the camera feeds from the cameras being worn by Nikolai and Vivienne. Ladybug and Chat Noir were with her, watching the camera feeds. Leon was outside, ready to speed everyone away from the mansion at a moments notice.

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When the group went into Gabriel’s office, they found the hidden safe in the wall, and inside that was the Peacock miraculous. Vivienne grabbed it and put the jewel in her pocket, before continuing to feel along the wall for any other secrets. Meanwhile, Chat Noir watched in horror as Vivienne pulled the miraculous out of the safe. This at the least confirms his father is involved somehow. Then the group accidently hit the right buttons to open the secret elevator up to Hawkmoth’s lair. When the cameras being worn by Nikolai and Vivienne showed the room with all the akuma butterflies flying around, it was clear that Gabriel Agreste must be Hawkmoth. Finally, Nikolai silently entered Gabriel’s bedroom. And there, resting on his nightstand was the butterfly miraculous. Nikolai snatched it and quickly left the room, as quietly as he came.

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The Poppy returned to the hotel and gave the two miraculous to Ladybug. Ladybug called the police as soon as she had the miraculous. She told them that some concerned citizens had told her that they thought Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth. She also told them that after some investigation it was proven to be true and she had recovered the missing miraculous, making it safe for them to go arrest Gabriel. When the police arrived, they found Gabriel tearing the mansion apart, looking for his miraculous. He was arrested just in time for the morning news. Soon rumors started that the other members of the Agreste household were involved as well. Adrien, feeling he had no other choice at the time, had already revealed himself to Ladybug and accidently in front of the Poppy as well the night they recovered the miraculous. Marinette also revealed herself to him. So, knowing that Adrien wasn’t involved, Ladybug publicly announced that she had cleared Adrien of any wrong doing and that he had no idea what his father had been doing. Adrien ended up living with the Dupain-Chengs, being unofficially adopted until a more permanent situation was decided on.

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Once everything had calmed down, Remy and Jett started joking that Marinette and Adrien should join them on a heist. Or at least, it had started as joking. Soon, the rest of the Poppy had joined in and they were completely serious. Jett would often wrap his arms around their shoulders, saying “Come on you two! You could do some amazing things for a heist. Think of the possibilities!” Of course they both immediately denied it. After all, Paris’ heroes couldn’t be involved in crime. But then Nikolai said that they could just steal back a stolen painting from another thief and return it to its rightful owners. The Poppy didn’t care about keeping whatever they stole, they just wanted to go on a heisting adventure with the two kids they viewed as their siblings. When he heard the suggestion, Adrien was excited and begged Marinette to agree. Eventually Marinette relented. The combined force of the Poppy begging and Adrien’s puppy dog eyes was too much.

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They worked a small heist with the Poppy to steal back a painting that had been stolen from the Louvre many years ago. It didn’t take long to retrieve the painting and Ladybug and Chat Noir made sure it was returned, anonymously so as not to raise any questions about how they recovered the painting. Soon after the heist was completed, it was time for the Poppy to leave Paris for their next heist. The thieves came by the bakery to say goodbye to Tom, Sabine, Marinette, and Adrien. They never thought these four people would become so important to them, but now they couldn’t imagine their lives without them. After saying goodbye to the group and seeing them off, Marinette and Adrien went back up to Marinette’s room. When they opened the door, they saw something shining on Marinette’s desk. Sitting on her desk were two golden pins. Two golden poppy pins. The two teens smiled wide as they picked up the pins and fixed them to their shirts, happily waiting for the day they would see their friends, the Poppy, again.

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realcube · 3 years

Text

waking up next to the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💤

pairings: kageyama x reader, akaashi x reader, suna x reader

requested; thank you to @kageyamas-whore for the idea!

tw// mentions of violence

Tobio Kageyama

tobio kageyama; others may know him as the king of the court

but you know him as the king of the thigh pillow-

well, it’s not always the thigh but it is by far his favourite

but he’s open-minded; he has used your chest, your stomach, your shoulder, your shin, your hip-- basically any and every body part that you’d allow him to touch

like seriously, he’d rather use any part of your body as a pillow instead of his actual pillow because - in his own words - “you’re comfy.”

so in a way, you don’t wake up next to him but rather under him

sometimes when he sleeps over at your house, you deadass just wake up and forget about him for a moment bc he’s not laying beside you

then, after stretching you’ll try hop out of your bed to go to the bathroom and momentarily panic when you feel tingly pressure on your leg

bc your immediate thought is ‘spider!’ as if a massive fkn spider had just crawled into your room somehow and was just vibin’ on your leg

but you let out an audible sigh of relief when you realised that it is just kageyama’s thick skull

.......

--ok, i’m just gonna say it..the mf drools

SORRY OMG HE JUST RUBS ME AS THAT KINDA GUY AND I THINK IT’S CANON TOO LOOK!

yeah so ofc if he is drooling all over your thigh - clothed or not - you’re gonna instinctively want to get him off

but he looks so peaceful when he is sleeping and you don’t want to ruin that by making him move 🥺

but then again, maybe he should’ve taken that into consideration before he fell asleep on you! (ノ｀Д)ノ

you were conflicted - to say the least

so you decided to just to use your phone as you waited for him to wake up and then when he was awake, you’d reprimand him

but your plan went to shit once he eventually woke up with his dopey, half-asleep yet kinda hot expression and his adorable bed-head

not to mention his hoarse, croaky voice ◉_◉ “morning, (y/n).”

curse him for being so naturally charming in the morning 눈_눈

so what was supposed to be ‘kageyama, can you stop drooling on me in your sleep?’ turned into a ‘good morning, baby.’

needless to say, waking up with kageyama in the morning is far from romantic or intimate

but it was definitely cute- he’s precious tbh

Keiji Akaashi

you rarely wake up before him

mans up at 6AM and sits in bed, reading a book or scrolling through Pinterest as he waits for you to wake up

when you awake, the first thing he does is place a kiss on your forehead - religiously

you’ll be all groggy and disoriented; really feeling that morning crust

and he’ll just be like “good morning, love.” 😇 with his morning glow bc he’s already showered

it’s unfair tbh, especially if you’re not a morning person

bc akaashi is just sitting there, book in hand, lookin like whole-ass deity as light seeps into the room passed the blinks and highlights all his prominent features

and you’ve literally just woken up, hissing lowly as the stray light burned your retinas

sometimes akaashi looks so scrumptious in the morning, you think that you’ve ascended to the afterlife and met a holy-being at the gates of heaven

actually, that was a lie

but akaashi genuinely looks so angelic, you can’t help but joke about it, “god, is that you?”

akaashi rolled his eyes, playfully pinching your cheek, “maybe.” he snickered, sitting his book aside before pulling you up by under your arms to wrap you in a warm, morning hug, “you’re so cute, (y/n).” he’d whisper into your hair.

“stop flirting with me, god.”

Rintarō Suna

sleeping is suna’s second favourite sport

and he’s great at it too; he’s like the ushijima of sleeping y’know?

it’s simply what he was built to do

hence, you always end up waking up before him

also, off topic for a second, but if you do uncommon stuff in your sleep like kicking, talking etc, suna is the perfect guy for you bc your sleeping antics literally do not effect/bother him at all

you could be using him as a punching bag at 4AM but if he is in REM sleep, he would just continue resting tbh

anyway, whenever you wake up and he’s still asleep, you must give him a lil’ kiss on the back of the hand

his sleeping form is not much of a sight, though

it’s really neutral; not very flattering but not unflattering either- y’know

he’s not like drooling, snoring, making weird faces or anything; he looks fine! contrary to popular belief, it’s nothing to gawk at tbh, it’s just like -_- zzz

when he eventually wakes up, he loves it when you’re the first thing he sees

like if you’re sitting next to him on the bed, just texting and he wakes up, he’ll just silently stare at you

and when you realise he’s finally awake, you’ll have to haul him out of bed,

“suna,” you whined, tugging at his leg as he clung desperately to the headboard, “it’s 3PM! please get up, i’m so fuckin’ bored on my own!”

“i’m still tiredddd.” suna groaned, aware that it was probably just morning fatigue or his desire to just laze around with you, but he found it funny to tease you.

also, the fact that you were holding his ankle, gave him the opportunity to kick you (potentially) in the face and the amount of self-control it took him to not

you aggressively shook his leg, “get up right now or i’m going to make you watch all the Sharknado movies with me!” you yelled, conscious of the fact suna was doing this just to annoy you but you still needed to get him out of bed one way or another.

“you’re resorting to torture now? wow.” he muttered, releasing his grip on the headboard and allowing you to drag him off the bed

however, that was more of a one time thing bc usually you just let him hibernate through the whole day or he gets up on his own accord

if you ever manage to sleep-in passed him- he’ll wake you up immediately, under the impression that you’re dead

“(y/n), are you okay? you’re not dead, are you?”

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amiechuchu · 3 years

Text

Magic, Mayhem, and All Things In Between

Chapter 3: Background of the Study

[A/N: finally some y/n and loki development. soft loki moments. i am once again back with the self-indulgent fic and i hope you enjoy :’)]

other chapters can be found here

Weeks had passed since you had accepted Mr. Stark’s small favor. Weeks had passed since you began spending the majority of your time with the Asgardian brothers and dear Uncle Bruce. Though the days were filled with chatter, the late nights in the lab were quite the opposite. With only the low hum of machines to keep you company, you realized how lonely it can be. It was unlike the times you spent in the hospital, where you’d be surrounded by fellow doctors, nurses, and patients even at the dead of night. Despite how these late night duties meshed with early mornings, dulling your own sense of time, you didn’t mind it because of the company that you had. Research work, on the other hand, was a different story. Despite your years of experience, the burnout and loneliness that accompanied research work slowly made its way to the deepest parts of your brain.

“Hey,” a voice said as a hand waved in front of you, snapping you out of the trance you were in. It was Loki. “Are you okay, pet? You look rather dead.” The God held up a cup of freshly brewed coffee and passed it on to you.

“I’m fine,” came your quick reply as you received the cup from him, your hands nudging his slightly, “thank you for the coffee by the way.” You gave Loki a weak smile before beginning to sip from the warm cup of comfort that was given to you.

The lack of reaction was unusual. How many times has Loki seen you flustered with just the tiniest forms of physical touch? Probably every single time. Confused, he grabbed a chair and set it down beside you. “Are all you Midgardians always so dishonest about what you feel?” There was that usual bite in his manner of speaking. Though, no matter how hard he tried to hide it in his cold demeanor, he could feel the concern dripping from the words he uttered; the loneliness he saw in your eyes hit too close to home. Did he get too close? Maybe showing that he cared was a mistake.

Keeping your eyes on the warm mug, you hummed in reply, refusing to answer a clear yes. Your eyes glanced up at the God beside you, longing to understand why he’d even bother. Clearly, you were oblivious to any form of care or concern Loki has shown. It wasn’t as if you had your guard up, rather you were quite unfamiliar with the intimacies of talking about your own feelings. Although the question he asked was clearly rhetorical, you still wondered: Do Asgardians not repress their own feelings to prevent them from getting distracted from things that truly matter?

Green orbs stared at yours, noticing the ever darkening bags under your eyes. “I was just concerned,” Loki began, voice softening. The God looked away and focused on the variety of glassware set up on the table adjacent to them, “it has been a while since you’ve left the laboratory. You didn’t even sneak out to the medical wing for a little breather.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. How could he have noticed all that? How could he have cared at all? After all, you were just a lowly Midgardian, as he put it, and he was a God, a deity, someone with power and importance. “How did you-”

“It pains me that you put me on the same level as them, little doctor,” the God interjected as he faced you once more, “out of all the weeks we’ve spent in this laboratory, you really believed I wouldn’t have noticed.” He noticed the closeness of your proximity; his form inches away from yours, yet your mind was elsewhere.

“In my defense, everyone else I’ve met in this tower described you as a narcissistic asshole and a war criminal,” you shrugged, “so, naturally, I didn't think you would care at all about my well-being.” You took a sip from your cup, and indulged in the buzz the caffeine began to give you. “But I don’t think you’re as bad as they make you out to be. They just didn’t think of the whole story. Just took out a portion of it. It was unfair - what they did to you. It felt as if you always had the short end of the stick.”

Silence.

Now, it was your turn to shock your Asgardian companion. Being on the other end of empathy was foreign to Loki as everyone treated him quite harshly. He grew up in the shadow of Thor, the more loveable sibling, and, as much as he wanted to show off his capabilities, that he was just as worthy as Thor, Loki was left in the darkness, to wallow in promises unkept, to wallow in dreams broken, to wallow in his own great tragedy.

Eyes feeling heavy, You turned your head towards Loki, waiting for a response; though you were a naturally perceptive person, the look on his face was filled with emotions you couldn’t make out. Was he mad? Did you say too much? That analysis was unwarranted, of course he’d be mad. Embarrassed, you looked down on your cup of coffee once more, “I apologize if I said anything out of line. There are just too many things in my mind right now. I don’t think I was able to filter my thoughts very well.”

“Pray tell, dear doctor. What are you thinking of?” Loki replied, deciding to change the course of their conversation. With brows slightly raised and his gaze set at your exhausted form, you felt the God studying you, attempting to break down the essence of what makes the little physician tick.

Deciding to be a smartass, you replied, “like I said, many things.” You set down your cup of coffee on the table and crossed your arms. “Why do you ask, Loki? These past few weeks you’ve been awfully helpful to the point that Uncle says it’s weird and unlikely for you to do that just for a human. I appreciate it though, but I just don’t see why you should go out of your way to listen to me.”

“Your words wound me, doctor,” Loki chuckled, emerald eyes piercing yours, “can I not be concerned? I see years worth of loneliness and unfulfilled expectations in your eyes to the point that you can’t even deny it. I’m sure you understand what isolation and over independence can do.” Your eyes softened, glistening under the incandescent lights. You were cracking slowly, and the God knew this. He knew what you were seeking: comfort, validation, a shoulder to cry on. It was clear as day.

“Well, I could see all the walls you’ve built. You know everything about everybody, but barely anyone knows anything about you,” you attempted to reply proudly; however, your words were breathy, already beginning to shake. So much for an attempted bark. Embarrassed, you looked away defensively, not taking another moment under his perceptive gaze. It felt as if all the skeletons you’ve kept inside your closet were being showcased all of a sudden, and you hated every second of it. Your stomach churned as your defenses slowly came undone; it wouldn’t take a while now for you to start oversharing, possibly even crying your eyes out. His hand tenderly reached out to the edge of your chin and tilted it towards him. It was warm, soothing. Comforting.

“I could say the same to you, darling. You act as if you don’t build walls around you, yet you keep everyone else at arms reach. I know what loneliness and distrust does to people, and I also know that you shouldn’t hold yourself accountable for all these expectations.” There was a slight pang in Loki’s chest as he said all these truths. He too bore wounds invisible to the eye. He too carried scars from the past. These emotions were far too familiar to the raven-haired God much like old friends, and he was afraid that, by reading these off your face, he’d become attached somehow, mended together by a mutual understanding of each other’s pain. What would become of his plan then? His glorious purpose?

Looking up to him, you realized how small you were, how fragile, how easy it was for him to see through your façade. It was oddly nice to have someone who had a grasp on your inner demons, albeit without consent. You felt a connection in the making.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to trust him.

Days have passed since the God of Mischief and the doctor have shared a portion of the thoughts they hid away in the darkest parts of their head. It was needless to say that the two now had an unspoken connection, a commiseration of loneliness, self-doubt, and crushing expectations. Often, they’d find their gazes focused on one another, with smiles shared and laughter exchanged. Other times, a helping hand would linger longer than usual atop the other’s. A gentle squeeze or the light encircling of one’s thumb, a sign of care and concern; these gestures only happened when the two were alone, knowing that dear Uncle Bruce would be highly against it. However, it wouldn’t be long before the others noticed.

You were grateful that today was a relatively slow day in the laboratory. Majority of the specimens that were scheduled for today’s tests were finished earlier than usual along with the case presentations and progress reports Mr. Stark had asked you to make. Though it seemed like such a small feat, you took it positively; today, you could finally take a breather. You hummed happily as you began arranging the mountain of paperwork around the main table.

Upon reaching for the next pile of papers, a familiar hand laid atop of yours. You smiled and looked at your raven-haired companion, admiring the way his tousled locks framed his oh-so ethereal face.

“Do you need help, my dear doctor?” Loki asked as his thumb drew circles on your hand. Though his silvery voice tugged at your heartstrings as they always did, your cheeks were slightly tinged a light shade of red at mention of the pet name. The God never called you his doctor before.

“I can manage,” you replied as you turned your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You kept your gaze on your hands intertwined with his, the way they fit together so perfectly. “It’s surprisingly not as busy today.”

Loki leaned down, his face close behind your neck. “A bit bold today aren’t we, pet?” he jested, breath tickling the side of your ear.

Thor observed the scene from afar, shocked. He never thought that his brother would’ve established a bond with the doctor, not in the way that Loki didn’t deserve any type of social interaction, but in the way that his brother wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. With arms crossed, the God of Thunder continued to watch as the two continued on with their intimacies, wondering when and how this managed to start. He watched the way your eyes lingered on his brother attentively; the way you were able to tug a smile on Loki’s face; the way his face lit up when you were around; the way your gentle touch was able to open a different side of Loki.

Though he was wary of his brother and his antics, Thor disregarded his suspicions: the two of you were much too happy occupied in your bubble of… friendship? No, it was more than that. So much more. Something was blossoming, and the God of Thunder was sure of it. He was unsure of the status of you and Loki’s relationship, but nevertheless he was still happy. However, he wasn’t so sure if your uncle would be so accepting of it, knowing the bad blood between what had happened in New York.

The doors of the laboratory swept open, startling the two friends. Thor coughed loudly to alert his brother and the doctor, but it was already too late for them to fall back to a more believably platonic position. Out came Mr. Stark and Uncle Bruce from the elevators, both shocked at the closeness of you and Loki. Tony looked more curious than shocked at the development. Your uncle, on the other hand, radiated a crushing aura, and, although Uncle Bruce’s face seemed calm and collected at the moment, you knew very well that there was anger hidden underneath it. He always warned you about Loki and the danger he could bring if you got involved, so it was no surprise to you if his anger came from both concern and disappointment.

Awkward air filled the room as the two made their way towards the laboratory’s main table. Loki stepped back away from you, whispering something along the lines of you being okay. You nodded in affirmation then looked down, averting any type of eye contact, and started to fiddle with the sheets of paper you had in hand.

Sighing, you knew it was taboo to speak of the laboratory’s peace out loud since it always brought bad luck. Now, you’re going to have to deal with the consequences.

taglist: @gaycatlord-stuff @aces-tattooartist

#mmaatib #magic mayhem and all things in between #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki/you #loki/reader #amie drabbles

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