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pumpkinspice-prouvaire · 2 years

Note

Time After Time four or five years after the events of the Married-In-Vegas fic?

ohohohoho, Married in Vegas fic my beloved, fiancés E and R my beloved, les amis being good friends my beloved

full fic here

Two weeks before Enjolras and Grantaire's (second) wedding

***

Enjolras and Courfeyrac both look up at the sound of the front door opening, followed by Grantaire’s frantic-sounding voice, speaking urgently. He comes in a few seconds later, on the phone, saying desperately, “But we paid a deposit.” Courfeyrac and Enjolras share a confused look, and Enjolras closes the case file they'd both been working on so he can look at Grantaire, worry in his eyes.

"Okay, okay, I understand," Grantaire says warily, leaning against the kitchen counter, "Yes. Thank you." He hangs up the phone, looks at Enjolras, and says succinctly "Catering's fucked."

"'Catering's fucked'?" Enjolras quotes drily, raising an eyebrow, "What do you mean 'catering's fucked'?"

"I mean," Grantaire says, running a hand irritably through his hair, "That the catering has cancelled on us."

Courfeyrac sucks a breath in through his teeth. "Well. That isn't ideal."

Enjolras bites his lip, looking at Grantaire anxiously. "But like it's fine right? We'll be able to fix it. It'll be fine."

"Enj, the wedding is in less than two weeks and our catering has just cancelled on us, this is absolutely not fine," Grantaire says, a hint of desperation in his voice.

Enjolras groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know. Can't we just get burgers or something?"

Grantaire, Courfeyrac is glad to see, looks appropriately horrified by this statement.

"Enjolras, my Italian grandmother is coming to this thing. Do you want her to disown me?"

Enjolras looks up from his laptop and gives Grantaire a flat stare, and Grantaire is glaring back, and Courfeyrac decides the best thing to do is diffuse this before it escalates.

"Hey, you know what you guys haven't done?" he says, and the two of them turn to look at him in unison.

"You haven't had your bachelor party yet!" he says.

For a moment, the two of them just blink owlishly at him. Then a smile spreads slowly across Enjolras' face.

"That's a funny joke, Courfeyrac," he says in a voice of forced patience.

Courfeyrac frowns. "I'm not joking."

"Courf, do you not remember what happened the last time Enjolras and I attended a bachelor party?" Grantaire says, "If you do need a reminder, you just need to wait, like, two weeks."

"It won't be like Vegas, I promise." Courfeyrac is whining and he's not afraid to admit it. "We'll do something old and boring. We'll go to Napa."

"I'm not that old, Courfeyrac," Enjolras says. "I'm only thirty."

"I called you at 10.23pm last Saturday night and Grantaire answered and said you'd been in bed for an hour."

Grantaire snorts. “He has a point, you know.” He leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of Enjolras’ head. “I'm sorry, you're right. I'm just being dramatic. It will be fine. Go back to work. I’ll call around, see if I can find a solution to this catering problem. I have a feeling Bahorel knows a guy.”

Enjolras looks up, giving Grantaire a small smile. “Okay.” As soon as he’s out of the room, however, he breathes deeply, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

"Hey," Courfeyrac says gently. "Everything okay at the minute?"

Enjolras looks up from pinching the bridge of his nose, but when he sees Courfeyrac's expression, he rolls his eyes, his expression softening.

"Yeah, don't worry. Everything's fine. Seriously." He reiterates when Courfeyrac gives him a dubious look. "Just...Busy, I guess. I’m looking forward to the wedding, but,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s kind of taking over everything at the minute, even with it being so lowkey. I feel like we haven’t had any time just to be together in weeks. There’s always something to do. I kind of just want it to stop for a day or two, you know?”

Courf makes a noise of sympathy. “It’ll be okay. Two weeks to go, right?”

Enjolras nods, smiling slightly even as he turns his attention back to his laptop. “Two weeks to go.”

Courfeyrac grins, a plan already forming in his mind. It requires a large amount of subtlety, which isn’t normally his strong suit, but he can try his best, and Combeferre should be able to reign him in. “And you have an amazing bachelor party to come before that, right?”

“No goddamn bachelor party, Courfeyrac.”

***

“How did Courfeyrac talk us into having a bachelor party, again?” Grantaire asks from the driver’s seat.

“Because for some reason, despite the fact that I’ve known him for more than 20 years and he’s nearly thirty years old, I can’t help but feel like I’ve kicked a puppy when I tell him no,” Enjolras says, leaning his head back against the headrest. They’ve been on the road for nearly an hour now, heading to a hotel in Napa Valley that Courfeyrac had found, to have what he’d genrously described as ‘Possibly the most boring joint bachelor party of all time’.

Grantaire snorts. “Wow, I’ll have to learn his secrets. You tell me no all the time.” He takes a hand off the steering wheel, resting it at the base of Enjolras’ neck, stroking his thumb slowly over the skin. “Who knows. Maybe this weekend will be fun. We might even get to relax a little bit.”

Enjolras laughs, leaning into his fiancé’s touch. “With Courfeyrac organising things? Not likely.”

"Well, it'll be a different type of stress," Grantaire concedes, and Enjolras laughs.

"It'll be nice not to think about the wedding for a few days," Enjolras says. Grantaire takes his eyes off the road to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Not that I'm not looking forward to it!" He traces his fingers across the back of Grantaire's hand, which is now resting on his thigh rather than the back of his neck. "You know I can’t wait to be your husband again. I just didn't realise a city hall wedding would require so much work."

Grantaire sighs. “Me too.” He looks across at Enjolras, a smirk on his face. “I’m starting to think we had the right idea when we drunkenly eloped in Vegas. What do you say, Enj? Five dollar ring and three bottles of vodka?”

Enjolras rolls his eyes, leaning across so he can press a kiss to Grantaire’s shoulder. It’s kind of an awkward angle, but he doesn’t really care. “I think I like our second arrangement better.”

***

Surprisingly, when they arrive, they can’t see any of their friends’ cars in the car park. Enjolras and Grantaire look at each other, frowning.

“That’s weird,” Enjolras says slowly, “Didn’t they leave a few hours before us?”

Grantaire hums in agreement, hoisting his bag higher up on his shoulder. “Let’s check in, and then we can find out what’s happened to them.”

Their hotel room is huge, with a small balcony looking over the valley, and a jacuzzi of all things. This is what Enjolras gets for trusting Courfeyrac with organising the hotel.

He throws his overnight bag on their bed, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

“I told him not to go overboard,” he mutters grumpily to Grantaire, who seems more interested in messing with the jacuzzi settings than listening to him huff. Which Enjolras figures is understandable.

Courfeyrac picks up on the second ring. “Hey Enj, what’s up?”

“Hey,” Enjolras looks around the room warily, as though he’s expecting their friends to burst out of the wardrobes or from behind the curtains. “Grantaire and I are at the hotel now, we couldn’t see anyone else. Are you guys on your way?”

“Oh, we’re not coming,” Courfeyrac says simply.

Enjolras frowns. “Huh?”

“Yeah, we’re not coming,” Courfeyrac repeats, and Enjolras can practically hear the grin in his voice. “You mentioned that you and R haven’t had a lot of downtime recently. And as hilarious as it was, I really don’t think I could handle another weekend like Vegas. I am far too old and sensible for that now. So I talked to everyone, and we pooled the money we would have spent on a bachelor party so you two could spend some time together, get some rest and relaxation before the wedding. Don’t say I don’t do anything nice for you.”

Enjolras can feel a wide grin stretching across his face.

"Best best man ever." He tells Courfeyrac solemnly, and Courfeyrac laughs loudly.

"And don't you fukin' forget it," he says. "Have a good weekend, you two."

When Enjolras hangs up, Grantaire is looking at him with a bemused expression, one eyebrow raised. Enjolras walks over to him, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth, then his jaw, then his lips.

“It’s just the two of us,” he says, wrapping his arms around Grantaire’s waist. “No one else is coming.” He slips his hands under Grantaire’s shirt, running them slowly up the broad expanse of back. “What do you want to do first?”

“Mm,” Grantaire brings a hand up to cradle his jaw, leaning in so their lips are nearly touching. “I can think of a few things.”

#answered #my writing #this one is kind of rushed because i fucked up the posting #but u know what they're cute anyway #fluff

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mxbitters · 3 years

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... well shit i’m a full adult with a job i should probably oh idk cONSIDER SAVING UP MONEY FOR TOP SURGERY wow ok hmm

#what a revelation! that these fake numbers i never get to hold in my hands actually count for something!!! fuck!!!!#i've never actually like put anything into my savings i guess i could start depositing stuff there......#i think i'm gonna at least be partially on the meal plan and i'm gonna have roommates so groceries won't be ENTIRELY on me so..#ok. ok. how much am i even making at my town's library. fuck. preferably above 12 n hour uhhhhhh #an*#hm. oooooooooook. if i get the right therapist who understands that Nonbinary People Exist And Aren't Immediately Going On T #hmmmmmmmmm. with those conditions i think it'd be covered but again only partially so like. still would need to save up. i don't even kno #know* what the ballpark for that would even be though like i've read something like $10k on the higher end but for me..........???#...............maybe less??? probably less. i hope yes because yeah.#fuck. i mean i need to find a therapist to get diagnosed with adhd so like...#we could at least talk about that??????#like maybe it's not realistic but ideally i would really like to get top surgery before i graduate college #would certain family members riot??? abso-fucking-lutely because some of them absolutely think it's a phase but honestly i don't care #like do they know the pain of not feeling safe in the slightest in regard to swimming so just not swimming for YEARS???#do they know how much it sucks to constantly slump over or wear layers or something and never wear what they really wanna wear #out of fear of being sexualized or their identity not being taken seriously????#like damn maybe i was insecure about it at first but now i'm like. 100%. i need this for myself and i need it sooner rather than later.#like. i want my life back dammit #maybe a few years down the line i'll have an official decision abt hormones etc. but right now i just want to pursue this thing i've been #honestly needing for so long.#.. and hey!! ebenezer would make a great recovery buddy i bet :)#so yknow. everybody start picking out commemorative floral top surgery button ups #whenever i do get top surgery i'm probably gonna like give away the three binders i have even though i can't guarantee the official size of #one of them uhhhhh. i think it's a large?? xl??#it's a bit big on me so maybe xl..idk :')#the other two are a medium and a large in gc2b terms but like obviously this would be happening like years from now lmao so they'd p be #more stretched out than originally which is fair tbh #anyway i'm gonna put on my gay lil jacket and go get italian ice and maybe real food outside

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 years

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Trans followers, if you’re up for it, I’d like your input (you can message me privately or even anonymously if you wish).

So obviously I’m very cool and sexy and big brained and that’s why I write werewolf erotica, anyway I realised this morning that I haven’t tried writing a trans werewolf character. Or, more accurately and importantly: each book contains one new romance (plus an ongoing established one in the background that began in the first book). The new one each time is designed to explore a different dynamic - sometimes to challenge the existing relationship standards in this fucking genre (because my god these people think really-quite-horrific abuse is sexy), but sometimes to explore just, you know, another type of love, like a poly or ace relationship or what have you. And I realised that I have not yet done this with a trans werewolf.

This opens up two very big questions though, which I have just spent a really fun half hour talking over with a trans friend of mine, but I don’t want her to have to speak for all trans people on the subject. So I’m asking for input here.

I recognise that some people of course won’t agree on these - what’s invalidating for one is validating for another, and all that. But I do want to make sure that, whichever way I end up going with this, it’s based on the input and opinions of trans folks who approved and not solely what my well-intentioned but naive cis ass thought sounded nice. So! Questions under the cut, because I value your dashboards.

Okay, so question one: The Mate Bond.

These are a soulmate trope, and part of that is that a werewolf’s mate is always the most attractive person they’ve ever seen, right. So, how does that work if you are meeting your mate pre-transition?

Now, my current plan, after discussion this morning, is to say the attraction is there both before and after the transition. BUT, before it, it’s like... “You’re super hot but it feels like something is slightly missing in some way.” And then after transition it’s “Holy shit yeah there you are.” Attractive both sides, but post-transition, they’re actually themselves, you know? It feels right, not just to the trans person but also their mate. (Plus they’re happier, which is usually very attractive in its own right.)

However, my friend is grey-romantic, so she said of this question in particular I should probably check with others.

Moving on to question two: The Transition.

Okay, right, so, this is very literally a transformative species. They can turn into bloody wolves and back.

That means reforming their entire bodies, growing and losing whole appendages (tails), rearranging organs, changing hormones. It means they physically lose and regrow their secondary sex characteristics all the time, since body hair is constantly in flux, fat deposits move, breasts are lost and regrown; it also means their entire genital structures are changed (as anyone who reads A/B/O can attest). Like, the basis for physical change is very much there.

On top of that, this is a species with a bit of a weak psychic field. They always look hot - I’ve already explained that as, given that they’re a supernatural race, they evolve over time to fit the beauty norms of the day to give them a predatory edge, that sort of thing. Plus... for example, if a woman with long hair shifts, she gets it back once she shifts human again, right? She doesn’t shift back to a pixie cut. Her morphic field knows, somehow, what she should look like in human shape, and I figure that’s based on her subconscious to a degree, at least. So physical adaptation to an ideal is also there, as a base.

And finally, werewolves are born as wolf pups, shift into human toddlers after a couple of days, and then stay human until “First Shift” at eighteen. When they get this shift, they get their wolf and can now transform at will; they also get their Gift (one (1) small superpower, as a treat); and they can now form a mate bond, and so will recognise their mate. Full fledging into adulthood, basically.

So, if we are literally only looking at the existing lore that I have already established... I can’t see any narrative reason why a trans werewolf, on reaching eighteen and gaining their wolf, wouldn’t naturally and automatically transition over the course of their first-however-many shifts. From a sci-fi/fantasy perspective, that fits perfectly into the world building that’s there.

However, werewolves do not actually exist and this world is fictional and will be whatever I tell it to be, whereas actual trans humans who might read this are real. So: does this sound okay?

My friend’s response to this one was “IDK that seems fine to me. Actually that sounds really nice.” But I’d like to run that by a few more people because I am cis and outside my wheelhouse.

(And if it sounds good, how many shifts should that take? Instant, just one and done, to reflect that this is who you were inside all along? Or gradual, over twenty or more, so they have an actual transition period that a reader gets to see? Or somewhere in between?)

Anyway thank you all! Feel no obligation to respond if you don’t want to. As I say, the likelihood is that I won’t get 100% agreement because YMMV (what I want out of a feminist novel is often different from what friends of mine want to see for example; it happens), but whichever path I end up going down is going to be feedback-based.

I should probably also mention that, so far, there has been zero homophobia in any of these. So, my very strong instinct is to not include any intentional transphobia. It would be a love story that features a character who happens to be trans, not a love story about being trans. Apologies if that’s not your jam, but I would certainly want to defer to those with first hand experience writing those stories. These are just very silly books about werewolves.

#blood and silver #writing #trans issues

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randomperson351 · 3 years

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You’re dying! - Venom

Summary: You have your period, Venom thinks you’re dying. Comfort ensues.

Note: This was requested by Anon, but also a little self indulgent.

Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and ageless blogs get blocked.

Masterlist

Three knocks rung out through your apartment like a fire alarm blaring in your ear drums. Fuck.

Cramps had woken you at 2am and it took a good three hours before they subsided, another two for you to get to sleep. It was around 12 in the afternoon when the knocks came and you were still in bed resting, but your stomach was growling and ideally you needed another wee but you'd just got comfortable.

The three knocks came again but harder, considerably harder.

"Who is it?" You shouted through to see if it was worth getting out of bed.

"Mrs Chen." Odd, she's never come round before and you were certain she wouldn't know where you live. You sighed, shit.

Slowly, on Bambi legs, you hobbled to the front door and opened it, indeed finding Mrs Chen on the other side with pale eyes instead of her brown ones. I wonder who this could be.

"Hello Venom, what do you want?"

"It is time for your cycle, no? You should have started your menstration yesterday.” He spoke but through Mrs Chen.

“How-how do you know that?” You asked, slightly disturbed that an alien knows the exact days each month your period starts.

“I synced up with you the last time you were my host so I knew when to come, your tiny form needs protection and comfort during this time.”

“Uhh, okay?”

Venom globbed out from Mrs Chen and transferred into you, he did it slowly and carefully as to not increase the bout of nausea you were already feeling. Mrs Chen looked disoriented as she came out of a Venom induced haze, but he had already closed your door and carried you to the bathroom before you could explain.

“Venom!”

What? Mrs Chen does not need me to get home, you do however. Now do your business, I’ll look away and get you some food.

Oh really? You thought unbelievingly. Eventually you managed to sit down enough to get to the toilet seat through the ache in your thighs, did your business, and were cleaning up when Venom came back to you.

“Holy shit! Come on nibbles get dressed, we need to get you to the hospital, you’ll bleed out soon-”

“Venom, there’s nothing to worry about. This is normal for me, okay? It’s just my period, I won’t bleed out and I don’t need to go to the hospital.” You explained calmly as you washed your hands. You were now considerably more comfortable from Venom uncramping your uterus and somehow massaging the aches from inside.

You’re okay?

“I’m fine.”

We’re not dying?

“We’re not dying. Not today at least.”

Well you can’t possibly go to work later, you’re more vulnerable than you normally are. Like a glass doll in a bullring.

“Oh yeah? You gonna be my matador?”

Obviously. Come, you are to do nothing, understand?

He hauled you off the ground using some of his tendrils and carried you all the way to your couch, depositing you led down and burrito wrapping you in blankets.

He also brought over a plate of your favourite food and used his hands to feed you.

“Open up, tiny one.”

“Venom I’m led down, I need to sit up to eat.”

He propped you up and vine wrapped tentacles of himself around the blankets so they wouldn’t fall as he fed you and turned the TV on to something you liked.

“Come on my sweet human, just a few more bites.”

“But I’m full V, I can’t eat any more.”

“Okay, we’ll save that for later.”

He placed the plate onto the coffee table and covered your skin with himself as he had done many times before, creating a hand to pat and rub your belly. Your squishy belly. Your cute little pudge that showed how well you ate for them, making him so proud of you during this time.

Sleep nibbles, I will wake you later.

“But if I sleep now I won’t sleep later and then I’ll be tired for work.” You yawned, unwillingly proving his point.

You aren’t going.

“But-”

I will handle it. You have done well today, my little Venom. Have a rest, I will be here when you wake up.

You started tearing up at how sweet and soft he was being, not really having anyone to look after you before. But then you started thinking about work and how angry your boss would be if you took another sick day and the tears fell, hiccups sounded and panic ensued.

Immediately Venom’s head came round from your shoulder and stared at you in worry, thinking what could’ve upset you.

“I have to go into work, I can’t have another day off!”

NO! He treats you unfairly and you always work over. I will call in for you and eat his brain if he has a problem with it. Okay?

“Okay.” You cried, sniffling and squeaking as you tried to stop the flow of tears.

Venom placed his head on your chest just under your neck and gave himself an upper body so that you had something to cling to. The part of him that was wrapped around you tightened to squeeze you close to him.

When the tears ended you didn’t want to let go (Venom didn’t want you to either) so he led you back down and sunk himself beneath the blankets so that he was completely up against you, almost turning himself into a weighted blanket.

“I’m here, my little nibble. I will always be here for you, for us. Because we, are Venom.”

#randomperson351 #venom #venom let there be carnage #period comfort #venom x female reader #venom comfort fic #venom period comfort #soft venom x reader #brief mrs chen #do not repost

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ssplague · 3 years

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Chapter Two

A rough start we get off too

Series Masterlist

Katsuki B. X Reader

Rated M

⚠️Warnings: SMUT, improper use/depiction of certain kinks, abusive, manipulative, toxic behavior, unreal ideals of sex, use of daddy, ddlg themes, hard Dom, etc.

Let the SMUT commence

The way each pair of lips fit so perfectly together was absolutely enthralling: Passion was raw, ferocity was made so obviously evident from the growl he emitted at each attempt you made at sucking his tounge into your mouth. Only separating to take in a few large gulps of much needed oxygen, before diving back in to repeat the process over again.

“Please….P-Pleaseee…Kat..Suki…I-“ he presses a finger to your lips. That brief period of oxygen deprivation seemed to of induced a delirium of sorts. Assessing your thoughts has become similar to sifting through wet sand; Try as you might, you just can’t seem to comprehend what exactly you’d been attempting to beg him for in the first place. This look of empty headed confusion is also something Bakugou commits to memory, a first glimpse of his dumb little girl. He surveys you with bemused interest, looking as composed as ever.

“Down that bad for me hah? All I did was kiss ya a little and you’re already falling to pieces on me” the finger on your lips slides down to tilt your chin up, while he dips his head down to whisper in your ear. “Cant even imagine what kinda mess you’ll become once I finally split cha open with this big cock, such a stupid little girl”.

You suck in a deep shuddering breath as your legs suddenly give out beneath you, leaving you helplessly sliding down the wall. Bakugou laughs in such a condescending baritone as he effortlessly picks you up and deposits you on his bed. Picking his chair back up, he moves it beside the bed to take a seat in front of you.

“Listen real close to what I’m about to tell ya cause its important, open those fuckin’ ears princess cause if I end up havin’ to constantly keep repeatin’ myself…” he leaves the implicated threat hanging in the air between you two. Swallowing what remains of your now virtually non existent pride: You sit up straight and lean forward slightly, making sure to hold eye contact while he spoke. As the one sided conversation progresses and you inevitably begin to feel the need to either scoff or mouth off, you lightly bite your tounge. When the need to roll your eyes seems irresistible you make sure to blink a few times.

Bakugou and his ego always seem to have a way of destroying any sort of illusion that he is anything other than a self-righteous narcissist. Well, now he’s YOUR self-righteous narcissist…CORRECTION; You cant think like that anymore….from now on he’s….daddy.

The thought accompanies a brief pang in your metaphorical gut, is it regret? Maybe guilt? You aren’t sure.

“-Last ones, your still paying attention right princess?”.

Hearing his question has your eyes immediately snapping back into focus. You take in the handsome (but grumpy) face in front of you, nervously wondering when exactly he’d invaded your personal space.

“Y-Yes daddy, I’m listening to you” you stutter slightly, now noticing he’s actually kneeling on the mattress with you.

“So every day I expect you to do your absolute best” now with each statement he leans further into you, “You’re always going to remember how much daddy cares about you”. He presses a large hand against your chest, forcing your back down against the pillows behind you. “Realize that daddy always knows what’s best for you” both hands now rest on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

“You’ll always know that you can rely on daddy, and will trust him one hundred percent of the time”.

The intensity of his crimson stare has your face burning up, and heart rapidly pounding in your chest. It’s now taking a serious amount of conscious effort to keep your eyes locked with his. “Any questions? Comments?…..concerns?” he puts an emphasis on that last word, wolffish grin firmly in place.

Shaking your head apparently wasn’t a good enough answer because its followed with a stern; “Use your words princess, you either say: Yes daddy or No daddy….understood?”.

“I understand daddy….I’ll follow your rules daddy” you reply, embarrassment evident at having to repeat the unfamiliar word.

“You sure? It’s not like you to have absolutely nothing to say” he’s testing you, you’ll play into it this time.

“Well if you insist…..I do have a question, just one” at this his eyes instantly narrow and you could have sworn you’d seen a few stray sparks emit from his palms.

“Would it be too much to ask daddy if he wouldn’t mind kissing me again?”

🌆

Euphie checks her phone for the eigth time since she’d last texted you over forty-five minutes ago. Why weren’t you responding? Maybe she really had pushed you too far this time….A large hand comes to rest over her much smaller one, at this she finally sets her phone facedown on the table with a sigh.

“She wont stay angry with you forever, her and Bakubro might be having such a good time together that she’s forgotten all about her phone” Kirishima tries his best to reassure with his usual smile. The sudden wide eyed, dead pan stare he gets in return whipes that smile from his now reddening face. He’s realized far too late at what his words seem to of implied.

“I didn’t mean it like that! Really! I promise I didn’t! M’sorry”. Seeing the red head this flustered is so adorable, his companion cant help but giggle.

“I know Eji, dont worry about it”.

Entrusting your care to Bakugou was fine: He cares about you almost as much as she herself does. If she wasn’t certain how genuine the boy’s feelings toward you were, none of this would ever have happened.

Yeah, everything is going to be just fine….You’ll thank her one day.

💥

Bakugou’s crimson gaze is way too intense while roaming over the female laying down on his bed. Having her completely bare, and spread out before him is an accomplishment he shamelessly contragulates himself for. She’s getting self conscious now: Delicate hands come up to cover her chest, and plush thighs press together in an attempt to hide the drooling mess kept between them. It’s all or naught though as her legs are suddenly wrenched apart, and each wrist is now pinned above her head, held in just a single one of his hands.

“Nu-uh princess, no hiding….keep those legs open…wanna see all of you” condescending words only seem to widen his feral grin.

Seeing his cock now freed from its previously strained confinements as its looms above you, standing tall, has your leaky little hole twitching. The smooth inner walls inside repeatedly clenching in anticipation. Bakugou trails a finger from clit to slit as he hums in approval.

“What’s this hah? Such a fuckin’ mess your makin’ down here”

“S-Sorry daddy…I cant help it…Just want you so bad…dont wanna wait any longer…Please dont make me wait more” a soft roll of your hips accompanies your pleading whines. Your continuous begging for his cock has that monster stirring in him again, he has to forcibly push the dark thoughts away before addressing you again.

“If I dont prep you then-“ you interrupt him.

“It’s fine! I can take it, please just take me…” he notices your moment of hesitation before you lock eyes with him while adding “make it hurt”.

You’re just so fucking bold!

Trying to make demands, disguised as requests! Its so cute he cant help but caress your cheek before bestowing upon you the last gentle kiss you’ll get until he’s throughly DESTROYED you for anyone else.

“Dont ever fucking tell me what to do again” he growls before slamming his hips forward.

He’s buried balls deep inside you: Your initial gasp at the sudden intrusion, now morphs into a silent scream that has a you arching up off the mattress.

“Got that you greedy little slut? See what happens?” He taunts through gritted teeth.

Your cunt squeezing and spasming around his cock feels incredible, to the point he has to busy himself with sucking harshly on your neck to keep from releasing desperate whimpers of his own.

“I can take it…please move….m’sorry daddy…please don’ be mad a’me….”

“M’not mad at you baby….s’okay” He manages to reassure you through his clenched jaw. He finally starts to move inside of you, desperately trying so hard to take it easy on you. All precedent falls apart when your legs wrap around his waist, now he’s digging you out.

“Y’okay?” He rasps while continuously ravaging your tight cunt.

“M-mm-more than okay” you stutter.

“Taking my cock so well baby girl….Fucking hell!” His lewd compliment causing your insides to involuntarily clench.

“Deeper! Deeper!” You plead.

Katsuki thought you’d preferred his shallow thrusts, but if you really wanted your guts rearranged he’d be pleased to make it happen. He grabs one of your legs, placing it up on his broad shoulder, while the other remains curled around his hip. Straightening up he smirks down at you, before delivering a harsh slap to your clit. Now beginning to rapidly piston his hips while taunting you: “What did I tell you earlier hah? Answer me dammit!”.

His hot hand comes down on your inner thigh and you cry out: “N-Not supposed t-to tell y-you what to d-do!”. It shouldn’t be possible for you to be squeezing him even tighter, but somehow you do. That can mean only one thing… “Gonna cum aren’t you princess? I can feel ya choking the life outta my cock”.

A pathetic whine accompanies your vigorous head nods and he growls in response: “You.better.fucking.not” a thrust accompanying each word, “Y’dont fuckin’ listen, shouldn’t let ya cum at all with how you keep misbehavin’, better start fuckin’ beggin”.

Horrified at the thought, you fight through the fog permeating your brain and force movement out of your lolling tounge.

“P-please daddy, I’ll b-be good from now on if y-you’ll just let me c-cum! Y-you’re just making me feel so good daddy, no one’s ever made me feel this i-incredible before” your panting breaths making it too difficult to continue speaking. Even if he doesn’t believe it, your words are entirely true, this is the first time you can ever recall feeling like this during sex. A foreign sensation is making its way into your gut, your limbs are moving of their own accord, you cant think straight when you manage to speak next: “Its too much! Too big, Too deep, Too intense! I c-cant take anymore please make it stop!”.

“Stop? Oh fuck no princess, after all this lip you’ve been giving me, you think I’m gonna let you tap out like a little bitch? Think again” his thumb begins to rub harsh circles against your clit. “We’re not stopping until you cream all over my cock like a nasty girl like you is supposed to, then you’re gonna do it again when I blow my load inside this tight fucking cunt and you’ll scream my name while I fucking do it because this pussy is all mine! Got all that you fucking whore?”.

“Yes daddy” you whimper, face screwed up in tight concentration as he finally pushes you over the edge. Your eyes fly open as you blindly search for his hand, gripping it tightly in attempts to anchor yourself in reality as a sudden rush of dopamine floods your brain. White hot pleasure seemingly overwhelming every single nerve in your body, making your legs shiver as you faintly hear yourself calling out his name repeatedly. Katsuki is the only thing you know in this strange foreign place: This comforting warmth suddenly invades your tummy, continuously being pumped inside you while you moan at the newfound sensation.

A pair of strong arms wind themselves around you, pulling you closer, making you feel safe, at ease, loved?

“Come…back…..come back to me” he’s calling for you. Your soul had to of vacated your body; You feel Weightless, you’re floating, “Daddy?”. Suddenly you start sinking, and without warning your body jolts, “Katsuki?!”.

“M’right here princess, daddy’s got you….Disappeared on me for a lil while” his familiar voice is grounding. His fingers card gently through your hair, and for the very first time you’re seeing a “Soft” side to this so easily angered man. Sighing contentedly you snuggle into his chest, letting his caramel scented sweat overwhelm your senses.

“I really like this”

“Hah?! That’s all you have to say?!”

Ah there he goes, moment ruined, illusion shattered.

“I’m sorry. But I’m not entirely coherent just yet…you uh…you kinda did a number on me there” you mutter sheepishly, making an attempt to escape his embrace. Its immediately thwarted, and your pulled right back against his chest. “Ah fuck…knew I shoulda just made you wait and prepped you properly….Sorry about that, guess I just got caught up in everything”. Surely hell has frozen over: Katsuki Bakugou just not only admitted a possible wrong doing, but APOLGIZED for it as well!

“Ive wanted to do this with you for so long: Fuck you, hold you, be with you, and I fucked it up! Just like I always seem to fucking do, I-“

“Daddy” your voice effectively silences his self-depreciating rant. His hand begins to gently run up and down your back as he mumbles a “Yes princess?”.

You lean back slightly, tilting your head up so those cute doe eyes can stare up into his, the smile your wearing makes his chest tighten.

“M’not hurt, sore but not damaged….I wasn’t referring to my body, I meant you did a number on my mind…Besides I asked for it remember? I’ve wanted this for a long time too, so I got impatient…Please dont berate yourself, lets just enjoy this moment as the first of many now…Kay?”.

That’s right, you’re his now; Along with the opportunity to care for and make sure to correct you…he’ll be able to do this with you again. You had given yourself to him after all, so he can have you as many times as he wants, whenever he wants! He’s far too occupied with his lewd thoughts to care about the foreboding darkness thats begun to emerge from its confines within his skull.

You don’t remember falling asleep but Katsuki gently prods you awake: “Baby…wake up, Its dinner time…I made food for us…c’mon princess you need to eat”.

You whine, attempting to burrow further beneath the blankets, “Not hungryyyy...wanna sleep more!”.

“Dont make daddy ask you again, you wont like what happens”.

Not interested in ruining such a wonderful night, you begrudgingly sit up. Noticing he’s seated at his desk, with a large steaming bowl set infront of him. You slide out of bed, standing up and realizing you’re naked, but strangely not embarrassed by it.

“Here” he tosses you a shirt, “Now c’mere, hurry up before it gets cold!”. Pulling his shirt over your head as you pad over to him and take a seat on his lap. Noticing the single spoon and bowl has you looking at him with genuine curiosity. “Since you like actin like a damn baby so much, figured I’d continue treatin’ you like one” his words make you grin sheepishly again, and you hold out your hand expectantly waiting for him to hand you the spoon….he doesn’t.

Taking an impressive spoonful of the steaming food he then proceeds to blow on it before bringing it up to your lips.

“Say ahh, brat”.

“Wha-?”

Taking advantage of the opportunity, he shoves the spoon into your open mouth. Of course it tastes amazing, but he doesn’t plan on keeping this up right? WRONG!

Repeating the pattern of giving you a bite and then taking one himself.

“I can feed myself y’know…” you mutter growing increasingly flustered at the insulting action but more so the fact that its making you feel….excited?

“I dont think you can princess….I always hear Euphie bitchin at ya for skipping breakfast or to hurry up and come eat dinner” pausing to feed himself, then repositioning the now loaded spoon back infront of you before continuing.

“That shit ends today, gonna teach ya how important it is to take care of yourself, and if you wont? Then I guess daddy will have to do it for ya”.

You’re squirming in his lap by the time you accept the last bite,swallowing thickly before making an attempt at vaulting off his lap. Large hands immediately snag you around the middle before your feet even touch the ground.

“No, No, thats not how we do things around here, where the fuck are your manners?” he slips a hand between your clenched thighs to move them apart, and then brings a slap down to the inside of each. You dont even know why he’d done that and the shock is evident on your face. “You like when I baby ya, dont lie to me LITTLE girl”.

“No I-“

“What’s this then?” he quickly interupts while holding up the palm he’d previously slapped you with. Glimmering in the low light is your sticky arousal coating his palm.

“Sorry” your voice is barely audible as you hang your head in shame.

“Mhm sure you are…Here I am being a good care taker to you and what did you do? Sat there thinking all kinds of nasty things while I spoon feed you, you really are a fuckin depraved slut aren’t you princess?”

You bite your lip as your eyes start to water,still refusing to look up and far too embarrassed to respond. A finger beneath your chin forces your head up and his breath hitches when he notices tears getting ready to fall. A malicious smile now turns his lips upward as he cups your cheek, “Look at that…shes about to start crying and all because of what? Cuz you just exposed yourself for being the depraved little slut you are?”.

“NO! No im not I-“.

“You are” his grip tightens painfully on your jaw, pulling your face forward so its now just an inch away from his own, “And I fuckin’ love it”. Then he’s surging forward pressing his lips against yours; Forcing his tongue into your mouth, hand coming around to grip the back of your head. Your lungs are on fire while his hand slips under your shirt to harshly grope at your chest. Clawing his forearms is finally enough to get his attention and he reluctantly pulls away. You’ve just barely began catching your breath when he suddenly stands up, keeping a firm grip on your ass to carry you, before dropping you onto the bed.

“Take that off and-“

*knock knock knock*

The sudden knocking followed abruptly by Kirishima’s muffled shouting, startles both you and Katsuki, and the rattling door knob has you immediately springing into action.

“Hey we brought back desert to share with you guys! So just meet us at my room whenever you feel like it, Euphie’s changing her clothes and then she’ll be there too, we’re gonna watch a movie if you two wanna join us!”.

He must have heard Bakugou’s standard non-committal grunt in response, because you hear his retreating footsteps trail off down the hall.

Grabbing your skirt out from underneath the bed, you stand back up.

Just as you’d gotten to your feet your immediately pushed face first onto the mattress. A sweaty hand takes hold of your hip in a bruising grip, while the other delivers a sharp pinch to your ass cheek. Yelping in response to the sudden harsh yank of your hair that proceeds a whisper of:

“You didn’t really think I would let you off that easy did you? Your fuckin’ cake can wait brat, we’re done when I fuckin say we are, got it?”.

✨

A/N: I hope this chapter was to everyone’s liking, I’m actually kind of nervous to post it but 🤷🏼‍♀️ Chapter 3 has a fair amount of smut in it as well so look forward to that. I’m hoping to get another one shot up for “A man of his word” this week, if you like extreme Yandere Bakugou check that out. I have one penned but it needs to be typed up.

#bakugou katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #daddy bakugou #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #bnha smut #katsuki bakugo #Katsuki bakugou #dom bakugou

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markleesthighs · 3 years

Text

dangerous woman

pairing: idol!mark x richceo!y/n (fem)

genre: strangers to lovers!au, fluff, suggestive to smut

song: dangerous woman by SuperM (Mark’s pov) or Ariana Grande (y/n’s pov)

a/n: mark’s birthday special! Mentions of drinking, rich partying, some dom!y/n and sub!mark (suggestive and smut), also some mommy!kink (please be safe!!)

SuperM was in the US again, for another round of their concerts across the nation. You were a backer behind SuperM, loving their music and overall aesthetic. You’ve never met them since you deposited your money overseas but it would be a simple hello and thank you from them via a card and that would be it. You heard from someone that Mark’s birthday was coming up, and you wanted to give SuperM a proper place to celebrate his birthday. You decided to let SuperM stay and party at one of your mansions for the weekend. Luckily they weren’t performing the day of or day after Mark’s birthday, so it was a perfect opportunity.

You reached out to their managing staff and since you were one of the top backers for them, they humbly agreed. You arranged transportation, food, decorations, drinks, and everything the boys needed for their party celebration. You arrived at their hotel in style in your white Lamborghini, accompanied by your body guards who were driving other patrolling cars, ensuring your safety. One of them opened the door of the car for you and holding your hand. You were dressed in a black Armani pantsuit, black Louboutin heels, a black Louis Vuitton clutch, and Prada sunglasses. You were a showstopper, getting honks from cars in the streets to poor bellhop looking at you in fear.

You entered the hotel to find the manager of the hotel to greet you.

“Miss y/n.” The manager spoke as she bowed.

“Hello.”

“They are on the 45th floor in the penthouse suite.”

“Thank you.”

You and your bodyguards promptly went to the elevator up to the 45th floor and walked to their suite. You ringed the doorbell and knocked on the door twice. You heard a manger franticly curse in Korean before opening the door to greet you. You and your bodyguards bowed as you greeted him in Korean, asking him where SuperM was and if they were ready to depart. He apologized saying they were still packing but that you could still come inside. Their manager was yelling in Korean about how you had arrived and they had to hurry up. You walked inside and your bodyguards helped you remove your shoes as you walked into the living room area.

You removed your sunglasses as you analyzed the room. It wasn’t super messy, just a few snacks and drinks all over the place. You picked up an empty Shin ramen cup, you smiled, these were always yummy to eat after a flight. You wondered if there was any Shin ramen laying around so you got up and found some packs in the kitchen. A member smelled the ramen and walked into the kitchen.

“Hyung? Are you cooking ramen? Can I have-”

He saw you and looked at you up and down.

“Some. “

You turned to look at him, he looked so cute. His hair was still a mess, had his glasses on and a clean shaven face.

“Wait...y-you’re...y/n! I-I’m so sorry for being informal! I-I’m M-mark from SuperM!”

He bowed down all the way down on his knees apologizing dozens of times. You turned off the stove and walked over to him to lift his chin up. Mark smelled your Valentino Donna perfume and it was intoxicating to him. You smelled and looked amazing. Your eyes met Mark’s as he innocently gazed at you, you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes.

“I know who you are cutie.” You giggled.

Mark got up after mumbling an “o-oh yeah, haha” and scratched the back of his neck. Mark kept staring at you, he had never seen anyone like you, you somehow looked like his ideal type, yet he’d never met you. Mark’s manager noticed him staring at you before he yelled at Mark to go back to his room and continue changing before he embarrasses himself in front of you. Mark apologized as he shyly left in his t shirt and pajama pants. You continued to make your ramen and ate some while you looked on your phone. You could hear the mumbling of the other members talk about you in Korean.

“Hyung, she’s really pretty.”

“I know, I wonder how old she is.”

“You never ask a woman how old she is!”

“I would kill to date a woman like her.”

“She probably had a boyfriend or even a husband!”

You sat in the living room as each member walked out one by one greeting you and getting to know you. Mark was the last one to arrive and sheepishly apologized before joining his members in the living room. You noticed how almost all the members wore designer clothing (which you complemented them on) except Mark. He wore a simple t-shirt, jeans, baseball hat, and a Jansport backpack. You hadn’t seen one of those backpacks since elementary school. He looked simplistic yet cute, you liked it.

“So, who’s the lucky birthday boy?”

All the members turned and gestured to Mark pinching his cheeks and making goo goo noises towards Mark because he was the youngest of the group.

“Oh, so how old are you turning?”

“2-22 in America but 2-23 in Korean age.”

“Oh! I just turned 21 a couple months ago! How interesting. So I guess you’re my Oppa~”

Mark’s face instantly blushed looking away from you while everyone else laughed. You escorted and assigned the guys their cars and which bodyguard they’d be accompanied by. However, everyone was confused that Mark didn’t get assigned a car, which led to you announcing that Mark would be driving with you since he was the birthday boy. Everyone teased Mark with an “Ooh” or an “Ahh” and Kai blurted out in Korean “Don’t have too much fun!” as him, Ten, and Lucas left in their car. A bodyguard took Mark’s luggage and put it in one of the other cars while he gestured Mark to follow you. A bodyguard opened the car doors for you on the driver’s side and Mark on the passenger side. Mark stayed silent when you turned on the car as you prepared to leave.

“Why so quiet birthday boy? Never been in a Lambo before?”

“Y-yeah, s-sorry that I’m being really awkward.”

“It’s alright, you ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

You and the other cars promptly left the hotel, you could see Mark’s shocked face hearing the engine and watching everyone in the streets look at you and Mark in the car. Mark looked shy and reserved keeping his hands in his lap and trying to not stare at you too much. At a stoplight you caught Mark staring at you so you turned to scare him a bit.

“You like what you see baby?”

Mark’s ears turned red and he was panicking in the passenger seat. Mark enjoyed everything about you, your smell, look, and confidence. But you were a backer, a business partner, he shouldn’t be flirting with you. But you were so intoxicating and he wanted a little taste. Mark leaned closer to you almost brushing against your lips.

“Maybe I do.”

Mark looked at you up and down which turned you on a bit. Mark bit his lip as you were about to kiss him, he turned away.

“The light is green.”

“Fuck you.”

You pulled away and stepped on the gas making Mark fall back into his seat. He could see the annoyed look in your face. He liked it, it made you look cute. You sped your way to your mansion out of frustration and anger, no man has ever left you hanging like that. You stepped out of the car and slammed the door. Your bodyguards, Mark, and the other members had no time to catch up to you or ask you what was wrong. Mark now felt bad, he didn’t want to play with your heart, especially when he has only known you for three hours. Mark took his luggage as he shyly went inside with the other members.

They were stunned by the mansion, it was shiny like a new toy to all the members. They began to hoot and holler running all over the place, looking at your giant pool, arcade room, and private spa and sauna. While they were running around wondering where they will choose to sleep, Mark wanted to find you. He kindly asked one of the body guards if they knew where your room was and they guided him into your room.

Mark knocked on your door but there was no response so he slowly opened the door to find you no where in sight. He was confused yet shocked by the volume and luxury of your room. It was huge and simplistic yet it was also refined. Everything was perfectly clean he could smell your perfume all over your room mixed with the smell of your clean sheets. He heard some rummaging from another part of your room which was your closet. There was a crack in the door so Mark slowly approached to take a little peep to see how you were doing.

He saw you looking around your giant Barbie-sized closet in your cute fuzzy bathrobe and bunny slippers. He noticed you pulling out a few party dresses before you settled on wearing a Versace dress with a pair of matching sandals to match. Mark watched you remove your robe to reveal your matching black lace undergarments and your almost naked body. Mark needed to look away but he couldn’t watching your hips, dips, curves and waist was making his mouth water. He watched as you put on your dress but struggled to zip it up all the way.

Mark was about to knock on the door and pretend he wasn’t looking before you caught his adorable puppy eyes looking at you through the reflection in your full length three paneled mirror. He looked like a puppy waiting patiently for his owner to come out, you couldn’t help but pout.

“You can come out Mark.”

Mark was in so much shock that he accidentally bumped into your door falling over onto the cold marble floor. He got up and brushed off himself and kept apologizing for creeping up on you. As you approached him his eyes kept looking down in shame.

“I-I am s-so sorry! I didn’t mean to look but-”

“But what?” You walked closer to him taking your finger and lifting his chin up.

“Y-you l-looked really nice.”

“Nice? Just nice?”

“Y-yeah..”

“You’re so cute. You should go get changed and go downstairs before your friends think you’ve gone missing.” You chuckled and tapped his nose.

After that Mark promptly left your room to go downstairs to join his members in picking their rooms. Taeyong suggested that they check out the upstairs for other rooms, Mark found himself a room that was right next to yours. It was a pretty sizable room, simple decor with a full sized bathroom and walk in closet. Mark got dressed into an all black suit with a black undershirt. Mark styled his hair with a little gel. All the other SuperM members were yelling at Mark to come down to celebrate, ordering limitless amounts of chicken, beer, soju, and watermelon, Mark’s favorite meal.

Mark walked out of his room to coincidentally see you also walk out of your room. You looked breathtaking, your hair, makeup, everything, everything was perfect. Mark gestured you to go downstairs first and watch you cascade down gracefully. As Mark walked down he could hear all his member’s screaming and clapping. They also invited some friends of Mark’s that were in the area to come help and celebrate.

Music was blasting, drinks, food, and games were being tossed around everywhere. It was a fun night. You allowed the guys to have their fun, dance around drunk while singing karaoke or playing another round of street fighter. You liked this. You loved that SuperM gave you a taste of what it’s like to be a normal adult in their 20s, living and enjoying their life to the fullest.

It made you ponder, you never wanted them to leave. They were a breath of fresh air, it gave you an excuse to take three vacation days from your busy schedule. It made you regret throwing yourself into a billion dollar business at 18. You just wanted to have fun, not sit and do paper work all day. But at the end of the day you felt it was worth it, because you would allow people and groups such as SuperM to thrive and bring some sort of happiness to others.

As you were reflecting you pulled yourself outside onto the pool deck sitting in a lounge chair looking up at the clear sky, listening to your infinity pool brush water off the clear edge. Mark noticed you were alone so he took this opportunity to get to know you, before he considers pulling some real moves.

“Hey, y/n? You alright?”

“Y-yeah! How’s the party?”

“It’s AMAZING, I can’t thank you enough for giving me a fun-filled and memorable birthday!”

“Of course.”

“Why are you outside, alone?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“What I’m going to do when you guys are gone.”

“Gone?” “Yeah I’d have to fly back to Milan soon for fashion week, I have a fittings, approvals, and adjustments of garments to do.”

“Oh.” Mark looked slightly sad.

“I just wish you could have stayed longer with me.”

You glanced up at him.

“Us! I mean- I mean us! SuperM! haha...”

Mark scratched the back of his neck again out of nervousness. You and Mark continued to talk about various things bonding over Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood and Mark getting jealous that you met Justin Bieber once. You noticed the party was dying down so you decided to ask Mark if he wanted to talk to you somewhere more private. He agreed as you secretly dragged him up into your room, hoping his members didn’t see you.

Mark’s ears felt hot, he felt himself getting excited. He stood near your bed as you closed and locked your door. You pushed Mark down on your bed crawling on top of him. Mark’s eyes were wide in shock and excitement he was waiting in anticipation before you got off of him. Mark frowned sitting up about to stand but before he could protest you started to punish him.

“Sit.” Mark obediently sat.

“Good boy” You spoke as you pet his hair.

“Now, because of that little stunt of a tease you did earlier in the car, no touching unless I say got it?” You seductively whispered into his ear.

Mark nodded.

“Good.”

You slowly zipped down your dress as you slowly removed one sleeve from the other. You slid your dress down with your arms down to your ankles giving Mark a clear view of your ass as you bent down. You kicked the dress to the side as you walked to sit on Mark’s lap. You could already feel him getting hard,

“Aww, is my baby excited?”

“Y-yes.” Mark was about to wrap his arms around you but you stopped them.

“Nuh-uh, no touching baby.”

Mark pouted.

“Good boys get rewards, are you a good boy?”

“Y-y-yes..”

“Yes who?”

“Yes...miss, y/n.”

You slapped Mark’s cheek.

“That’s mommy to you. Again.”

“Y-yes, m-mommy.”

“Good, you’re learning. You should be rewarded.”

You shove Mark down onto his back kissing him, tasting soju and watermelon off his lips. Mark was following your rhythm, kissing you back full of passion and licking your tongue every now and then. You started to move down his neck, kissing and sucking on a soft spot. Quiet hissed and moans left Mark’s mouth as you slowly kept kissing down towards his shirt. You ripped open his shirt breaking off a few buttons. You removed his shirt and suit jacket and threw it across the room.

“My baby is a little toned now isn’t he?”

Mark has a defined six pack which only turned you on more. You kissed down his chest while trailing your fingers down tracing his abs. You pulled down his suit pants tossing them to the side, leaving Mark in his black boxers. You could see his member outlined hardened inside. You palmed his member and Mark’s face shot up to look at you and met your eyes and let out a soft moan from his lips. You pulled down his boxers and saw his member hard, leaking with precum.

“Baby I didn’t expect you do be so big. Mommy is so proud of you.”

“P-please...”

“Please who?”

“P-please m-mommy touch me.”

“As you wish baby.”

You played with is member pulling it up to watch it fall back and smack against his stomach. You reached into your side drawer and pulled out some lube, pouring some on top of his member before rubbing your hands against it. You could hear Mark cursing with his moans. You went faster and slower, picking up the pace to watch Mark go out of control with higher pitched moans. When Mark was about to climax you pulled your hand away and Mark whined.

“This is what you get for teasing me in the car.”

“I-I’m sor-rry mommy! Just please!”

“Please what?”

“P-p-please let me cum!”

“Who are you talking to?”

“P-please let me cum mommy!”

As Mark spoke you picked up the pace immediately eventually sucking onto the tip of his member for added stimulation, it didn’t take long for Mark to climax into your mouth, which was a mouthful. You swallowed it and licked the rest off of his member.

“Baby, you taste amazing.”

Mark was breathless, sweating, and seeing stars. He felt like he just did the hardest workout of his life. You climbed back on top of Mark to kiss him.

“But...m-mommy?”

“Yes baby?”

“What about you? Shouldn’t you feel good too?”

“But it’s your birthday baby.”

“And I want to make you feel good, please. Let me make you feel good mommy~”

The way Mark said mommy turned you on so much you wanted to go for a second round. He really knew how to rile you up. Plus, he looked adorable begging, so you gave him a free pass.

“Alright, since it’s your birthday, you can make mommy feel good, show mommy what you’re made of baby. You are granted permission to touch me however you like baby.”

Mark immediately flipped you over and had you against your headboard with your pillows. He started to kissed you passionately while rubbing you all over your body. He would constantly ask if he was doing good and you would agree and tell him to keep going. Mark tried to remove your bra smoothly but was having some trouble. You kissed him and reassured him it was alright and removed the bra yourself. Mark kissed down your body and pulled down your underwear and he slowly pulled away your legs before licking against your wet cunt.

“Mommy, you’re so wet...”

“All for you baby, keep going...”

Mark was surprisingly doing well making you feel really good, you were muffling your moans into your pillows before Mark finds your sweet spot which makes you jolt up to push his head down further with his hair. You were a moaning mess, Mark licked and sucked hard down on all the right places causing you to climax, almost crushing Mark’s face between your thighs. Mark smirked before kissing you, now tasting your sweet cunt in his mouth.

“Can I put it in mommy?”

“Y-yes, please, put it in!”

Mark slowly entered you as you moaned out loud, Mark grabbed your face to look at him, he wanted to see your face. He slowly thrusted into you which felt painful at first but began to feel immense pleasure. Mark was also moaning harmoniously with you, kissing your forehead every couple of thrusts.

“I-I’m close!”

“Me too!”

“Fuck!”

You both kissed each other as you both climaxed. Mark removed himself from you as he cuddled you into bed under your plush sheets.

“Happy birthday baby.”

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artificialqueens · 2 years

Text

Potluck Challenge Entry (Raja/Willam) - Dartmouth420

summary: Willam only decided to host a potluck for everyone from the office because it’s the ideal situation in which to hit on her unprecedentedly attractive coworker, Raja. But the recipe for vegan canapés she found online is a dud, and no one’s being very helpful… Lesbian AU, Raja/Willam. Featuring: Alaska, Bianca, Adore, Courtney, Latrice, Jinkx and Dela. 2180 words.

A/n: V, this one is for you ;) cw: weed (weed is legal here in Canada but idk what's going on in America so take this with a grain of salt!)

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“A good idea? A potluck is a great idea!” argued Willam, looking frantically from the photo header of the online recipe on her phone to the misshapen and bizarre vegan canapés in front of her. They didn’t look like they were supposed to. “This recipe is obviously defective! They’re getting a one-star rating.”

Alaska, her roommate and official best friend, rolled her eyes, and replied dryly, “Well, I’m not gonna say I told you so… but inviting all your coworkers over for a potluck when you know for a fact you can’t cook is asking for trouble.”

Alaska, of course, had made a truly spectacular grilled vegetable bruschetta, and had somehow found the time to make fresh sourdough garlic bread, and marinara sauce on the side. God damn it.

Willam huffed, but she was completely and utterly out of time, so she just took the tray and put it on their shared kitchen table. Then she rushed to the bathroom mirror to check her reflection, because she knew where her priorities lay. She looked good, her lipstick and eyeshadow were impeccable, her cleavage was industrial-grade, and she fluffed her loose blonde hair.

There was only one reason Willam wanted to host a potluck anyway; as an excuse to get to know her hot new coworker, Raja. Raja was confident, smart, and moved with a subtle intentionality that made Willam really want to get bent over a desk and railed with a strap-on. She was tall, had beautiful high cheekbones, dark sensual eyes, elegant grey-streaked hair, and was incredibly hot. Raja made an office-appropriate blazer look like sex on wheels.

Oh, and she was really fucking funny, too.

Willam had barely been able to concentrate at the office for weeks, because Raja kept saying incredibly sexy and suggestive things to her like, do you have the wifi password? and oh yeah, I just moved here from L.A., and the coffee is pretty good with oat milk, and hey, can you pass me the stapler?

Clearly, the office element of the office romance was getting in the way. So, Willam’s plan to seduce her at the potluck held in her own home was genius, the only problem was that the canapés looked idiotic, probably tasted terrible, and she didn’t have time to fix them.

The doorbell rang. Alaska mildly walked over and reached for the door handle…

Willam whirled out of the bathroom, darted up to the door and reached around her, “Do not hog my light-!”

Alaska crossed her arms and pursed her lips, stepping back from the door. Willam laughed, leaned sexily in the doorway, and pulled the door open.

“A potluck? What kind of an idea is that, we all know you can’t cook, bitch,” said Bianca dryly, standing on the step, holding a glass casserole dish against her hip.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Willam, disappointed.

“You bet it’s me,” announced Bianca, pushing past her inside, and leaning in to kiss Alaska’s cheek, murmuring suggestively. “Hey darling, haven’t seen you in a while…”

“Stop hitting on my roommate.”

Alaska giggled and purred, “Oh hi Bianca, it has been a while hasn’t it? How’s Courtney?”

“Didn’t you hear? We broke up…”

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, I had no idea..."

Willam made a retching sound.

Bianca came into their home and deposited her beautiful, decorated lasagna, thick with cheese and meat, next to Willam’s dubious canapés. It looked amazing, and smelled delicious.

“Wow, these are… something,” said Bianca, looking up from the canapés with a shark-like smile. “I’ll give you a gold star, honey, you did try.” She noticed the bruschetta, bread and sauce set out. "Alaska, this must be yours, looks fantastic! I can't wait to, ah, get a little taste of it on my tongue."

“And I can’t wait to taste your dish either, Bianca,” said Alaska, fluttering her eyelashes at Bianca and reaching for a plate.

“No, not yet!” insisted Willam, even as her stomach growled. Everything had to be perfect for Raja, who would probably bring something unbelievably impressive. On top of being incredibly hot, she was probably also a five-star chef.

Bianca rolled her eyes.

The doorbell rang again, and more people from the office arrived in rapid succession. They were a timely bunch, apparently. Latrice, Courtney, Adore, Dela and Jinkx, everyone was here! And all of the conniving assholes she had once considered friendly coworkers had shown Willam up, each bringing something creative and impressive and homemade. Courtney in particular seemed determined to compete with her ex, having brought a vegan cashew and mushroom pasta casserole in a nearly identical glass dish to Bianca's lasagna. Even Adore brought her home-brewed beer, for fuck’s sake. Between all of them there was enough food for the vegans and the non-vegans, and probably all of Willam’s other neighbours on the block too.

Luckily, people seemed fine to linger and talk and start the drinking early. Several more minutes passed, and Raja didn't appear.

“Who are we still waiting for?” asked Adore, looking around the room.

“Yeah, I’m getting hungry,” added Dela.

“Everything looks fantastic,” added Latrice.

“Except for the canapés,” snarked Bianca.

“We’re waiting for Willam’s crush…” teased Alaska, nudging Willam in the side.

Courtney rolled her eyes, “You’re starving us because Raja is late? As usual?”

“Hey!” snapped Willam, “She’s probably like, making an actual wedding cake or something. You know her. She’s talented!”

“Now a wedding cake is something I can get behind…” commented Jinkx, looking suggestively to Dela. Dela ignored her.

"Did they break up again?" whispered Latrice to Willam. Willam shrugged, she had no idea.

But Raja still wasn't here, and Willam was sweating through her deodorant with nerves! Ugh, at this rate she was never going to get laid.

“Let’s just go ahead and start,” said Willam, diplomatic, which she thought was extremely admirable of her given the high-stakes nature of this casual potluck. “If she’s late, then she’s late and she can’t complain if she doesn’t get first choice.”

“And if she’s lucky, the canapés will be long gone,” commented Bianca, nudging Latrice, who laughed along before glancing longingly at Dela, and they stepped up to fill their plates.

People filed around the table, chatting and giving one another compliments on what fantastic creations they’d brought, even Adore’s home brew. Though to Willam, the nine-percent-alcohol beer tasted like a yeasty grapefruit had been left out in the sun for too long.

Willam sighed, and leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms with disappointment. Maybe Raja wasn’t going to come to the potluck at all. Maybe she hadn’t picked up on Willam’s highly subtleindications that she wanted to get railed, or worse… wasn’t interested?!

But then the doorbell rang.

Willam leapt up from her slump against the counter, and sprinted to the door. She adjusted her skirt and pushed her tits up a little further in her bra, counted fifteen seconds down, and opened the door.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” said Raja, with a casual grin that could charm a rocket to Mars. Willam nearly fainted with the force of it.

“Oh, uh, welcome!” said Willam, stepping back and holding the door open, noting that Raja had a tote bag over her shoulder. Raja entered, looking around curiously. She wore a very normal outfit of a button-up and jeans, but it was somehow the sexiest thing Willam had ever seen, and she wanted to tear her clothes off with her teeth.

“Nice place.”

“Thank you, it’s cheap,” replied Willam, leading her into the kitchen, and hoping Raja was taking the opportunity to look at her ass.

“Look who’s here!” said Willam as they entered the room, and everyone turned to look. Willam hadn’t expected that. But maybe she shouldn’t have announced it.

“Hey guys,” said Raja, putting her tote bag down on the kitchen island, tucking her long, sensual, elegant hair over one shoulder. “So… an office potluck, that’s a fun idea.”

“It sure is,” replied Bianca, raising her eyebrows, “Why don’t you come over here and check out Willam’s canapés…”

“No!” said Willam, hurrying to change the subject. “Uh… Raja, what did you bring?”

“Let me see…” Raja dug around in her bag, and took out a package of the cheapest grocery store brand chips available.

Alaska blinked with surprise. Courtney scoffed. Bianca and Latrice looked at each other and winced.

“Nice, I love chips,” said Adore, nodding contentedly.

But Raja didn’t seem embarrassed at all, or even aware of the anyone else’s judgement. What a sexy quality. Plus, she was still digging around in her bag.

“Oh yeah, and this,” said Raja. Willam’s heart beat quickly with anticipation.

It was a bottle of cheap chardonnay. Only two-thirds full.

“She didn’t drive here, did she?” whispered Dela to Jinkx. Maybe they were back together?

“Hang on…” continued Raja, giving Willam a knowing wink.

Willam wasn’t sure she could handle the anticipation; her pits were damp, and so was her pussy. If Raja didn’t pull something truly impressive out of her bag, her standing in the office would be ruined forever! But the silver lining, considered Willam, was that her disastrous canapés wouldn’t be nearly as memorable compared to Raja’s chips and wine.

With a flourish, Raja pulled one final thing out her bag and slapped it on the table.

Everyone leaned in to see what it was.

It was a plastic ziplock bag, full of dense, deep green, rich buds of weed. It had to be at least an ounce. Willam nearly drooled, the weed looked so good; fresh and sparkling with crystal-like feathers on the dried, curled leaves, likely to produce a wonderful, mind-bending high.

“I didn’t have time to make it into brownies,” said Raja, shrugging, “I hope this is okay…?”

“Oh, this is more than okay!” said Alaska, clapping her hands together gleefully. “I’ll get my bong…”

“Wow,” said Courtney, coming over to look at the baggie. “Is that local…?”

“Like so local, I grew it on my balcony,” replied Raja proudly.

“And I thought growing tomatoes on my balcony was impressive,” commented Dela.

“No way, I grow balcony tomatoes too!” added Latrice, turning to Dela with a delighted smile. “But only the cherry vine variety, what about you?”

“Well, I just learned about this dwarf variety out of Florida called the ‘micro tom,’" replied Dela, glowing with Latrice’s attention. "And they’re specifically designed to thrive in pots…”

"I can't grow a vegetable to save my life," commented Raja.

“Don’t talk to me about gardening,” deadpanned Bianca. "I hate dirt."

“But then why do you love telling me I'm such a dirty girl…?” replied Courtney smugly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Bianca seemed lost for words, a rare occurrence.

“This is way better than chips,” sighed Adore, happily.

“Raja, you’re really taking the cake tonight,” declared Jinkx, before looking longingly at Dela again. "But apparently vegetables are the way to go…”

"Pretty sure tomatoes are fruits, Jinkx," said Adore, putting her arm around her. Jinkx raised her eyebrows, turning to Adore affectionately. Romance, or maybe it was just drama, was in the air tonight.

Alaska came back out with her bong, clean and polished and ready to rip.

Willam, personally, had been rendered speechless. Everyone went back into motion at once, the group splitting up to grind the buds and roll joints, and load up food on plates, and they all started talking at once. They complimented the dishes, sampled everything, and successfully kept track of what was vegan and what wasn’t, etc. It occurred to Willam, as she stood there with her mouth half-open and her friends milled around her, that this was actually a really successful potluck. Everyone was eating, drinking, smoking, (or choosing not to drink or not to smoke, whatever their preference) and having a great time. Wow.

“Here,” said Alaska, dryly, pushing a plate of food into Willam’s hands.

“Oh, right,” said Willam, and looked down, remembering she was hungry. She wolfed in what was on the plate. Everything was absolutely wonderful, except her canapés, which were dubious.

After talking to Bianca about an upcoming meeting, complimenting Adore’s strange homemade beer, sliding past Latrice and Dela as they bonded flirtatiously over the nuances of tomato husbandry, accepting a hug from Jinkx, and replying vaguely when Courtney asked in a hushed tone if Bianca 'had been flirting with' Alaska, Willam finally made her way over to the sink to deposit her empty plate. Someone, ideally Alaska, would do the dishes tomorrow.

“The canapés were pretty good,” said a low voice behind her, and Willam turned to see Raja with her own empty plate, and a coy little smile on her mouth. “And thank you for inviting me, by the way.”

“Oh, you liked the canapés? Really?”

“Of course I liked them, you made them, after all… and in case it isn't obvious, I can't cook either,” replied Raja, putting her plate in the sink, and leaning in close to Willam as she did so. "I spent like forty-five minutes panicking over what to bring."

Willam breathed in sharply, wildly aroused by Raja’s sheer proximity, and the sexy smell of weed and perfume that drifted from her. Multiple crevasses were getting damp again, and Willam might need to take a breather…

Raja plucked a joint from her chest pocket, and held it between her slim, tattooed fingers, and said, “So, do you want to go smoke this in the back yard and make out?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” replied Willam, unable to suppress her delight, and barely able to believe her luck. She took Raja’s hand and quickly led her out of the room, while everyone was occupied talking amongst themselves, enjoying the shared gifts of food and weed.

End

#rpdr fanfiction #willam belli #raja gemini #raja x willam #bianca del rio #alaska thunderfuck #rare pair #potluck #group fic #fluff #fic challenge #lesbian au #dartmouth420

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sooibian · 3 years

Text

So Let's Runaway - Costa Brava

Prologue >> Costa Brava >> Seville >> Cuéllar

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre/Themes: Fluff, angst, humour, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo

Warnings: Grief, loss, heartache, toxic relationships, mildly explicit language

Description: A bachelors trip turns into a soul-searching journey when an unlikely group of three travels through the scenic landscapes of Spain. Their experiences present them with opportunities to mend bridges, face their fears and fall back in love with the true essence of life.

Word Count: ~ 5.3k

A/N: this story is a part of @supermwritersnet ‘Around the world in 31 days’ event. event masterlist.

Tag list: @sooadorable @rosetvler @changshapatrol @his-mochi-cheeks @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt @j-pping @kysoobydoobydoo @exoxobsession @camillapad @reekyungsoo let me know if you’d like to be (un)tagged.

@smolgirlbigthoughts thank you so much for the description!!! ;~~~~~;

After having stayed the night (or whatever was left of it after a red-eye flight) in an Airbnb in Barcelona, the three of you hired a Lyft to Europcar to pick up the SUV that Chanyeol had pre-booked for the Costa Brava - Seville - Cuéllar itinerary. What you’d gathered from your several conversations with Chanyeol after that serendipitous coffee date was that each of the three friends had handpicked an adventure sport to try out in these places.

Chanyeol had chosen scuba diving in the rugged coast of Costa Brava with its spectacular cliffs and countless coves. Kyungsoo had appositely picked out an adventure sport involving throwing oneself out of an airplane thousands of feet above ground a.k.a. skydiving in Seville, the capital of Andalusia, resting, wise and old, upon the Guadalquivir river. And Yixing, bless his heart, had wanted to take part in a bull run in Cuéllar that takes place on the last Sunday of August each year.

Twirling the car key on his finger, Chanyeol, dressed in baggy black shorts, a loose fitting purple tee, super dark oversized shades and a snapback cap worn backwards, strongly resembled that ‘smiling face with the sunglasses’ emoji as he walked out of the booking office with Kyungsoo following closely behind. All set to catch a few winks in the rear seat comfort of the SUV, you pulled down the brim of your sunhat but suddenly, a blur of turquoise swooped past you, capturing your attention. Your drowsy eyes wrestled the summer sun to land upon a gorgeous turquoise Buick convertible swerving around the parking area before coming to a fashionable halt. A portly, bespectacled man stepped out of the vehicle and deposited its key with the booking office.

This was it.

This was the car ideal for a road trip, not some mafia boss’ kidnapping vehicle.

The essence of time dawned upon you so you trotted to where the Buick was parked and went down on your knees, hands folded in an implicit plea. The two men, startled at first, were quick to realize what was up.

Kyungsoo fixed you with a judgemental gaze that wasn’t any different from a mother’s fed-up of her child’s tantrums while Chanyeol broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Shoulders hunched under the weight of his tan leather backpack, Kyungsoo crammed his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants and sighed, “The SUV’s more practical.”

With a twinkle in your eye, you exclaimed, “Screw practical! Just look at it! It’s a convertible and we’re on a road trip!”

Grinning from ear to ear, Chanyeol advanced towards you gingerly. “Shifu, my love-”

Jutting out your lower lip, you crossed your arms over your chest and whined, “Don’t call me that after you’ve ditched me for Miss Perfect Hair!” causing Kyungsoo to roll his eyes which distracted you from Chanyeol’s stealth attack.

All of a sudden, the beanpole leapt at you, maneuvered you like he would a balloon sculpture, tucked his arms under your knees, picked you up and shoved you in the backseat of the dreary black vehicle with sun shades on windows darker than Kyungsoo’s soul. With Chanyeol’s finger pressing down on the ridge between your eyebrows, you laid down on your back, sulking, “Some road trip this is. Can I atleast drive?”

Before slamming the car door shut, he teased, “Take a nap.”

And...you tried.

Forty five minutes into the drive, you tried so hard to make up for the red-eye flight but Kyungsoo’s phone Just. Wouldn’t. Stop. Ringing. To make matters worse, he sounded like a broken record parroting the words ‘margin call’, ‘shorting’, ‘S’, ‘B’, ‘stop loss’ over and over again. The same damn thing, every single time.

“Enough Kyungsoo! We’re on a vacation, dude,” Chanyeol chided, the almost indiscernible crack in his voice indicative of his annoyance.

Leaning back into his seat, Kyungsoo bragged, “The last thirty seconds earned me enough commission to be able to buy at least five bags of the kind I bought Aera yesterday.”

“Now, why would you buy Aera a bag?” Chanyeol asked, a hint of suspicion evident in his tone. The sounds of their voices had been mercilessly thwarting your attempts at a peaceful slumber but, this was different. The lack of response from Kyungsoo seemed to have piqued your interest. Your eyes fluttered open to a one eighty shift in Chanyeol’s mood. Brows knit together, his fingers impatiently drummed on the steering wheel as you both waited for Kyungsoo’s answer with a bated breath. But in his stead, it was his stupid phone that broke the silence.

Wide eyes fixated on the screen, Kyungsoo suddenly cried out, “Stop the car!”.

“What?!”

“Stop the car, Chanyeol!”

Letting out an exasperated groan, Chanyeol rashly veered the car to the right before hitting the brakes, causing you to nearly roll off your seat. Kyungsoo darted out of the vehicle and the next thing you knew, he stood facing the hood of the vehicle, his laptop perched atop the bonnet and his life support cellphone clutched in one hand.

Bowing to the screen, he greeted, “Moshi Moshi!”

“Is he taking a work call right now?” you mused.

Chanyeol snorted, “That’s Doh Kyungsoo for you.”

Chuckling softly, you squished your face against the back of Chanyeol’s seat and groused, “Well, along with loony, your friend seems to be fluent in Japanese.”

“Yah! Cut him some slack. He’s had a rough couple of weeks,” explained Chanyeol, wrestling with a bag of chips in his hands.

“Yeollie -”

It was on the tip of your tongue.

You wanted to tell Chanyeol about your encounter with Kyungsoo on the rooftop but there was no way you could explain your own presence in the first place. To make matters worse, you were the worst liar you knew. So, you decided it was a story that best remained untold for your own sake, your mother’s and inadvertently, Kyungsoo’s.

“Yeah?”

“Can I have a chip?” you asked instead.

“All yours!”

“I’ll have just one, thanks.”

“You alright, Shifu?” Chanyeol slurred around a mouthful of chips, “Is there anything you need?”

“A nap would be nice,” you jested while nibbling at the edges of the deep fried snack.

“Aww, sleepyhead, we’ll be there in an hour.”

Humming in agreement, you reached for another chip and cooed, “Are you alright, Yeol? What’s with the whole ‘bag for Aera’ situation?”

Chanyeol’s head spun around to give you a warm, dimpled smile. “Don’t worry. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he had wolfed down an entire packet of chips in a matter of minutes along with a can of some neon and black fizzy drink. A distant memory of Chanyeol guzzling an entire bottle of water in three seconds for shits and giggles back in Uni stretched your lips in a wistful smile.

By then, Kyungsoo was done with his twenty minute long call against the quaint cerulean and stone backdrop of fishing villages by the coast. Who needs a virtual background when you’re surrounded by coves of deep blue sea and beaches of golden sand? As he reached for the car door, you whispered in Chanyeol’s ear, “One more call and I’m chucking his phone out the window.”

Grinning mischievously as he fastened his seatbelt, Chanyeol sang, “Oh, Shifu, I’ve missed youuuu!”

The moment Kyungsoo stepped inside, a tangible gloom proliferated in the enclosed space. Chanyeol started the car and you quietly curled up in the backseat. Kyungsoo’s head spun around, round eyes blazing with conviction. Pointing towards the trunk, he said, “Do you see that cloth bag on top of Chanyeol’s trolley?”

“This one?” you asked, hoisting yourself up on one elbow, your arm carelessly flapping all over the luggage before landing on said cloth bag with a dull thump.

“Hand it over, please,” winced Kyungsoo, “Be gentle, it’s a gift.”

Passing him his precious ‘gift’, you let out an annoyed huff and laid down again, facing the backrest. But curiosity got the better of you. You immediately turned back around to see what this ‘gift’ looked like.

Kyungsoo loosened the strings of the canvas tote to reveal a black Birkin Cargo. Soft and lightweight, it was supposed to be Hermès first off-road bag. Your droopy eyes flew open in awe of its high-brow craftsmanship and it was certainly a thoughtful gift for a bride-to-be. If this gift was meant for you, you were sure to forgive any and all of his crimes but the bag didn’t seem to have the same kind of effect on Chanyeol.

The air was still thick with tension.

Gaze fixed on Chanyeol’s profile, Kyungsoo murmured, “I didn’t want to do this now.”

Eyes on the road, “Spill,” grunted Chanyeol, as if expecting the obvious.

“This is an ‘I’m sorry’ gift for Aera,” started Kyungsoo before lowering his voice to a whisper, “I picked it up from duty free last night...it’s fifteen times Yixing’s annual agricultural income.”

Chanyeol clicked his tongue in disapproval at Kyungsoo’s snide remark.

“What do you want to apologize to her for?” he then asked with a deep sigh.

“I- I can’t make it to the wedding,” said Kyungsoo, faltering in his otherwise steadfast speech.

“Why?” quizzed Chanyeol in a terrifyingly cool tone while anger started to rise within you. Why he allowed this midget to walk all over him was beyond you. Didn’t he have better friends?

“I pushed back an important appointment for this trip. It was either Spain or the wedding. And since you insisted on Spain...”

Furious, Chanyeol struck the steering wheel with his palm. With the rattle of the metal strap of his Rolex reverberating in the car, he bellowed, “The actual fuck, Doh Kyungsoo?!”

“What?! I said I’m sorry!”

“No, you didn’t! Besides, ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix anything! You’re supposed to be my best man - are- are you listening to yourself right now?!”

Chewing on the insides of his cheeks, Kyungsoo patiently waited for his friend to simmer down. After a pregnant pause, Chanyeol resumed reasoning with him, his tone evidently milder this time, “Okay, okay, talk to me. Does this appointment have to be on the exact same day as the ceremony?”

“No, it doesn’t and...it isn’t,” Kyungsoo explained before hurriedly requesting, “Can we do this later?”

Chanyeol took a sharp right turn along the tapering road and brought the car to a screeching halt. Brows furrowed, lips quirked in an angry smirk, he looked Kyungsoo straight in the eyes and you felt as if the air conditioner had suddenly started meting out the chilliest of blows.

“No, I want to talk about it right now! So, tell me. What’s more important than your best friend’s wedding?”

Kyungsoo took off his glasses, threw his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Chanyeol, please -”

“No, I need to know!”

“Then remember it was you who wanted to have this conversation on the first day of our trip,” he stated curtly.

“Enough with the drama Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol’s roar rang through the car.

“FINE!” Kyungsoo grumbled, “I got a job offer from the London office and...I accepted. I leave a week after we’re back in Seoul….since it’s a new position I cannot fly back for the wedding. And I would’ve...I- I was going to fly back for the wedding had it not been for this trip.”

“So you decided to leave. Forever. Just like that. Without even talking to me about it first.” Chanyeol thought out loud, his tone tellingly casual.

Looking out the window, Kyungsoo whispered audibly, “There’s nothing left for me in Seoul.”

Without another word, Chanyeol started the car.

Putting his glasses back on, Kyungsoo threw his hands up and argued, “So you’re not going to say anything?!”

Chanyeol cranked up the volume on the car’s stereo in response, leaving Kyungsoo tongue-tied.

***

Ten minutes into the drive, Kyungsoo’s phone blew up for, conservatively, the fifteenth time. But before he could even swipe to answer, Chanyeol lowered the car window, plucked his phone out of his hand and chucked it into the shrubbery by the roadside and continued to drive at an accelerated speed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open but no words came out and unbeknownst to you, you were mirroring the dazed look on his face.

Chanyeol stuck his thumb out to where you were seated and justified indifferently, “It was her idea.”

It wasn’t a house. It was a warzone.

The spacious three bedroom apartment had invisible borders drawn out and nobody dared to encroach upon the other’s territory.

After arriving in Costa Brava, the three of you settled in and freshened up before heading out for a scheduled theoretical lesson on scuba diving conducted by your PADI certified instructor. The lesson had ended sometime around sunset and through the entire thing, you acted like complete strangers, making it more awkward than necessary for the twenty something instructor.

After the lesson, Kyungsoo offered to drive the trio to a boutique hotel, Hostal Sa Rascassa’s restaurant, which was supposed to be located on the edges of a tranquil, secluded cove and served traditional sea-food centric dishes like -

“- grilled sardines, cod fishcakes and octopus stewed with onion and pepper,” Kyungsoo counted on his fingers, making your stomach growl and your mouth water.

Chanyeol brushed him aside with a bitter, “I’m not hungry.”

Turning to you, Kyungsoo asked politely, “Wanna come?”

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Chanyeol shooting you a death glare so you decided to wriggle out of the situation by citing tiredness.

Kyungsoo lifted his shoulders in a dismissive shrug and took off in a taxi, leaving the car to the two of you.

“Where do you wanna eat?” Chanyeol asked as you got into the passenger’s seat.

Slack jawed, you chastised a giggling Chanyeol, “Yeollie, you’re absolutely horrible!”

It had been months.

Months since Natasha had walked out of their shared apartment.

And ever since then, every night, the moment Kyungsoo’s head would hit the pillow, a sense of hopelessness would erupt right in the middle of his chest. Spreading its wings far and wide, this despair would engulf him entirely and render him sleepless.

Nothing he tried helped his disposition so he’d started working on accepting this feeling as an inextricable part of his being. Something he’d have to learn to live with for the rest of his life.

Overcome by exhaustion, Kyungsoo drifted off only to be jolted awake by a jarring memory.

Hands balled into fists, Natasha yelled, ‘HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?’

‘This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Natasha! This deal could help us!’ Kyungsoo thundered in the face of her dogged determination to not let this slide.

‘Can’t you see that I don’t care?’ She met his bloodshot eyes with tears welling in hers.

Brows knit together, Kyungsoo ruminated on his thoughts before firing back, ‘Are you saying that you don’t care about my life?’

Exasperated, Natasha ran a hand through her hair to ground herself and argued, ‘Stop it, Kyungsoo! Don’t confuse your work with your life! Your work isn’t your life. It’s just a part of it. WHAT ABOUT US?’

‘Us?’ Kyungsoo deliberated, ‘I bought this apartment so that we could live together.’

Natasha retracted with every step Kyungsoo took towards her, expression coloured in unpleasant shades of anger and disgust. Letting out a mirthless laugh, she taunted, ‘Oh, please! You bought this apartment to impress people with your upmarket address.’

Aghast, Kyungsoo sank into the couch, his mind flitting between despair and hope. Head in his hands, breathing jagged and raspy, he reasoned, ‘I can’t believe you’re saying this to me! I’m planning a future with you.’

‘The future is yet to come, Kyungsoo. WHAT ABOUT OUR PRESENT?’

‘STOP YELLING!’

‘THEN LISTEN TO ME!’

Hands on his knees, Kyungsoo’s gaze shot up to rest upon Natasha’s flushed face. ‘What do you want?’ He demanded in a terrifyingly low tone.

A silent tear slid down her cheek as she explained with a quiver in her voice, ‘I want your time, Kyungsoo. I want a relationship not a retirement plan.’

Helpless, Kyungsoo toyed with the words in his mind before blurting, ‘If the chairman of Nakamura Corporation wants to meet me then I have- to- go! If he likes the presentation, he’ll give us the entire account. Don’t you see how big this is for me?’

‘But what about us, Kyungsoo? What about our dinner plan?’

‘We can postpone it to next month, can’t we?!’

‘It’s my birthday, Soo. I can’t postpone my birthday. You’d promised me this dinner...no matter what! You cancelled the reservation without even asking me first.’

Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers and whispered, ‘Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...but I have to go.’

When you padded into the living room, sleep befuddled at 5 a.m., you caught Chanyeol and Kyungsoo locked in an embrace, both of their eyes squeezed shut, as if wordlessly conveying an incredible degree of warmth and affection towards each other.

All of it….in “bro code”.

You imagined the conversation in your head, in two deep, distinct male voices:

‘I’m sorry I threw your phone out the window, bro!’

‘It’s what I deserved, bro!’

Rubbing away the drowsiness from your eyes, you tiptoed back into your room so as to not disrupt this….whatever this was supposed to be.

***

Underneath the purple-pink skies, enveloped in the cool early morning breeze, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, and you, dressed in spandex scuba suits, huddled together in solidarity on the boat’s bulwark.

The diving site that Chanyeol had picked was called ‘Boreas Wreck’. The Boreas was a high sea tugboat that served for the German Navy during World War II. It was deliberately sunk in 1989 for the purpose of creating an artificial reef and thus, a scuba diving attraction.

“Any non-swimmers?” the trainer asked and Kyungsoo’s hand shot up in the air.

Her full lips curled up in a dazzling smile. “You’re brave,” she remarked and you heard Kyungsoo swallow hard, inviting a snigger from Chanyeol.

Hands on hips, her perfect figure accentuated by the spandex, she instructed, “You will be diving deep into this sea now, do you remember the theoretical part I taught you on the shore?”

Chanyeol and you were confident (and loud) in your affirmation.

Kyungsoo, not so much.

With the bulky dive equipment on, the instructor created a circle with her thumb and forefinger, gesturing, “All okay?”

The three of you responded by following suit.

First dive, twelve metres depth.

You’d become the proverbial fish out of water except you were not the fish and you were under water and your whole world had been turned upside down….quite literally.

You spun around to find the instructor assisting Chanyeol with his breathing rhythm and Kyungsoo curled up like a shrimp, hugging his knees. Arm extended, he gave you a “thumbs up” which meant an entirely different thing under water from what it did on land.

Thumbs up, in diving lingo, spelled trouble. It meant that, for whatever reason, the diver wished to ascend. But, by then, you’d known Kyungsoo long enough to understand that there was no real cause for concern.

The look in his eyes told you that he was simply struggling to adapt.

You swam towards him, with your legs and not your arms, in order to maintain good buoyancy control. Clasping your hands together in a mitten grasp, you signalled him to hold onto you. Kyungsoo created a circle with his thumb and forefinger to signal “okay” before putting his hand on your forearm, the soft ripples caused by his gentle movements gleaming in the artificial light from your gear.

You then raised your other arm and flattened your hand, palm down, to “pat” the water in front of you as you would the head of a dog. Wearing a comforting eye smile, you essentially asked Kyungsoo to take it easy and relax. You then levelled your hand with his eyes, palm facing up before drawing a deep breath, wordlessly asking Kyungsoo to breathe slow, deep and long.

Another nod. Another “okay”.

He then pointed his index finger to his ear, the gesture indicating that he couldn’t clear his ears and had trouble equalizing. So you locked your eyes with his and took his elbows in your hands to pull him up to ascend slightly before quickly pushing him down again while wondering whether he’d paid attention to the theoretical lessons at all.

He squeezed his eyes shut before giving you another nod which meant that the equalization was a success.

Kyungsoo’s thumb and forefinger met in another “okay” but this time with an eye smile which you reciprocated with an “okay” before snapping your fingers into a teasing finger heart.

All traces of agreeableness instantly vanished from his visible features.

***

The deeper you went, your fluo green spectrum widened, whelming you with the underwater world’s tranquil beauty which neutralized the shooting pain in your ears and the violent thumping of your heart. Corals in the shape of giant mushrooms floated around you and sea urchins greeted you with their bright purple-brown spikes glowing under the ocean’s natural light. At your feet, a shy goby fish with its large head and tapered body tunneled its way into the sand upon sensing the arrival of strangers.

While you were immersed in this exquisite scenery, a wide eyed Kyungsoo grabbed your attention by waving at you, his hand holding a pink fin.

‘That fin looks familiar,’ you thought before realizing it was your fin that had released itself from your right foot. You almost choked from laughing with the regulator on and the mask attached to your face as Kyungsoo helped you stick it back on.

Having been privy to breathtaking videos and countless stories of the mysteries and magic of the underwater world, a first-hand experience felt surreal. You were quick to adapt to the environment and didn’t try to fight it or control it and your first breath under water had been an experience like no other.

The Boreas Wreck was home to a number of incredible marine species such as Mediterranean sponges and blue gorgonians, scorpionfish, sea urchins, starfish, goatfish, mullets, bream, lobsters, groupers, and barracuda. While you couldn’t pindown all the enticing, drop dead gorgeous palettes of reds, blues, and yellows that crossed paths with you, shoaling, schooling...or even solitary, it didn’t take away from the sheer awe you were overcome with at every second of your time several azure and viridian metres below the surface of land.

The instructor then guided the three of you inside the boat’s wreck, which was safe to enter since all hazardous items had been removed before Boreas was scuttled. With an excited Chanyeol in the lead per usual, you visited some of its confined rooms, and went further in to explore the kitchen, the engine room, the bridge and even the captain’s cabin. The dilapidated metal and wood body of the civil boat, covered almost entirely in sea fauna, was nothing short of a beautiful nightmare.

Traversing, you reached one corner of the boat basked in a blinding white light, enveloping you in a gentle embrace. Emotions so carefully locked away came flooding through the dam of your forced stoic indifference. Giving in, you stretched your arms out, allowing yourself to freefall into a distant memory.

Haphazardly flapping your arms and legs, you struggled to keep your head up but no matter how hard you tried, the pool water made its way into your mouth, nose, and eyes, even.

‘Appa!’ you managed loudly as you felt yourself drowning again.

Your Appa was the one who always came to your rescue.

No matter where you were, no matter how bad things got. He was always there. So when he just stood there, a smile on his face, watching you grapple with a force that mercilessly dragged you down while you kicked and punched and floundered to stay afloat...a mysterious emotion rose within you.

You felt betrayed by the man who was supposed to have your back.

Seething, ‘Appa!’ you bawled, but to no avail.

Until...magically...you didn’t need his help anymore.

After days of relentless torture, you’d finally found yourself moving forward, cutting through the water with synchronized movements of your arms and legs.

But the exhilaration hadn’t lasted long.

A couple of minutes in and you realized that that force was winning again but this time, you didn’t drown.

This time a familiar pair of hands grabbed you before you went under and threw you up in the air as your misty eyes took in the biggest smile on your father’s face with an equally big one gracing your bright features.

Circling his arms around your tiny torso, he nestled you into himself.

‘My champion!’ he whispered into your swim cap covered ear.

***

Back on the boat, with your diving gear off and fresh towels wrapped around your shoulders, you sank to your knees, completely wracked with sobs.

You felt a million emotions, all at once, the reigning one being embarrassment at this sudden outburst. With his arms around you and his chin resting on the top of your head, Chanyeol whispered, ‘It’s okay, it’s alright,’ to ground you while gently rocking you back and forth until you’d let it all out. Turning around, you buried your face into the crook of his neck as if to hide away from the inquisitive eyes of Kyungsoo and the instructor. Chanyeol held you closer, his hand stroking the back of your neck in silent support.

Even after a sumptuous lunch of salmon canapes, baked scallops, rice with spiny spider crab, mixed seafood finger foods complete with a chocolate semi sphere, Chanyeol was uncharacteristically quiet and Kyungsoo, uncharacteristically amiable.

“Feels a little morbid to be eating all this seafood after a dive,” you jested with a serious expression, nibbling on a piece of dark chocolate. And it was only then that the boys went back to being their true selves. Amused, Chanyeol guffawed, “Good to have you back!” while Kyungsoo choked on his sparkling white wine.

Shortly after, Chanyeol excused himself to make a call to Aera.

Kyungsoo ordered two coffees for the both of you and you noticed how he kicked about a conversation starter in his head as opened his mouth only to clamp it shut several times, before finally mustering, “I just want to say -”

“No,” you interrupted him in a mortified haste, “no, please don’t say anything I don’t wanna talk about it except, I’m really sorry for making it so awkward for you guys back there.”

“Oh, no,” he gave you a dismissive wave of hand, “it was just Chanyeol, me, and...erm...the pretty instructor who we’ll never see again. Chanyeol makes a complete ass out of himself every waking hour and as for me, please don’t worry about me. Especially not after you found me blind drunk on a rooftop in the dead of night. We all have our moments. I’m sorry,” he suddenly stopped short, expression solemn, “you said you didn’t wanna talk about it.”

You chuckled, teasing, “Pretty instructor, huh?”

This was the longest conversation you’d had with Kyungsoo so far and truth be told, you were caught off guard by... his smile. His resting face was a natural frown, mostly due to his poor eyesight. And in your experience, if he had his glasses on, it was Chanyeol who was the primary reason for his scowl, with you being a close second.

It took you a moment to take in that dazzling, heart shaped smile of his before you could speak again but it was Kyungsoo who lugged the conversation forward.

“I just wanted to thank you for what you did for me back there. I think I felt a little overwhelmed by the,” he pondered his thoughts before concluding, “the vastness of the ocean. Sorry, I’m no poet.”

“Don’t mention it,” you smiled, “How did you feel by the end of it?”

“Umm,” Kyungsoo ruminated on your question, “I felt like I was in the moment...like, reaching a stage of subtle awareness from surface awareness.”

“And you say you’re not a poet,” you quipped, “So, like, meditation?”

“Maybe. It felt as if I was letting go of...of all the emotional baggage -” he trailed off rather plaintively.

Voice laced with hesitance, you sang, “So….maybe…you’ll sleep better tonight?”

Clearly taken aback by your question, Kyungsoo exclaimed, “What?!”

“I’m sorry but, it’s very obvious that you haven’t been sleeping too well.”

Thick eyebrows scrunched together, he let out a confused ‘Oh!’

“Did Chanyeol -” he continued, only to be interrupted by a booming, cheerful voice, “Think of the angel and the angel appears!”

Kyungsoo looked up at a beaming Chanyeol and deadpanned, “That’s not how the saying goes. Anyway, what took you so long?”

Eyes holding a glint of humour, Chanyeol placed a neatly wrapped iPhone box in front of Kyungsoo and took the dramatics up a notch with a stage performer-esque curtsey thus inviting amused stares from the nearby tables in the courtyard style restaurant. Kyungsoo unwrapped the packaging with the eagerness of a five year old on Christmas Eve and to his disappointment, instead of the high end handphone, he opened the case to a hot pink flip phone.

Kyungsoo let out a low growl, “The fuck is this?”

Standing at a safe distance from his fuming friend, Chanyeol quipped, “A phone,” while making no effort to suppress his laughter.

“Thank you, Mr. State The Obvious, but I’m an adult male, not a Japanese schoolgirl!”

Tickled by his own little prank, Chanyeol threw you under the bus by triumphantly howling, “It was Shifu’s idea!” before darting out of the premises.

Dumbfounded, you exclaimed, “WHAT?! NO!” as Kyungsoo fixed you with a death glare.

‘When were you going to tell me about this?’

Maybe this was one of your endless nightmares.

Maybe this wasn’t happening at all.

Your mother deflected your question by putting things away. Dirty dishes in the washer, clothes in the dryer, leftovers in the fridge, while you followed her around like a lost puppy, a crumpled, time stained letter held delicately in your hand.

The throbbing in your head now bordering on numbness, bile rising up your throat, your legs threatening to give away, you reiterated your question, vociferously this time, surprised at your own power of will. A quality that forever eluded you. The inability to voice your needs, your opinions, masked under a not so thinly veiled sense of self deprecating humour was...you, in a nutshell. This sudden surge of fighting spirit consuming you whole felt alien but at the same time, very natural and, at the same time, it was taking a toll on every nerve, every muscle, every bone.

Every second felt like your last.

‘Would she be able to handle it all over again?’ crestfallen, you mused, ‘The grief. The sympathy. The cumulation of my life -- all these decades condensed into a tiny vessel of ever fading memories. The sands of time trickling through her wrinkled fingers.’

‘Eomma, please -’ you cried out, only for your plea to fall upon deaf ears.

It wasn’t until the next morning that she spoke to you again.

Bloodshot eyes framed by the weight of living, she handed you a warm cup of tea and let out a deep sigh.

‘He never wanted you. It was your Appa who accepted me...he accepted us… It’s been three days since your Appa -,’ wracked with sobs, it took her a while to compose herself to be able to speak again, ‘don’t dishonour his memory.’

‘Why should I believe a word you say? Why should I believe that- that my own father never wanted me?’

118 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.02

10/19/2020

No Lies in a Marriage

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,150

Warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, language

A/N: As I said in the post earlier today, you’ll probably see updates for this story often right now because it’s at the beginning and I know where I’m going pretty clearly and how to get there and it’s kinda just writing itself for right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I love writing this reader with Thor...but I think it’s just because I love writing Thor. haha If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You sit up most of the night after talking to David, staring out your bedroom window at the small plot of land you call your own.

Your belonging. The only true one you’ve ever had.

It’s a small inheritance, sure but it’s yours. Yours alone. A sanctuary from the feeling of emptiness that you’d once felt wishing for something that felt like home. It’s more than even some will ever have.

You’re lucky.

And now you have to leave it behind?

There’s no denying your own part in this mess. You’d been given a choice and you’d made it, believe this outcome would never come. Yet here you are, betrothed and fated to be Queen of Asgard.

David comes to help you pack because he knows that you’ll be wallowing.

In shock you pack just as asked, essentials only which means for you, only your clothing, your laptop, and a very small collection of books are chosen.

You have no pictures to take with you. No family heirlooms or sentimental possessions. You fit it all into one large suitcase.

Funny. As you pack, you can’t help but imagine the lives your nomadic ancestors had lived. Much like you in these moments as you pack what little you have of your life away; they must have left everything behind over and over in their search for their own belonging.

It only takes you two hours to pack once David arrives and together you lug the suitcase down your little hallway to the front door.

There, a beautiful Asgardian stands waiting, her eyes on your own foggy expression with slight concern as David joins her and they lapse into quiet conversation as you continue to space out, thinking about the life you’re leaving behind.

Really, if you’re honest, it isn’t much of a life.

Yes, you have your routine. This is your house. Your things. But aside from that, there’s nothing here. Nothing but independence and solitude.

That’s enough, some would say. Others would wonder what you do with all your time.

Why hadn’t you found someone to share this life with? Someone who could appreciate the coziness of this place with you.

“Are you ready?” The Asgardian asks, Brunnhilde, her voice smooth but stern, yet not unkind.

You turn to look at her, hair gathered up on her head in a large bun. She’s dressed for the Norwegian weather she’s come from despite it being significantly hotter here.

She’s not bothered by it. Or if she is, she hides it well.

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No.” She smiles at you, cheek bones so rounded and pretty you almost want to stroke them because you’ve rarely seen anyone so beautiful.

All of the Asgardians are beyond compare when it comes to looks. Even those that are plain radiate a golden aura. Godlike. Thor’s is the strongest and he’s most certainly the most beautiful to look at.

You’d been too afraid to admit it to yourself before because you’d been so decided against marrying him, but Thor is by far the loveliest man you’ve ever seen. Ideal. He’s exquisite.

And you get to marry him. Which doesn’t exactly feel like a bad thing.

Being chosen to marry Thor would be amazing, given the fantasies you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in since the day you met with him, if not for the fact that you know he’s in love with someone else. Someone who won’t marry him. Someone stupid, obviously.

And those fantasies you’d indulged in would never happen with someone else in his heart. So without that, all you have left is duty. Duty to Earth and its people, ensuring their safety and though you honestly don’t think Earth needs it, the assurance from the Asgardians that they will respect humans as the dominant lifeform on the planet.

Yes, the whole Queen of Asgard thing is a little daunting and will probably take over your life, so you can’t blame this mystery woman for not wanting to give up her own pursuits to take care of an entire people. To give up one identity for another? Yours is close enough to blank—your life nearly empty—that for you, this might not be such a great loss and yet, this leaves you wondering what this will do for you career.

Small as it is, you’ve had two books published. Limited releases with not much traction. Still, the accomplishment is your own. One you’re proud of.

Will you have to stop writing?

“There will be a dinner, to introduce you to Thor’s inner circle. Myself, Loki, a few others that serve directly under him.” Brunnhilde is saying, pulling you back to reality.

You look around, having zoned out so thoroughly that you hadn’t even realized you’d boarded a plane and taken off.

“The only one you’ll have to watch out for is Sif. She’s usually pretty nice, but she’s a little miffed about the whole marriage situation. From what I’ve heard, she’s had a thing for Thor since they were children. She’s a fierce warrior. Might want to avoid her altogether if possible. Asgardian women can be a little territorial.”

Lovely, another rival.

“So can human women.” You grumble, already hating the looks of what you suppose will be an onslaught of distractions for your future husband in the forms of beautiful women.

Brunnhilde quirks a brow, raising it high as she considers your words but doesn’t comment further.

“He’s never seen her as more than a comrade in arms. Or so he says.” She sounds unconvinced, but you recognize her attempt to calm you.

You stare, saying nothing more as your world is overturned.

“After dinner, you’ll spend some time with Thor. He wants to talk to you a bit. The wedding will be on Thursday. Thor’s idea. Full of himself, the idiot.” She’s smiling as she insults him, flipping the page of a magazine she’d grabbed from the pocket of the seat in front of her and you realize they must be close friends.

“Did he really pick me?” You wonder, knowing that her personality will only let her answer one way.

Brutally honest.

“Against all our recommendations.” She tells you. “Most of us were pulling for the Hungarian one. She had the schooling and the training. A little too eager for Thor, or so he said. And Loki. Loki was also in favor of you.”

“Loki?!” You gasp, remembering with great detail your chance meeting with the Asgardian prince.

“Oh yeah.”

Why would Loki want Thor to choose you? You weren’t exactly nice to him. Then again, you weren’t really mean either. Just…blunt.

More importantly, after the awkward conversation with Thor and his admission to marrying despite his feelings for someone else, his choice is the most confusing.

“Why did he pick me?” You plead. “Thor.”

“You’ll have to ask him tonight after dinner. I couldn’t tell you other than that he said he wanted someone real. Someone who knew what it’s like to be a normal person. Whatever that means.” Brunnhilde shrugs. “Normal is all relative. Odin, I need a drink.”

The plane ride is over too quickly and the ride to New Asgard even shorter. The village is large but not much larger than the town you’d grown up in. Plenty of houses and public spaces but nothing like a cityscape.

You’re surprised by the more modest choices they’ve made for their homes. Simple houses with wood siding and strong rooftops.

That is, most of the village is modest. Almost at the center of the largest grouping of buildings is a large multi-storied palace.

Just as it did the first time you saw it when you’d been brought for the meeting, you gasp when you see it, admiring the beauty of the structure bathed in afternoon sunlight.

It reminds you of an old Nordic home you’d seen online only on steroids. Four, maybe five stories? All roofs are tall and sharp, parts covered with moss.

Brunnhilde shows you into the main foyer, large and tall room that allows space large enough for people to stand and chat. Here she leaves you and David with a young Asgardian woman. She looks as if she can’t be more than seventeen but from what you know about Asgardian aging, she’s probably hundreds of years old.

She escorts you both to your new room, and you and David gasp at the sight.

Even though it’s smaller than the sitting room you’d been in when you met with Thor before, there’s a large bed immediately to the right, covered in luxurious plum and silver silk sheets. A large dark brown bear skin rug covers the center of the floor. To the left is an extravagant dark oak armoire, beside it a matching vanity with a low cushioned and backless seat.

On the far wall, between two sets of heavy wooden double doors that lead out to a balcony sits a desk and another seat with a black cushion, the same style as the vanity’s chair.

There’s a low hanging chandelier made of intricately twisted wood, reinforced with dark steel. The design of it makes you think there should be candles, but instead you find it furnished with small flame-shaped lightbulbs.

Along each of the walls are beautiful artworks, one of a singular mountain you’ve never seen on Earth. Another a golden palace with a sky of literal space above and behind it. There’s a smaller painting almost right above the bed and the likeness of it is so precise, you gasp again.

David follows your gaze with his mouth hanging open a little but then he chuckles. It’s a throaty sound as he turns away from you and moves further into the room with your bag while you deposit your purse on the bed, eyes glued to the painting.

“These Asgardians seem to be experts at everything.” David says, conversationally. “Their architecture, their music, their wits in battle. It seems even their art is exceptional.”

You’re still too busy staring to reply.

When David speaks again, he’s right beside you, voice dropped in volume.

“It must really look like him, to have you rendered speechless.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Just like him. Only now he has the eyepatch. He looks the same with two eyes. Less rugged but the same.”

“And he will remain the same, long after you’ve died, I think.” David admits.

“Yeah…” You swallow, looking down at the bottom of the frame.

The thought had only begun to occur to you when you’d been making your way through the city after Brunnhilde had confessed to being over a thousand years older than Thor and Loki.

“For Thor, this marriage will pass in the blink of an eye.” You sigh, feeling a little saddened by truth of that.

You turn around and sit down on the bed, resting your hands on your knees limply as you stare at the floor.

David squats before you, forearms on his knees.

“You’re serving a great purpose.” He tells you. “Ensuring the safety of the human race. You’re the white flag the Asgardians are waving. History will remember you, Y/N. It will not be in vain.”

Your eyes begin to water, and you nod, knowing he’s right.

“I know I just…” Your head gives an involuntary turn towards Thor’s portrait, but you manage to keep yourself from looking. “He’s in love with someone already. And, yeah, I’d never thought about being with someone before. But now that I’m faced with it, now that I know I’ll be his wife—I don’t know that I don’t want him to like me.”

“He may come around.” David consoles. “You’re a pretty girl and nice, even though you bite.”

His teasing draw a small curve of your lips. The levity however is quickly lost at the prospect of your life stretched out before you, never knowing love as your husband covets another woman.

This isn’t what you’d expected. To be fair you hadn’t expected anything, but now the idea of being married to Thor knowing that he’d much prefer if you were someone else hurts you in a way you didn’t know had been possible.

This ache in your chest feels strange and vivid and unbearable.

Your tears flow. David sighs and reaches up to wipe your cheeks, pulling you in for a hug.

Taking his offered comfort, you hide your face against his shoulder, allowing yourself these few moments to really feel the anxiety and sadness this whole thing has brought.

“I’m sorry.” David tells you, his voice steady but sad. “I wish I could give you a better life. I know that this is not what you parents would have wanted.”

You pull back, shaking your head as you gather yourself. “No, David. You’ve been the most supportive person in my life. This is how it’s supposed to be. Otherwise, why would I have the ancestors I have, right?”

David sighs, reaching up to wipe at your cheek.

“Besides, it’s not like I’ll be truly suffering. Not like other people do. I’ll have a good roof over my head, food, money won’t be a worry. How many other people my age can say that?”

David’s gaze becomes skeptical and he purses his thin lips a little. “Is that really how you feel?”

“Fuck no. This whole thing is complete shit.” You argue, then laugh as David chuckles too.

“There’s that fighting spirit. Keep that fire, Princess, and you’ll find a way through this.” He says, and the way the word Princess rolls of his lips makes you feel the way you’d always thought you’d feel had your dad lived to be a part of your life.

“You say that like it’s easy.” You sigh.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock on the door and it opens.

Both you and David shoot up to your feet as Loki walks in.

He’s smiling politely until he sees your face.

“I’m sorry. Am I intruding?” Loki wonders, as you quickly wipe away the tears left on your cheeks.

“No.” You shake your head quickly, voice thicker than when you arrived because of your break down. “No. Of course not. Come in.”

He doesn’t look convinced and his brow is furrowed as he looks you both over then stands with his hands behind his back. He looks neat and exotic wearing a pair of dark pants, a black top with embellishments in stunning emerald, a thin golden chain connecting each side of his high collar to the other.

“I’ve come to make sure that you find the clothing we’ve left for you.” Loki gestures at the armoire.

“I’m-I can’t wear what I brought?” You ask, pressing your hand to your chest, unintentionally sniffing.

“Tonight, you will meet with my brother’s court. It is a formal event that you must attend wearing slightly more traditional Asgardian garb.” Loki replaces his hands behind his back. “Brunnhilde has chosen something she thought would be your color. You have an hour then we’ll send your maid in to fetch you.”

You nod.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Loki asks again.

“You’re surprisingly worried.” You tell him, David moving to open the armoire and get a look at what you’re going to have to wear.

Loki’s face quickly shifts into a smile, his eyes averted as he nods.

“I hear you were the only person other than Thor who chose me.” You sit back down slowly, your hands softly skating over the cool silky sheets. “Why?”

“You were a breath of fresh air.” He admits. “Compared to the other candidates, you seemed the only one with her feet on the ground.”

Looking away from him you pinch the plum sheets.

“Is that why Thor chose me too?” You ask, knowing it isn’t the reason he chose you.

“Whatever the reason,” Loki begins, and his voice is stern enough to draw your gaze. “I’m certain my brother has nothing but honorable intentions. He’s always been the good one.”

“I think that’s true.” You nod, “He has always been the good one, if the stories are to be believed.”

“I make no excuses for who I was.” Loki assures you.

“But I think you and I both know that Thor’s intentions when it comes to me are anything but honorable.” You smile sadly. “I really hate lying. Let’s not lie to each other. We’re family, right? Or will be.”

Loki’s look remains somber, his eyes far away for a moment.

“You’re the right woman for the job. That is the truth.” Loki admits.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Loki nods. “One hour, your highness.”

His words give you a shock, and your left gaping at him as he leaves and shuts the door behind him.

“Well, that sounded strange.” David admits, “But not as strange as this dress. Well, perhaps strange is not the right word.”

You’re still reeling from the your highness as you get and walk to David that it takes your eyes a moment to process the sight before you.

“I am not wearing that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t breathe in this thing!” You whine, hooking your fingers into the ultra-high neckline of your dress.

It’s more like a cage, this piece that goes around your throat and shoulders. It connects to a slightly see-through bodice with soft split threads lining the length of the dress, underneath the top, silver layer is a soft pink one that stands pretty against your skin. It gives the dress depth and offers a pleasant backdrop for the waterfall skirt as it fans out around your feet.

The lattice neckpiece connects to the dress’s neckline with four stiff wire connectors wrapped in the same silver fabric as the rest of the dress.

Your hair, your maid expertly gathered atop your head, shaping it to look as much like you as it can but also keeping it contained with several silver Celtic knot-looking clips. She’d added very little color to your face, telling you that Thor had requested you look as much like yourself as possible so that his court could see the real you.

Even so, you’re overwhelmed by what you see in the mirror as you pass a particularly large one as you and David make your way to the dining hall.

“Don’t fret.” David tells you, reaching over to stop your wringing hands. “Just be yourself. That’s why he chose you.”

“So, what you’re saying is to not be myself.” You nod. “Got it.”

David pulls you to a stop, turning you to face him. Your maid, Estrid, keeps walking a bit then stops leaving you both some space.

“I want you to remember something, Y/N.” David says, low and quiet so that only you can hear him. Well, he doesn’t know that Asgardians have better than human hearing, but whatever. “These people, they need you. They need you. More than you will ever need them.

“Without you, they might have to leave Earth because Thor will never turn against the human race. I don’t know why. We’re not that great.” David shrugs, and your mouth pops open as you breathe a pained gasp.

In this moment, with David’s helpful words, you’re provided with astounding clarity.

“She’s human.” You realize, eyes watering.

It happens so quickly, your breath catches, brain in a frenzy, hands shaking, sweating, your tears flow freely.

You’ve never cried so much in your life and you understand now that this will be your new state of being because what else can you do when you’ve knowingly given your life to a man who loves another human woman which only means that she will also only live for a short time and that means that Thor doesn’t have a lot of time with her so, of course he’ll want to be with her until the day she dies, because she’s the one he really wants to be with, and you’re just the tool to use so that he can stay here with her.

What kind of life have you fated yourself to?

“Your Highness?” Estrid asks, concern painting her voice as you shake your head, too panicked to speak.

David moves you towards the wall, pressing you against it to lean as Estrid moves closer to peek at you.

“Might I be of assistance?” She offers and David turns a smile on her.

“A glass of water, perhaps?”

Estrid hurries away giving you and David the hallway.

“Y/N?” He says, voice hard. “Breathe.”

You look at him, focus on the streak of white in his hair as it falls forward to hang across his brow.

It helps and you shut your mouth and breathe in deep through your nose.

He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls from it a white handkerchief. With gentle fingers, he coaxes your face up so that he can carefully wipe the tear stains from your cheeks. He takes a bit of the blush they’d put on you, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t either.

“What is it that troubles you? Tell me.” He urges you.

“Um…” You begin, chin quivering and making your voice shake a little. “…I-I-I don’t know how I’m going to be married to him when I kn-know that he really wants to be with s-someone else. I don’t know how…how…how…”

David sighs, shaking his head as he caresses yours. “Then you look elsewhere too. If he sees fit to be with someone else while you’re married, then you deserve to experience love too. Take a lover. Be discreet. No one will know and you will both get what you want.”

“Isn’t that wrong?” You half cry. “I mean, aren’t wives and husbands s-supposed to be faithful?”

David smiles, pulling your head down to kiss your forehead. “Then give him a chance to change his mind. If he doesn’t love you by the end of the year, then he’s a bigger fool than I already think he is. A downright dumbass.”

“I don’t like the idea of someone being with me when they don’t want to be.” You admit.

And David doesn’t need you to explain that this stems from living in the school, waiting for adoption only to never be chosen.

You’ve finally been picked, and this is what it’s for?

“Do you want me to come to dinner? I can insist on it.” He promises. “I’ll even make a scene.”

You shut your eyes and sob once, David pulls you against his chest and once more you hide your face against his shoulder.

Both of you hear her steps before you see her and yet, when you turn to accept your water, you’re frozen as you find yourself face to face with Thor.

He’s dressed beautifully, in black leather trousers, stitched with thick visible charcoal colored strips of more leather. His torso is covered in what you’d consider light armor. More leather pieces in deep gold tones except for the arms which are covered in metallic scales that shine under the hallway lights. His shoulders are draped in a floor length cape, black, thinner than the one you’ve seen him wear before.

A more casual cape, you suppose.

Both you and David are absolutely still, confused by Thor’s sudden appearance.

“I uh…” Thor looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he gestures behind him with his right hand, in his left a glass of water. “Estrid looked upset. She said you weren’t feeling well?”

There’s genuine concern in his voice and it surprises you enough to wipe away most of your worries for now.

“I’m fine.” You assure him.

David clears his throat. “I should go. I have my own dinner to eat.”

“No, please. Join us.” Thor rushes to invite him, gesturing back towards the dining hall again.

“No, no. Really.” David uses his hand to refuse, then reaches down to give your hand a squeeze. “Can I trust you to escort Y/N to dinner?”

Your heart swells for David, once again, the father you never had.

“Of course.” Thor nods, smiling at David before moving to you, seeing this as permission to move closer maybe? “I take full responsibility.”

There’s a twinge of bitterness in your chest, a rolling in your stomach as you see David narrow his eyes at Thor.

“I’m going to hold you to that, God of Thunder.” He threatens, and Thor seems to realize it’s a threat because he looks startled. However, he smiles and plays it off quickly, nodding. “Have a good dinner, princess.”

David gives your hand one more squeeze before leaving you and Thor to whatever awkward conversation you’re about to have.

Thor waits until you’re both alone in the hallway before he holds out the glass of water he’d brought for you.

“Have you been crying?” He wonders, voice soft and gentle. Deep too, it settles in your chest and makes you feel stupid for liking it.

“Just a little.” You admit.

“Why?”

“I’m nervous.” And that isn’t a lie. “And apprehensive.”

Also, not a lie.

“And I don’t trust you.” You confess, feeling no qualms about the shock that flits across his rugged face.

“What did I do?” He cries.

“You told me you’re in love with someone else who won’t marry you.” You sigh, taking a long drink of your water. “I’m not exactly excited to be marrying someone who already wants to be with someone else.”

Understanding shifts his expression and he nods, reaching up to scratch at the side of his chin.

“I’ll be honest,” He begins, offering you his arm as you lower your glass. “It was never something I expected either. After watching my parents love each other for many years, their marriage was something I hoped I could experience.”

“Then why didn’t you fight harder for this woman you love? Convince your court! She’s human, right? I’m sure the Earth Ambassadors would be happy to have you marry any human.” You reason, still hoping to get out of this even if the only thing you hate about this now is the fact that he’s in love with someone else.

That fantasy marriage you’d painted for yourself has taken over your inexperienced brain and planted a seed within your heart and you feel like a fool for it.

“They were fine with it. Jane is not ready for marriage and I cannot force her to marry me if she doesn’t want to.” Thor laments, truly sounding sad about her refusal.

“Doesn’t she care that you’re marrying someone else?” You wonder, watching his expression as he begins to lead you towards the dining hall.

“In a way.” Thor nods. “She and I want to be together, but Jane is devoted to her work. She could not make the time for the obligations marrying me would entail.”

“Sounds selfish.” You observe, hating Jane a bit because she has what you didn’t know you wanted. Maybe not exactly Thor himself yet, but the love he has for her.

Thor says nothing for a moment, thinking probably. He stops walking and you stop beside him.

“I would not want her to give up her passions. In marrying me, Jane would lose her identity. Which is too important to her to give up. I could never ask her to do it.”

“Because you love her.” You agree.

“Yes.”

“Which is why you find it so easy to do it to me.” You explain, realizing it as you speak it. “Because you don’t care about me. Therefore, my identity has little value. To you.”

Thor’s speechless, staring at you as your own heart pounds. You don’t know where you conjured the audacity to say the words out loud as they came to you, but they’re true. Truer than even you know.

“I do care.” Thor argues softly, looking at your hand wrapped around his bicep.

“You don’t, Thor.” You shake your head, politely disagreeing.

“Yes, I do!” He argues, this time a little more heated.

“What do I do for a living?” You challenge and he stutters, thinking hard.

He furrows his brow, crinkly creases at the corners of his eyes as he ponders.

You observe it’s loveliness. Truly a creature of perfection even with the gold and black metal patch over his eye. If he cared about you, you might actually fall for him. If he gave two shits, you might be a goner.

“Your family left you an inheritance!” He points out, as if this is what you do.

“You don’t remember?” You ask, knowing the answer. “I told you when we met, though I only mentioned it in passing.”

“How am I expected to remember then? If you were not specific?” He retorts.

“If I’d been Jane, you would have remembered.” You tell him.

“No.” He disagrees. “I’m always this inattentive.”

You laugh once, shocked by his candor. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not! Ask anyone once we’re seated. They’ll all tell you that I never pay attention or listen. To anyone!” He insists, and you laugh again because he’s being sincere.

His gaze is slight shock as he looks at you, then it softens, and he chuckles with you.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask him.

“I don’t know.” He chuckles again. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, I suppose.”

This sobers you and your laugh dies off.

“Can I ask a favor?” You look at him, trying to read him like you’ve never tried to do so to anyone before.

“Of course.” He nods.

“I know you don’t love me. And I know that the likelihood of you loving me at any point in our marriage is nonexistent, but I really want to try and make this marriage work. I want it to be as real as possible.

“Which means I want you to be honest with me about everything. I don’t want any secrets. I don’t want to think you’re talking to or meeting Jane because you’re acting suspicious. If you have to see her,” And he seems to understand that you mean, if he feels like he needs to for his own sake, because he loves her. “I want to know that’s what you’re doing. Please, don’t make a fool of me, Thor.”

Thor considers you for a moment, absorbing your words as you wait for his response.

Instead of giving you what you want, he gives you a long head-to-toe. “I was right to choose this gown.”

He chose it?

“You look exquisite. Just as a princess should.” He admires. “Come, let’s go introduce you to my friends.”

As he pulls you towards the dining hall, your heart begins to pound again as nervous energy courses through your veins setting your limbs to white noise again. Tingly.

“They’re all very eager to meet the woman who will be Queen of Asgard.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You worry.

Thor chuckles.

“I’m right there with you.”

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #marvel fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fic #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #king!thor x you #marvel au #a wife for thor #a wife for thor pt02 #thor odinson x reader

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

Text

To Serve and Protect (Bucky Barnes x Police!Fem!Reader)

the twd obsession has been interrupted since I’ve started watch TFATWS and have binged bucky fics like I was 15.

Summery: - Reader is an accomplished New York officer but an old case comes back in the shape of a super soldier in need of aid.

Warnings: - Light Spoilers for TFATWS, Cursing, mentions of Human Trafficking, flirty Bucky(kind of I tried)

You had just received your second medal of honor before the blip had occurred. When you came back, you were nearly arrested for breaking into what you had known as your apartment. Luckily, the situation was under control quickly. You had family just outside the city who were willing to support you until you got back on your feet but it still felt like a kick in the gut that your home was gone and you now had to learn a bunch of new skills to do with being a cop. Most of your friends had either died during the five years or had to move out of New York, and those who remained had moved on and didn’t seem to have time for you in their lives.

At least a few of your favourite places had stayed open, including what you thought was the best pizza joint in the state. You got dinner here most nights because it hadn’t changed. The tables still wobbled, the neon sign still buzzed from overuse, and Louis the owner still kept a couple slices of your favorite pie in the back for you.

“Please tell me the back booth is free” you sighed, taking the food from Louis.

“Long day, Detective?” Louis replied.

“New partner thinks I’m an idiot.” You mumble, taking a bite from the pie and burning your tongue.

“It’s clear,” Louis said sympathetically, nodding to the far side of the restaurant.

You slid into the small booth tucked out of the way, tucking into your pizza and soda. After your first slice you noticed a carving on the table. It was your initials plus A.S. equals epic. You smiled as you remembered your previous partner Aarush Sharma. You two had been friends since you joined the force and had come to this booth almost every break hour to fill up on pizza and terrible coffee.

“Detective L/N.” A gruff voice spoke to you. Judging by the shadow he casted over you, he was a big man.

“Look if your here to buy me off or intimidate me,” you snapped, “then you can fu-” you stopped short when you looked up. You recognised the man as James Buchanen Barnes instantly. “Oh,” you sighed with relief.

“You know me?” he asked you.

“Followed the Zemo case.” you explained. He visibly tensed at the mention of Zemo. You held up your hand to calm him. “I know you’ve been pardoned.” You suddenly remembered how your conversation with the Winter Soldier had begun “wait, how do you know me?”

“I need your help,” He spoke low, just so the two of you could hear. He slid opposite you in the booth, leaning forward on the table. “Two-thousand-fifteen, August seventh you filed a report on a human trafficking ring operating out of staten island.” You began eating your second slice of pizza as he talked. “You arrested the main perpetrators, with the exception of Donnie Morris and Frank Abara. You opened an investigation on them but it went cold two months later.” You nodded along to the story. “That’s because-”

“They’re Hydra? Real names Robert Bern and Josh Smith? And the trafficking was for human experimentation?” you interrupted him. He stared at you, just about concealing his surprise. “I was a good cop.” you finished off your pizza, wiping your mouth and looking away in shame. “Was.”

“Why’d you stop?” he asked.

“They threatened me.” You patted the flour off your hands and picked up your soda. “And when that didn’t work, they told my friends to stop me else their family would be hurt, so.” you slurped on your soda and stared back at him.

His piercing blue eyes were reading you like a book, pulling apart your disgust at never catching them, and trying to figure out how to use it to his advantage. He had to admit it was impressive that a normal police officer was able to get farther than he was, but you were still a normal person.

“I need to find them,” he spoke up.

“Why?” you cocked your eyebrow, soda straw still in your mouth. You had been studying his face to find any tell of malintent but the only conclusion you were drawing was that he was handsome as hell, and really good at hiding his tells.

“You don’t need to know.” he retorted. You hummed with discontent.

“See, Mr. Barnes. My job is to protect and serve. Sadly, that includes assholes.” You put down the now empty soda cup and leaned forward to match his position. “And you’ve said enough for me to arrest you under suspicion of planning to commit a crime against said assholes.” His glare hardened and his jaw tightened as he stared you down. “So please answer the question, ideally in a non-incriminating way.”

He looked and huffed, sliding back a little before fixing you with his stare again, but it wasn’t long until he was looking from his hands to the window, seemingly in defeat. “Their boss is dangerous. And I’m the one that made it so.” He forced a bitter smile finally looking back at you. “I’m trying to right as many wrongs as I can but I can’t find this guy but you.” he punctuated by pointing at you with his joined hands. You caught a glint of something metal up his sleeve that you suspect was his arm. “You came very, very close. Apparently, Closer than I thought you did.”

You mulled it over in your head for a moment before reaching into your breast pocket and pulling out your notepad. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Barnes” You looked over the restaurant between bouts of writing, talking all the while in case people were listening. “The case is closed and the records are public so everything you know is everything I know.” You quietly ripped off the piece of paper and pocketed the notebook, picking up your trash to disguise it. He took the hint and hid the paper by putting his hands down and sliding back in the booth, seemingly in defeat. “Good night, Mr. Barnes.” you said, and walked away, depositing your trash on your way out.

Bucky sat their a moment to give you a head start before stepping out himself, piece of paper in hand. As he walked home he opened the paper.

Tomorrow Seneca Village 23:35

Bucky stood in front of the plaque, mind too busy working through every horrible thing that could happen from this little stunt. He was about to run when he heard your voice. “Hey there.”

You walked over and stood next to him, stoically in your repose. You were wearing a pair of jeans and heeled boots with a fashionable jacket and a suitcase in hand. “I don't know which of us is stupider right now.”

“You could have picked a better meeting spot.” Bucky retorted, shifting uncomfortably.

“It’s horrifying,” you commented, putting the case down, Reading over the plaque. “Over two hundred lives ruined by a couple of assholes who wanted a park. Reminds me of another couple of assholes.”

“Yeah?” Bucky replied. You stood there a moment longer, thinking if you could still go back. You bit your tongue and decided having faith was the better bet.

“Burn it when you’re done.” you shot back and walked past him.

Bucky noticed the case just outside his line of vision. He picked it up and walked away from the plaque, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible despite the case not really matching his attire.

You didn’t hear anything for a couple weeks after the impromptu meeting, having handed over every piece of evidence that had been sitting in your self storage since 2015. Each minute was spent biting your nails with stress, hoping your actions didn’t come back to bite you in the ass. Then the news came on, publicizing that Robert Bern and Josh Smith had been arrested ‘after it was discovered they were connected to a human trafficking ring in New Jersey and a former operation in Staten Island.’

“Looks like somebody did your job for you.”

“Shut up, Louis.” you quip back at him, nursing a terrible cup of coffee. The restaurant was near empty aside from yourself, Louis, a trio of loud drunk women in the corner and a homeless man who had scraped cents together to buy a slice of pizza. The TV above the kitchen archway providing most of the ambiance.

“What’s got you in a mood?” he asked as he cleaned.

“Ever been ditched on a blind date? I get all dolled up,” you opened your coat to show a figure hugging dress with a low neckline, coupled with an elegant necklace. “And the asshole texts me when I’m already at the lounge saying he needs a fucking rain check.”

“Okay, well he’s an ass-”

“Right!” you exclaim.

“But you need to stop scowling before you scare off my customers.” Louis playfully chided.

“Oh, cause there’s so many of them.” you waved a hand out at the restaurant to emphasize your point. Still you leaned over your coffee to stew in your own misery. You couldn’t hear the door open over the women’s third rendition of ‘I’m every woman’ but you noticed someone slide onto the bar stool next to you. You turned your head to see Bucky looking back.

“Have I seen you here before?” Bucky said playfully.

You chuckled involuntarily and sat up on your stool. “You must be mistaking me with someone else.”

He swiveled on the stool to face you fully, leaning on the counter comfortably. “You sure?” he seemed to be playing with you, a sly smirk on his face. “Could’ve sworn I met this detective lady here who looked a lot like you.”

“Was she pretty?” You pressed, a smile now sneaking it’s way onto your face without you knowing.

Bucky looked in your eyes with a soft sincerity. “Incredibly,”

You laughed nervously as you looked away and into the pool of your coffee. “Was that before or after she helped you with your job.” You deflected.

“About that,” Bucky leaned onto the counter. He was still quiet good at hiding his tells but you got the impression he was nervous by the pause. “You gave me more than I needed so I was able to do better than I planned. I know how hard it can be to trust someone. I'm not sure how to thank you for that.”

“Take her on a date!” Louis yelled from the kitchen, looking at you two through the serving window. “She’s already all ‘dolled up’” Louis mocked you.

“Keep cleaning!” you shot back. “Ignore him. He’s just dripping with sympathy since I got ditched.”

“I mean,” Bucky started, you looked over and saw him staring at his hands with nerves as his thumbs tapped against each other. “I just wouldn’t know where to take you.” he admitted under his breath.

A question instantly plagued your mind and it demanded to be asked. “Have you not...since nineteen-fifty?”

Bucky nodded with pursed lips. “You can laugh.”

You smiled at the super soldier. “Right,” you announced, pushing yourself off the stool. “Come on, I know a great dive three down.”

“A dive?” Bucky asked in disbelief, but he was still smiling.

“Yep. Where they don’t give a shit who you are as long as you're buying.” You fixed your jacket with new found enthusiasm. “You are buying, right?”

“For a doll like you,” He stood up from the stool. “I’ll buy the bar.” he held the door as you both left the little pizzeria

“Oh honey, there’s nothing like me.” you said playfully as you stepped out the door.

“Then I must be the luckiest man in the world,” he flirted, offering you his arm. You slide your hand in, curling your wrist around his bicep and off you both went.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #tfatws #tftws #reader x bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes #reader x bucky barnes #fem!reader #fem!reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #remale reader #reader insert #mcu reader insert #mcu bucky #mcu bucky barnes

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amishfruit · 3 years

Text

Lady of the Lake Ch. 2, Walk

full chapter on ao3

commissions/tips

Ahiru wakes up refreshed, stretching her lithe arms above her head and letting out a happy sigh. The house is quiet, but she can tell from where the sun is in the sky that it’s nearing time for breakfast so she gets out of bed.

“Oh, you’re already up.” He steps backwards to let her by and follows her to the table where their plates sit waiting for them.

She nods with a smile on her face, sitting down and quickly tucking into breakfast.

Fakir smiles back when she isn’t looking, enjoying his own meal more than he would without the pleasant company.

When she starts to feel full, she slows down between bites. “So, Raetsel is already at work?”

He nods, “She’ll be home again around supper time.”

“What does she do? I know she said it was a bakery but she wasn’t very specific.” Ahiru asks curiously.

“She helps some with the prep and finishing, but mostly she runs the front and handles the sales.” He explains it simply, hoping the words he’s using are familiar enough to her.

“Oh! So like, icing cookies and stuff?” Ahiru clarifies.

“Yeah… and stuff.” He agrees, not really knowing how to explain a job that he has never actually worked. “Do you still want to go to the library today?” He asks, changing the subject as they carry their plates to the sink and Ahiru begins washing.

She grins up at him where he leans with his back against the counter. “Yes please!”

He laughs at her enthusiasm, taking the clean dishes from her and drying them before putting them away. “Get your boots on,” He prompts, walking with her to the hall and entering his own room.

She quickly laces her shoes, meeting him back in the hallway where he slings a satchel over his head and holds it on his left shoulder.

“Ready?” He asks, walking to the door and waiting for her to answer before opening it.

Ahiru looks down at herself and runs through a mental checklist of all required garments, once she’s sure she has properly dressed herself, she nods and follows him out the door.

They don’t walk towards the stables and Ahiru secretly breathes a sigh of relief.

Fakir stops for her whenever she falls behind and matches her pace, the walk is no longer than 10 minutes and soon they find themselves at the door of a large building.

Holding the door open for Ahiru, he scans the room and finds the section they should start with. He leads her over to the archives, setting his satchel on a nearby table and showing her how to search through the papers. Once his notebook is set out with his quill and ink pot resting on top of the now empty satchel, he joins her in sifting through the collection of historical records. They look for mentions of memory loss, and Fakir also looks at victim reports, finding a few where the victim recounts a memory being blocked and struggling to answer questions from investigators.

The stack of papers grows tall and he suggests they sit and read through them before continuing. Ahiru agrees easily, wobbling slightly before depositing their finds safely on the table next to his things.

They sit side by side, perusing the papers one at a time.

Fakir takes notes on anything they find useful with the intent of referencing them later.

They continue like this for the next hour, library remaining mostly empty with the exception of occasional visitors that come in and out.

Around the time Ahiru starts to grow bored, someone clears their throat nearby and Fakir looks up from his notes, expression quickly growing exasperated.

“You missed your deadline.” The stranger says, voice haughty and more than a little bit annoying, “again. What’s your excuse this week?” They push their thin wired glasses up the bridge of their upturned nose as they say it.

Fakir searches his mind for a simple way to explain the events of the past few days. “Uh, family emergency?”

The stranger scoffs, flicking short navy hair out of their face. “I take it she’s involved?” They gesture towards Ahiru, who crosses her arms and shoots them a glare.

Fakir chooses not to answer, “I’ll bring the article to you tomorrow Autor, it’s not like I’m delaying publication.” He rolls his eyes, “Good thing you always set my deadline before anyone else’s.” Sarcasm laces his tone and the two men have a stare off, Autor breaking away first to turn to Ahiru.

Recognition lights up his face and he looks over at Fakir with a smirk before leaning his elbows on the table to address Ahiru. “You’re the one who walked out of the lake, aren’t you?”

She bristles, scooting back in her chair to create distance. “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

He sits across from her, earning a groan from Fakir. “I was there.” Autor shoots a look at her companion before continuing, “I bet Fakir wishes he were there with me to see it.”

It takes her a moment to grasp the connotation, turning bright red once she realizes what he’s implying. “You’re a total creep!” She hisses it in an attempt to avoid yelling, rage threatening to boil over.

Fakir is similarly angry, he grits his teeth and wills the burning in his face to subside, not wanting to give Autor any satisfaction from leaving him flustered.

Autor raises a brow, “Found yourself a real feisty one, huh Fakir?”

Ahiru lets out an angry yelp and stands up from her chair.

“Go bother someone else Autor.” Fakir grinds out.

“Yeah! We have better things to do than talk to you!” Ahiru adds, causing Fakir to wince from her less than ideal word choice.

Autor stifles a laugh, standing up from his seat. “I’ll leave you to it then.” His tone is amused and he winks at them as he walks away, leaving them to fume in peace.

“That guy is such an asshole!” Ahiru exclaims, too angry to sit back down and fists clenched.

Fakir snorts a surprised laugh, earning a confused glance from her that he waves off. “You are an excellent judge of character.”

Her anger subsides slightly and she slumps back into her seat. “Is he always like that?”

Fakir sighs. “Unfortunately, yes.”

She makes a sound close to a growl. “How can you stand him?!”

He shakes his head, “I barely tolerate him, he’s technically my boss so there’s not much else I really could do without losing my job.”

Ahiru pouts and crosses her arms. “Well he’s not mine, let me know if you want me to take care of him.” She punches a tiny fist into her other hand as she says it and he laughs again in response.

“I don’t think I’ll need you to defend my honor anytime soon, but thanks.” He looks down at her, amused. “Come on, let’s pack up and go eat lunch, I don’t think either of us will be able to focus now.”

She agrees easily, helping him carry the stacks of references back to where they had found them after he puts his writing tools back into his satchel and slings it onto his shoulder once more. She’s still irritated but the walk home helps her calm down and by the time they are inside taking off her boots she’s mostly back to normal. (...more on ao3)

#princess tutu #princess tutu fanart #ptutu #fakiru #fakir x duck #ahiru arima #princess tutu duck #princess tutu fanfiction #fanfic

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morning-glory215 · 4 years

Text

just like moths

Tommy doesn’t wear his old jacket much anymore. Even though it brought a sense of warmth, of unity, he didn’t wear it much. When they had a formal inauguration of Tubbo, a few days after the bombing, he wore it. The old thing is falling apart at the seams, just barely presentable. And yet the memories it holds are what make it so hard to throw away. Of the times when the sun was golden and there were walls to protect.

(not those walls, half-finished with a threat)

And it was also the fact that he didn’t have another jacket to hold all of his medals.

Ones shaped like the discs he still had; ones with the spread wings of a Phoenix, to represent when L’Manburg had first been bombed and they had risen above it; a flag of L’Manburg; a sword and bow to represent his tenacity; a star, to represent when they had first taken back L’Manburg from Schlatt.

When he had to wear the jacket, he felt like he was holding the hopes of a past him. Of the people he had fought for (who stare at him now, as he walks along with his little posse to face another humiliation) and the ideals he often died for.

When death was cheap, you had to make some meaning out of it.

He tries desperately not to focus on his present reality. That Tubbo was giving into Dream to placate him. So that the walls would go away. So that Dream would go away.

None of this would go away by bowing.

(and hadn’t they said they wouldn’t bow to Tommy?)

(then again, Dream wasn’t the Vice President)

Yet, here they were. Tommy stands at the forefront of their new podium, as Tubbo makes some speech to the stragglers. Dream stands so casually, leaning against a stall. This was his punishment, and Dream’s amusement.

Tommy wanted to slap that mask away and dig his fingers into -

Fundy grins next to him, his pawed hand already taking away the first of his many medals. He takes away his tenacity, then the one representing a renewed L’Manburg - the Phoenix. Quackity takes away his flag.

Then, finally, Tubbo steps forward. Tommy can see the biting bitterness in his eyes (or is he projecting?), the set of his jaw as he leans forward. First, he takes away the discs (that beloved, physical memory of their friendship) and deposits it in his pocket.

Lastly, the star. All of this was meant to strip Tommy of any pride and connection to his country.

In all matters but physical, he had no more connections.

No more honors. No more pride.

And as Tubbo tucks his star away, Tommy feels the light of their friendship dim. Tommy can remember drawing up the designs for all of those medals with Tubbo. Tubbo, who had smiled at him as he gave him back his medals as his president.

It was pretty fitting that his president would take them away, huh?

The end of the whole ceremony was like a balloon deflating. Tubbo left first, always in a hurry. Quackity left second, always something for him to do.

Fundy, however, lingers for a second.

And Tommy knows all the things left unsaid between them. They were both hurt by Wilbur (but the difference is, Tommy wishes still that Wilbur was around so that Tommy could try to fix him and Fundy wishes he was still around so that Wilbur could fix their relationship) and their moments together are always hard.

But Tommy knows, in this moment, that Fundy wants to gloat. He is already by the way he looks at him.

Fundy leaves third, with Tommy’s strength and hope in his pocket.

It’s Tommy who leaves last from L’Manburg, back to his actual home. The night air is heavy, the crickets singing and the moths floating around the lamps he had put up. His head is heavy, too - thoughts like moths that bat against the inside of his skull. Though there’s no formal declaration, Tommy knows.

He isn’t welcome back. Without his medals, which even the most basic citizen has, he has no honor. No face to show.

So he packs a bag, tears threatening to fall.

And yet, he has nowhere to go. His last living brother that isn’t Tubbo is the worst choice. And he doesn’t know if he can trust Philza (how sad that was, he couldn’t even trust his own father). The places he can turn to are slim to none.

He sits on the edge of the path outside of his home, feeling the rough edges of the wood dig into his pants and skin. He sits, and watches the moths dance without a care. Why can’t he be like them? They don’t need a home, nor friends who will eventually turn on him to placate a beast that will never stop being hungry.

Tommy notices the sound of footsteps, heavy from armor, approaching him. He doesn’t care much who it is (more to come and point and laugh at the fallen boy hero?), because he’ll be gone soon.

Yet, surprise is an understatement at who sits next to him - glittering gold armor, green and fluffy fur and a calming aura around him - so Tommy turns to look.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, unable to keep the sulk from his voice.

Even though Sam has always been kind. Always been somebody Tommy could trust wouldn’t make fun of him, or somebody who would indulge his chaotic behaviors. He was unerring, where Phil was inconsistent. He was level-headed, where Wilbur was so easy to take nosedives. He was willing to listen and change, whereas Techno wanted one thing above all.

Even though all of those were facts, something in Tommy flinches away from the kindly hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m just here as a friend.” Sam says softly, and Tommy can’t help but lean into him. “What happened?”

Tommy feels an anger inside of him boil up and he can’t stop the bitter words.

“Tubbo is listening to Dream! Not me! We fought a war together against him!” Tommy feels the tears finally slipping away. “What the fuck is that about?!”

Sam hums and hugs Tommy closer. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t insert his own opinions and lets Tommy rant. Sometimes, when it’s clear Tommy wants him to say something, he does. It’s almost refreshing to have someone listen to him, when it always feels like he’s walking on eggshells with others.

“And - and, now I have nowhere else to go.” Tommy grips at his packed bag, then at his home.

He’s so fucking hopeless

But Sam somehow sees something in him.

“I have room.” He says it so simply, and Tommy blinks. “We can work on a room for you, and you know how secluded I am.”

Somewhere secluded.

Somebody who holds no scorn for his mere name.

Tommy almost wants to say no. He doesn’t want to leave behind the lamps with their moths, the land he had fought for, the people he still loves - even when they can’t spare him the same luxury. Why did he fight so hard, when punishment for things others did was his fate?

Why not be a little selfish?

“Yeah.” Tommy wipes his face furiously against his arms (scarred with his warring and loving too much) and nods. “Yeah. I’ll come with you.”

Sam smiles and Tommy feels like, just for a second, he can put his worries to the side.

And as they both stand, Tommy realizes something.

The jacket.

“Hey, before we go, can I go and put my jacket away?”

And of course Sam nods. Tommy feels a sense of relief as he walks past the moths that hit the lamps. As he puts the jacket on his old bed, he folds it neatly and stares at it. It had been a piece of who he was. A foolish, but loving, boy - who fought and roared and loved with his very being.

People over places, he had told himself.

Tommy leaves without a second glance, follows Sam like a moth to a lamp.

Perhaps, Tommy thinks, he’s been around too many lamps - that will, eventually, burn his wings away and leave him a husk. But he has faith that does not seem misplaced anymore, with Sam. He will find warmth and sanctuary with him.

Tommy doesn’t need his old jacket anymore to make him feel any kind of warmth of a fire long gone.

#tommyinnit #tubbo #fundy #awesamedude #dream smp #dreamwastaken #writing #my writing #yooo shoutout to @gheysnakelady for sitting w me as i wrote this LMAO #will post this to ao3 later <3

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