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sebstan2020 · 2 years

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The Rise of Hydra

Chapter 12

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Original Female Character

Warnings: Violence, Dom/Sub, Kidnapping, Hostage, Gun Violence, Corruption Kink, Forced Behaviour, Manipulation, Light Bondage, Captive

Summary: Being the President’s daughter hasn’t always been easy. Constantly having someone over your shoulder, rarely getting a minutes privacy except for being in bedroom and it wasn’t any different for Violet. Not to mention working as a junior doctor which was stressful enough. But things were about to turn more difficult for her. With Hydra rising once again, planning to take over the country and rule it the way they wanted it to be, Violet finds herself caught between the war and a hostage to their secret weapon, the Winter Soldier.

Steve wondered down the halls of the Stark tower, arms swinging by his sides as he made his way to the lab where Natasha, Tony, Clint, and Sam were. They had called for a meeting to discuss and update everyone on the Hydra situation and the kidnapping of Violet. Steve felt it was his mission to bring back Violet. He’d only met her twice, their awkward meeting after he used the bathroom had played in his head over and over and he couldn’t get the sweet and innocent girl off his mind.

Which was probably why he felt so compelled and focused to bring her back safely. It wasn’t just because she was the daughter of the president who he was currently helping as well but because he knew Hydra were dangerous and would go to any length to destroy this country and the people running it just to get what they wanted. They were using her as bait and Steve did admit it was a good play from them, using the president’s daughter against him.

John and his family were currently under strict measures to not leave the white house just encase Hydra were waiting around the corner for them. The last thing they needed was more people getting hurt or possibly taken hostage by Hydra. Steve reached the double doors of the lab and pushed them open with his strength, barely even having to give any force to open them. The four of them were stood by one of the tall tables, files, and a computer in the middle.

“About time you showed up” Tony joked as Steve joined the gang.

“Can’t all be as eager as you Stark” Steve said back, a slight smile on his lips as he did.

“So, what do we have” Steve asked, crossing his arms.

“Barton and I scouted out for as many Hydra bases as we could, there’s a list of them, they’re all-around country, there’s one in Siberia but I doubt they’ve taken her there, too far and not easy access if they needed to use her” Natasha informed the group and Steve nodded.

“So, they are in Washington still” Steve confirmed more than asked. It made sense for Violet to be in Washington still for Hydra’s use.

“Do you have the locations?” Tony asked, tapping away on a tablet he had in his hand.

“We managed to download every address but there’s far too many, she could be in any of these” Natasha gestured to the files and Steve huffed. It wasn’t going to be a simple case of going to every Hydra base and searching, there was no time. Every minute Hydra were getting closer to world domination and the more leverage they had on the president and the Avengers, the closer they were to winning.

Sam took one of the files and started to flip through, seeing if there was anything that stood out to him while the others continued updating.

“What about that algorithm Tony” Steve asked, and Tony nodded his head to the side.

“Nearly done, I accessed those files again and tried to gain as much information on Zola’s one. I was thinking of creating a disarming chip to place in their system and disable the algorithm all together so it could never be used but it was proving more difficult that I thought so I created a new algorithm, one that destroys the hell carriers and locks them as their targets” Tony moved to a station behind him, picking up a glass container with three small chips inside, glowing bright blue.

“All we need is to remove one chip and replace it with this one and the whole thing will blow up”.

“That’s easier said than done, I’m sure S.H.I.E.L.D base is swarming with Hydra” Clint retaliated.

“Nothing a little hard work won’t pay off Barton” Tony smiled back.

“How’s the president” Sam asked, and Steve sighed. He had been in connections with the president, keeping tabs and updates on what was happening. His concern for his daughter was growing and sooner or later it would reach a point where he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

“He’s struggling, or so I hear. Hydra know what they are doing which is why we need to get Violet back before it’s too late, the president will only sit and listen for so long before he cracks”.

“Well, he might not have to wait” Sam smirked, holding up the file and the attention of everyone was drawn on him. He smacked the file onto the desk and pointed at the page he was on.

“Look at this, all these locations are within public areas, the bank, S.H.I.E.L.D base, training camp… except this one which isn’t a base but a safehouse” Steve spun the file around so he could read it, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at the locations.

“So, what, that doesn’t mean much” Natasha shrugged.

“You said they had someone to do their bidding, this… Winter Soldier. He’s the one that took her. Hydra are way too busy to sit around and look after a young hostage, my guess is she and Barnes are hiding there. it’s out of sight but still close so that if Hydra needed her, she’s only a quick helicopter ride away” Sam shrugged at the end, folding his arms.

“He could be right you know” Tony agreed, and Sam gave a sideways glance, face tightening but relaxed soon after.

“You think we should look there?” Clint asked, tapping his fingers on the counter.

“It’s worth a shot, but we’ll need to be prepared, we can’t just bust in and hope we win. Judging by what you said Tony he’s hard to beat and we don’t know the condition Violet is in” Steve said, and the group agreed.

“I have a few adjustments to make on the algorithm still and then it will be up and running” Tony went back to his tablet, typing away, head buried in the bright screen.

“We need to find out when they are going to release those hell carriers, we can make our move then” Sam said.

“Jasper Sitwell, he was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent but infiltrated under Hydra, we can get information from him” Natasha suggested, buckling up her leather jacket.

“You three see if you can locate him and get some answers, Tony work on that algorithm and see what we can get access to, jet, helicopter, anything so we have a quick escape, I’ll update the President and update you if there’s any Hydra activity” Steve delegated the jobs to the group who all nodded and agreed. Steve turned on his heel, whipping out his phone to update the president, a strong but nervous feeling inside him as he knew this was going to be a tough mission but one, he wasn’t afraid to take. The good thing was that they had a lead on where Violet could be and as long as they are right, he would be able to bring her home.

Steve rung the number he was given to contact the president. He felt strange being able to just ring the number and be able to talk to the most powerful man of the country. But this was a rare circumstance and he needed quick access to him. It was too dangerous to turn up at the white house every time they needed to talk. It didn’t take a genius for Hydra to know the Avengers were working with the president and Steve was cautiously on the lookout wherever he went.

The phone only rung once before it was picked up, the groggy voice of John Fitzgerald talking back to him.

“Captain Rogers, what do you have for me?” he cut straight to the chase.

“Mr President, I’ve just had a meeting with the others, we think we’ve managed to locate where your daughter is at, we can’t say for certain it’s defiantly this place but looking at the information we have and the facts, it’s most likely they are hiding in a safehouse we believe. Mr Stark has been creating the algorithm to destroy the hell carriers” he informed him, and John sighed heavily.

“Oh, thank God, are you certain she’s there?” he asked, and Steve stopped in his tracks, one hand on his hip.

“I’ll be honest Mr President, I cannot say for definite, but I think she is, my team and I are preparing to head there soon but we need to know when Hydra are going to release those hell carriers. Have they been in contact with you, any threats?” Steve asked nervously. He didn’t want to tell the president there could be a chance his daughter wasn’t where they think she is and that there are hundreds of Hydra bases that it could be nearly impossible to find her in the short amount of time they had but he did his best.

“Yes, Hydra are trying to access FBI data and I have intel that a few agents have been uncover for Hydra. They haven’t threatened but it’s only a matter of time before they do. I believe they liquidate them and only have Hydra. Most likely they want data on Hydra agents who have been investigated”.

“I didn’t realise the FBI dealt with this sort of thing”.

“They don’t but a few seeped through the cracks so they took over but that’s the only thing I’ve heard. I’ve had no correspondence from Hydra and nothing on my daughter” John sounded a little teary on the phone and Steve took a soft breath.

“I promise you Mr President I will get your daughter back, she’s out priority as well as those hell carriers. Once we change the algorithm, the only targets will be them and then Hydra are finished” Steve was firm in his voice and certain in his head and heart.

“Thank you, Steve, … I can count on you to do this”.

Chapter 13

Hey so I hope you liked this chapter, I wanted to give a view from the Avengers side and tell you what they are planning so that the story flows a bit better. Let me know what you think in the comments and don’t forget to like and reblog

#bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes dom #Bucky Barnes fanficiton #Bucky Barnes x female character #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #Captain America the winter soldier #marvel

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littlemissnoname13 · 3 years

Note

hi could you please make a part two to feeling colors, i LOVED your writing in it. no rush :))

Hiii nonnie! 💕 I did end up writing a second part for the fic after all. I hope you like it as much as the first. X

Feeling Colours - Part Two

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Word count: 2500 give or take

Summary: Draco’s feelings for the reader start to grow

Warnings: fluff, excessive drinking, mentions of throwing up, kissing, nothing explicit, Draco being a softie (lmk if this needs more warnings)

Masterlist | Part One

Your eyes fluttered open to find Draco Malfoy sitting on a chair next to you, breathing quietly like sleep was finally hitting him. Ruffled blond strands of hair fell over his weary eyes and he’d used his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.

Your first instinct was to silently lift up your covers and check if your clothes were still intact and thank Merlin they were.

“Have a little faith Y/n.” Draco grumbled, startling you in the process as he struggled to lift himself into a more comfortable position. “I would never take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Fragments of the previous night came back to you when you heard him say that.

The party, the burn of the booze, the dust-filled broom closet, the throwing up, the taste of soup and the strong and sturdy arms of the boy now looking at you with a sheepish grin on his face.

You eased at the sight of his smile. There came a certain type of comfort after someone had seen you throwing your guts up.

“Thank you for last night Draco.”

“Like I said before Miss raging alcoholic, Don’t make a habit of it.” He let out a small yawn and started to smooth out his hair but much to his dismay, the strands refused to cooperate.

You couldn't help but laugh at the displeased look on his face. “Here, let me—”

“NO. I absolutely refuse to let you touch my hair.” He protested, grabbing both your wrists before your fingers could make contact with his precious hair.

“Come on Malfoy.” You pleaded, now fully out of bed and trying to break free from his hands. “I swear I can fix it for you.”

“Nope.” He said firmly as he tried his hardest to maintain a straight face. “Stop it—No please not the sides—no..”

“Please, just a bit more...ah okay….there we go.”

“Haven’t you done enough Hufflepuff?!”

“Oh. that rhymed.” You laughed, still touching his hair when the two of you accidently tumbled onto the chair he was originally sleeping on.

Draco was agile in cushioning your fall with one of his hands balancing himself on the armrest and one hand wrapped around your waist.

It was only the second time he’d saved you from falling and you were already getting used to it.

Something inside of you was immediately hoping that Draco would be there to break your fall for a third time too.

It felt good with him.

It felt safe with him.

~~~

Alone at the school courtyard in the afternoon of the next day, Draco sat down in a far corner to rearrange his cluttered thoughts about you into tidy little compartments in his brain.

It should have been easy for him. He was a natural occlumens after all.

But for some bizarre reason, he couldn't find a way to erase your name, the sound of your voice and your scent that was slowly dominating all four lobes of his brain and all four chambers of his heart.

Even with the sun still in the sky, the occasional gust of wind made his hands turn cold so he instinctively shoved his hands into his blazer pocket to warm up.

It was only then that he realised that he’d completely forgotten to give your locket back to you.

~~~

A few days had now passed and Draco had gotten several opportunities to give your necklace back to you.

First it was at the great hall.

He watched you intently from the Slytherin table, waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk to you while you nibbled on a cupcake.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he watched you lick the powdery pink frosting off your Peony lips.

He wasn’t all that fond of those cupcakes you were eating but he’d have done anything for a taste of the frosting from your lips.

Before he could even manage to walk over to you, you stood up and walked away with your friends.

When you were close to the exit however, you paused and turned towards the Slytherin table to give him a tiny smile.

He quickly reached into his pocket to look at the locket, it was the exact pink shade of the frosting.

~~~

The second time he tried to return it was at Potions class.

Theo had so graciously agreed to switch partners with Draco and Snape did not seem to mind as long as the potions were brewed right.

“Crush the petals as best you can before dropping them into the cauldron.” Snape instructed and you quickly grabbed a fistfull of rose petals.

Draco watched in awe as you crushed rose petals in your hands, releasing the floral aroma into the atmosphere. The scent caught onto clothes and a flush crept onto his face.

“Well, are you going to help me, Malfoy?”

Draco silently copied your motion and stirred the cauldron till the potion was simmering and ready.

Returning your locket in the middle of Severus’s class did not seem like a smart idea so he decided to come up with a better one.

“We are having another party in the dungeons on Friday. You should come and bring Abott if you’d like.” Draco shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing ever.

“Will there be elf made wine?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he let out a rather loud scoff earning the attention of the sulky potion’s master.

“Malfoy, Y/l/n.” Snape called out, looking as unimpressed as ever. “Detention.Saturday.”

“Incorrigible.” Draco muttered and you nudged him in the rib with your elbow.

“Two Saturdays.” Snape said, before dismissing the entire class.

On his way out, Draco discreetly sneaked a peak of the necklace in his pocket because he already knew what colour it was going to be.

It was the exact same pink of the rose petals you were crushing.

~~~

Two days had gone by since potions class and Draco was no longer fazed when the necklace emulated the same shades of pink from the bubblegum you were blowing or the fuschia ribbon in your hair.

Draco also didn’t think it was necessary to make another attempt to return your necklace until Friday.

He already had a lot of things preoccupying his mind like actually planning the party.

There had been no Slytherin Party planned for Friday before Draco invited you and now, He was getting his friends to help him arrange one.

Crabbe and Goyle were tasked with getting more liquor, Blaise and Theo were responsible for music and food while Draco was responsible with the overall logistics like silencing charms and getting the word of the party out.

“All this for a girl.” Blaise mocked. Theo took this moment to whisper something to Crabbe who then whispered something to Goyle.

“Care to say it out loud, Nott?” Draco seethed as he watched his friends clutch their stomachs and laugh out loud.

“Theo called you a simp.” A teary eyed Goyle spluttered.

“A what now?”

~~~

Friday’s party topped the previous one.

More people, A wider selection of liquor, wine varietals, good food and music blasting so loud that the floors were vibrating.

As per usual, Hannah had already disappeared into some dark little corner with her paramour leaving you all alone with a group of Slytherin girls.

“I love your dress!” Exclaimed a tipsy looking Daphne Greengrass who herself was wearing a gorgeous turquoise number.

“Thank you.” You replied, giving her your most polite and friendly smile.

“Come now, let's go and dance already.” Pansy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at the interaction. Although it wasn’t super obvious, you sensed that Pansy wasn’t too pleased to have you there.

Daphne intertwined her hands to yours and pulled you into the dancefloor with herself, Pansy Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode.

Daphne’s surprisingly amiable nature took you by surprise but you decided to go with it. It was a party after all.

When she placed her hands on your shoulders, you mirrored. When she swayed her hips, so did you.

“He can't stop staring at you now, can he?” Daphne shouted into your ear over the music as you both continued to dance together.

“I’m sorry who?” You shouted back.

“Malfoy.” Daphne giggled. “ He’s been watching you all night actually. Why do you think he hosted this party in the first place?”

You stole a quick glance at Draco when no one was looking. He was sipping on a glass of whisky and watching you from a distance.

He had ditched his all black attire for a white button down shirt. The top two buttons were undone and his hair had a sort of laid back look to it

“See?” Daphne shouted again. “Hasn’t even taken his eyes off you once. It's driving Pansy nuts.”

Just to confirm if Daphne was in fact telling the truth, you tilted your head to the side to get a bitter view of him and the minute you did, your eyes met with his.

Heat spread all across your cheeks and he raised his glass to you as an acknowledgement before quickly turning away.

After that, it was just an intense and tactical little gambit of who caught who staring.

He covertly watched you sway your hips and you secretly noticed the way he tapped his fingertips on the glass he was holding.

Both of you refused to relent to whatever game this was up until the point where he grabbed a bottle of fire whisky and started to walk away.

You didn't even need to think twice about where he was headed.

“Go on.” Daphne nudged encouragingly.

~~~

Draco pulled the closet door open and stepped inside with a smile playing at his lips.

The last time he was there, he was introduced to you, your scent, your smile, your eyes.

Before that night in the closet, he took colours at their face value. They were nothing more than visual representations of light—what amount, what hue, what saturation.

It was strange how things had changed for him.

Not only did you make him see colours in a whole new light, you made him feel them, you made him hear them.

As Draco settled down with his drink, he saw the door creak open.

It was still dark but he could already tell that it was you by the scent of your perfume. Oh, he could never ever forget that aroma even if he tried.

Lumos.

Draco held his wand in front of him and allowed himself to turn to his side to get a better view of you.

Never had he ever seen someone glow the way you did under the lumos charm. The radiance in your eyes, the pearlescence of your skin and the curvature of your lips made him lightheaded.

“I feel like this closet is going to be a recurring thing for us huh?” You beamed at him and he found himself swooning.

Salazar Slytherin. Nott was right. He was a simp.

“I guess so.” Draco quickly answered, Blaming this dizziness on the lack of ventilation while taking a big sip of his drink.

“I don’t mind.” You said and twisted open the bottle of wine you’d brought with you.

“Don’t tell me you brought another bottle of that god awful wine in here.”

“It’s actually not that bad and it gets you drunk way quicker.” You shrugged.

“Why do I feel like I might have to walk you to your dorm again?”

He watched you take a long slow sip of wine and couldn’t help himself from noting that your lips were slowly getting stained red with the fruity nectar.

“Might?” You shook your head. “Sorry to break it to you, but this wine is going to catch up with me soon.”

Draco jokingly palmed his face, earning a laugh from you. It seemed like the perfect time to hand you your lost possession back.

“Atleast, I’ll know when you are going to be sick though.” Draco said as he fished for the locket in his pocket.

“How come?”

“Because of this.” He explained, holding the necklace out. “I’m sorry I should have given it back sooner.”

“That’s okay.” You murmured softly and pushed your hair away from your neck and he instantly took this as a cue to drape the necklace back to where it belonged.

“Ah…there you go.” He whispered into your ear before shifting back to look at the gem.

Draco expected it to be pink but to his astonishment, the gem had already turned a vibrant red.

A new colour.

He could see red in the apples of your cheeks.

He could feel red pumping through his veins and hear red in the way his heart was rapidly beating.

“It’s red.” You commented and he slowly nodded.

Even though he knew what red was for him, he needed to hear your interpretation before making his next move.

“What does red mean to you y/n?”

“To me, well…..red represents um..passion, something fiery, something that burns bright, leaves you breathless.” You whispered looking as if you were feeling almost as breathless as him.

Draco swallowed hard when he noticed just how close your face was to his.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“If I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?”

He noticed that your breathing was progressively getting shorter. You looked startled at his sudden question but held his gaze nonetheless.

“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself, Draco.”

He couldn’t help but let out a hoarse chuckle before pressing his forehead to yours. “Is that an invitation hm?”

You didn’t say a word but the deepening red color of your necklace gave everything away.

Any remaining doubt in his mind went away when he felt you caress his cheeks with your cold hands.

He gently let his fingers slip into your hair as he closed the distance between your lips.

The kiss was reminiscent of the rush of first love. The innocence, the giggles.

The kiss paid homage that perfumed night in the broom closet that had started it all.

The kiss was bleeding, seeping, trickling In various shades of red and he was drinking every drop.

Draco Malfoy could finally tell what the colour red tasted like.

It tasted like your wine stained lips.

He backed away and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you gave him a shy smile in return.

~~~

The two of you spent the remainder of the party inside the closet.

Drinking, talking, laughing and more kissing.

So much kissing.

“Alright y/n, let’s get you to your room now shall we?” Draco sighed when he noticed that you were getting more and more inebriated by the minute. “Come on.”

You struggled to step out of the closet and almost tripped on your own two drunken feet.

Almost.

“As if I’m going to let you fall face first.” He mumbled to himself before lifting you up in his arms.

You let out a small laugh before looking up at him.

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you said to not make a habit of this but unfortunately for you, I already have.”

FIN.

~~~

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#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfiction #draco x reader fluff #draco fluff #draco one shot #draco fic #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x yn #draco x you

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sunfish-studies · 3 years

Text

Acceptance

✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm (along 5’7’’). This is just my appreciation towards tall girls, you guys are amazing!

Previous: ‹ Worth › | Next: ‹ Greed ›

↷ SUMMARY ↶

Acceptance; that’s what you’re searching for this whole time.

“OOOH!”

You stopped on your steps, immediately stiffened from the sudden loud voice–resulting someone bumping into you quite hard. Stumbling on your feet, the person immediately had their grip onto your arm–preventing you to kiss the ground face first.

“Sorry, you okay?” looking over your shoulder rather stiffly, eyes resting on the figure towering over your figure (still, the top of your head reached his cheek bone, but he’s tall alright). That and he had a rather… unique black, spiky hair.

“T-thank you,” you replied meekly.

“Sorry about him, he means no harm,” the taller boy apologized for his friend over there who… cried and kneeled on the ground? Is this having something to do with your existence!? Your height!? Anything!?

“There’re three girls now! Now they’ve got a pretty one, a cute one, and a model-like one!”

“Is he okay, though…?” you questioned, feeling the taller boy letting go of your hand and proceeded to pat your head lightly–which kind of reminds you of Daichi’s gesture.

“Yes, sadly.” He sighed in resignation. “Oh, by the way, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. Third year, Nekoma’s captain, and this is the first time I see you around, along with that girl over there.”

The boy, Kuroo, pointed to Yachi’s figure who’s escorted by Kiyoko–you thought she somehow forgot about you, but you instantly erased the thought from your mind when noticing her not so subtle glare directed towards Kuroo.

“Ah, I just became an official manager yesterday,” you said, finding talking to Kuroo comfortable–he did kind of intimidating for his height, still standing taller over you. Maybe he’s almost 190 cm. However, he exudes this comforting aura much like Daichi as a captain. “My name is Otohaku [Name] and the girl you mentioned before is Yachi Hitoka, she’s my classmate.”

“That explains a lot.” Kuroo hummed. “And I have to say, this is the first time I’ve seen a girl as tall as you. At least Yamamoto is right about the model-like part.”

Instantly, you found your face hot as if it was engulfed with fire–stealing a laugh from him and earning another hair ruffle for you.

“I’m happy you’re getting along with our manager and all,” Daichi soon interrupted by pushing his way in between you and Kuroo while removing the captain’s hand from your head. He smiled, but his smile was far than nice–which made you swallowed thickly even though it’s not directed towards you. “But, not too close, would you?”

“They screamed powerhouses already,” you muttered, watching teams practicing. “Especially the dark blue ones.”

“You have good eyes,” Coach Ukai suddenly said, making you turn to face him. “That’s Fukurodani Academy.”

“Fukurodani…?” your eyes slowly widened in disbelief, trying process the extremely familiar name in your brain. “The Fukurodani Academy? One of the top players in Japan is in that school.”

“Just like Ushiwaka, he’s one of the top five aces heading to nationals.” Takeda-sensei continued.

“Bokuto Kotaro.” Somehow you couldn’t control your inner monologue and just plain blurted it, earning a surprised look from the older men and your girls. Also magically, the person you just mentioned immediately snapped his head to look over his shoulder and looking straight at you. He immediately grinned and you tried to reply back with a nervous smile and a wave.

“[Name]-chan, how did you know that!?” Yachi asked.

“Well, my big brother hasn’t shut up about him, so,”

“Your brother is a player, Otohaku?” Coach Ukai asked. “That’s why your last name sounded familiar for a reason.”

“Does Otohaku Hisahito sounded familiar to you?”

“I’ve seen him in the volley magazine,” Coach Ukai nodded in understanding. “He’s a candidate for one of the top middle blockers for around three years. He’s sure has an impact in plays.”

“To think [Name]-chan has connection with a very famous person,” Shimizu chuckled.

“Hey, hey, hey!” There’re so many unexpected things happened in one day and you wondered on how your heart could keep up with it. One of them would be this–being approached by one of the top five aces in the country. “You’re from Karasuno, right? The assistant coach!”

“Bokuto-san, don’t decide their position on your own. You’re being rude.”

“But she looks like one!”

“I’m sorry for his poor introduction skills.” The black-haired boy with calm atmosphere apologized–he has a really contrast personality with Bokuto. “My name is Akaashi Keiji, and this is Bokuto Kotaro-san. The captain of Fukurodani team.”

“Uhm, nice to meet you. I’m Karasuno’s manager, first year. Otohaku [Name].” you bowed slightly to show your respect.

“What!? You’re a manager!? And a first year!?” maybe it’s instinct or his outgoing personality much like Hinata, he didn’t hesitate to close the gap and stood only a few centimeters away from you. “You’re so tall, though! It’s awesome! Man, first years this time are really something!”

“Bokuto-san, you’re being too close.” Akaashi interrupted and slightly tugged on the captain’s shirt, preventing him from taking another step forward and ended up scaring you away.

“But, Akaashi look at her!” Bokuto didn’t even hesitate to point at you enthusiastically. “She’s only a little bit shorter than me!”

Getting away from Akaashi’s grip, he threw an arm around you and plainly pressed his cheek on top of your head–where your height stopped. It all happened too fast to the point your brain short-circuited. “See!”

Akaashi’s brow twitched. “Bokuto-san, you’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Excuse me,” Sugawara interrupted with a smile, however, the smile was far from friendly–dark auras looming behind him menacingly, which made Bokuto stiffened. Why? Because it was directed to him. “Could we have our dearest manager back, please?”

“Of course, we apologize if we took her time,” Akaashi said and pulled on Bokuto’s shirt to drag him away, essentially saving him from Sugawara’s wrath.

“Wuaah, it’s finally nice to meet you!” Ubugawa’s manager, Miyanoshita Eri, didn’t think twice to tackle you into a hug–sending you two sprawling onto the laid futon. You yelped in surprise as your back hit the fluffy material. “Sorry, you’re just so pretty!”

“Yeah, you have to know that Bokuto hasn’t shut up about you for even a second!” one of Fukurodani’s manager, Shirofuku Yukie, commented.

“Our boys are also getting rather distracted!” Shinzen’s manager, Otaki Mako, nodded and smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t judge them because I’m distracted too! Who’s not when they see a pretty lady not far away?”

“I guess [Name]-chan has her own charms between the boys,” Shimizu giggled, enjoying seeing you flustered.

“Riiight?” Suzumeda Kaori grinned widely. “Everyone’s more fired up than before.”

“By the way, how do you have this kind of height?” Eri questioned, loosening her arms around your shoulders. “Do you do intense sports or workout?”

“It’s genes, actually,” you answered, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. “My dad’s around 190 cm and my mom’s around 180 cm. Both of them are athletes.”

“That explains a lot,” Yukie hummed in understanding. “Just like Nekoma’s really tall first-year. He’s half Russian I guess.”

“H-half? That’s amazing,” Yachi stuttered.

“I could just imagine [Name]-chan being flaunted on in school!” Mako hugged her pillow close to her chest. “Ah, a goddess among mortals-“

“People… don’t like my height,” it’s rude for cutting her off, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it tasted extremely bitter upon your tongue. “The boys said I’m too tall and girls are supposed to be petite. The girls don’t want to get too close because I’m a giant, they’re intimidated. I… kind of wish I was smaller…”

“WHAT!? WHO SAID THAT!?” Yukie shrieked full of disgust. “How dare they judge you by appearance!?

“[Name]-chan, I need names! Names!” Kaori demanded, placing firm hands upon your shoulders and shook. “And I will strangle their neck tomorrow!”

“Please don’t murder anyone!” you raised your hands in front of your chest instinctively.

“Who do we have to kill tomorrow, girls?” Eri smiled darkly.

“Anyway, don’t listen to them, okay!?” Mako added. “You’re absolutely gorgeous!”

“Y-you have our backs, [Name]-chan!” Yachi followed. “W-we’ll fight them!”

“We and besides, if the boys somehow heard about this, there will be homicide.” Shimizu smirked.

Their support and full acceptance were alien to you.

“Thank you.”

Alien but you couldn’t help to feel warmth blooming in your chest–because this was something you’re looking for a long time.

379 notes · View notes

bordemm · 3 years

Text

𝐵𝑅𝐴𝑇(𝑈𝑆𝐻𝐼𝐽𝐼𝑀𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝐾𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑆𝐻𝐼)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs:sᴍᴜᴛ,ғᴀᴄᴇғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ,ᴍᴀɴ ʜᴀɴᴅʟɪɴɢ,ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ,ᴅᴇɢʀᴀɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏᴍ ᴜsʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ

ᴜsʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:ʏᴏᴜʀᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜsʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ ᴘᴜᴛs ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ:2672

ɴsғᴡ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ

Large would be an understatement. There was something that lit a fire in Ushijima that he didn’t know he had, there's something about the way you looked so small standing next to him that made his pants a tad tighter than they should’ve been. Ushijima was not a small or gentle man by any means but when he was holding your hand as you two walked down the street his hand would cradle yours like you were made of glass. The stares you would get when seen together were obvious and anyone could read their faces. You looked like a small lamb next to the big bad wolf. You didn’t care for the stares they didn’t bother you or ushijima, the both of you were content in the small bubble you had.

“Toshi” you said looking up at your boyfriend tugging his sleeve a little, he looked down at you without a word waiting for you to tell him why you called for him

“Can we go home?” you asked looking around the packed venue, it was a party for the national team and of course Ushijima was invited and he spent all day fighting with the people up top to allow him to bring you, it’s not that you were unable to care for yourself or that you couldn’t stand to be apart from ushijima, no that wasn’t it at all. Ushijima knew he wouldn’t be able to get through this night without you by his side, you were an anchor to the giant. Something that brought him comfort, you could read Ushijima well because you had no other choice. Wakatoshi was a man of few words in front of others but with you he felt as though he couldn't stop his lips from moving, it was ironic truly, such a small thing like you couldn provide so much comfort to the tree of a man.

Ushijima looked down at you shaking his head no, you let out a sigh before trailing behind him as you guys walked through the crowd getting to the table. The organizers of the party let you come under one condition; you and wakatoshi would have to wear matching outfits. You didn’t mind but you weren’t expecting Wakatoshi to look so good in red. The dark crimson clashing perfectly against his tan skin and olive green eyes lit a fire in your belly. You wanted to go home not because you were bored, no you were wet embarrassingly so. The way his shirt was too tight showing off his muscular chest and his broad shoulders made you cross your legs trying to relieve the ache. Ushijimia wasn’t completely clueless, you two have been together for some time now, though he isn’t much of a talker it gives him the advantage, Ushijima can read you like a book.

You watched as Kageyama bounded over to you adjusting his suit jacket, you went to whisper one of the many dirty thoughts you were having only for wakatoshi to grip your thigh,dipping his head down to let his warm breath fan over your ear.

“Behave” is all he said but that six letter word made your pussy become even wetter than before. You squirmed in discomfort your panties sticking to your vagina like a second skin, ushijima squeezed your thigh harder as another warning as Kageyama came and took a seat at the table

“Hi (y/n) it’s good to see you” Kageyama said politely you nodded back giving him a sincere smile

“It’s nice to see you Tobio, how have you been?” you said making small talk with the setter to distract yourself from the oozing mess that you were sure is ruining your panties. Ushijima didn’t say anything or chime into your conversation as more people from the team came to the table, everyone sitting and talking.

“You know it (y/n) you’re spoiled!” Bokuto exclaimed making you giggle shaking your head

“I’m not! It’s not my fault toshi takes care of me” you said leaning into ushijima who just draped his heavy arm over your shoulders.

“Oh you take care of her ushiwaka?” atsumu teased making you roll your eyes

“I provide for (y/n) in any way she needs, as a partner should” he said taking a sip of his drink

“Well (y/n) if ushijima ever doesn’t provided for your more ‘personal’ needs i’d be more than happy to” atsumu said at this ushijima snapped his head back toward the conversation just in time to hear your response

“Oh really? How sweet of you Miya, i might have to take you up on the offer” you teased, wakatoshi knew what game you were playing and you knew just as well as him that if you didn’t cut it out you were really going to be in for it.

“Yeah? There has to be a closet round here somewhere” Atsumu said

“Watch it Miya” ushijima’s dark voice sliced through the conversation making Atsumu nervously chuckled and you sank in your seat

You didn’t let that stop you though, you continued to shamelessly flirt with Atsumu. Ushijima didn’t stop you wanting to see how far you’d dig your grave, deciding you’ve had your fun and now it was his turn, he stood up before standing you up from your seat by your arm with ease.

“We are leaving, let’s go brat” he said his voice uncharastically harsh, you became flustered strutting over your words as Ushijima dragged you away from the table, his grip nearly bruising. As you guys were making your way to the exit wakatoshi’s PR manager stopping you guys at the door pleading him to stay

“No i can’t stay, i have to teach this brat manners” he said, jerking your arm little as he openly referred to you as a brat in front of his manager, you knew you were in trouble by the lack of a filter he had right now. His poor manger stunned just stepped to the side letting you guys through

Timeskip

The sight in front of ushijima was delicious, you were sprawled over his lap your asscheeks an angry red color as his large left hand came down swatting you again making you yelp

“13, thank you daddy” you said placing your hand flat on the floor because of the force of ushijima’s spank sent you forward.

“Stop squirming slut” he hissed bringing you back up on his lap

“M’ sorry daddy” you whimpered hoping he would have mercy

“No you aren’t, not yet” he said spanking you again this time on the right asscheek

“14, thank you daddy” you said gripping onto his thighs to steady yourself

“Did you enjoy behaving like a cock hungry whore in front of everyone?” He asked, his voice booming off the walls of your shared bedroom. You shook your head no, earning you another spank.

“You can’t be that dumb, use your words slut” he said, his words going straight to your sopping cunt

“No daddy just missed you” you confessed which wasn’t a lie this was ushijima’s first night home in 2 months. Ushijima let out a sigh sitting you up so you were straddling him. He hand came up cupping your cheek his calloused thumb wiping away a tear

“So that’s why you were acting like a bitch in heat? Missed daddy?” he said his voice sincere you nodded sniffling nuzzling your head into his hand

“I’m sorry princess, i know i’m gone a lot” he said running his large hands up and down your spine making you shiver

“But you know better, and if i don’t punish you now you’ll keep thinking with that pussy instead of your head” he said gently before shoving you off his lap onto the floor in front of him. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he stood above you, if you felt small before, you were truly dwarfed in this position. The 6’4 man towered over you before giving you a nod allowing you to reach up to his dress pants with shaky hands unzipping them and pulling them down along with his briefs, his thick cock coming up and bobbing against his muscular abdomen.

“Now make yourself useful,” he commanded. You immediately took the head of his cock into your warm mouth and quickly enveloped him as you suckled on his tip, never taking anymore than that into your mouth. Ushijima rolled his eyes before cradling the entirety of your head with one hand slamming his length down your mouth the tip ramming into the back of your throat, you squealed around him sending vibrations up his cock making him groan.

“suck” he said, you followed his instructions hollowing your cheeks around him bobbing your head around him and pumping what couldn’t fit in your mouth in your hands that dwarfed around his thick cock. Ushijima allowed you to keep this pace for a while before placing both of his hands on this side of your head making you look up at him your swollen lips around the middle of his cock

“Don’t forget to breathe, and tap me twice if it becomes too much. Blink twice if you understand me” he said dominant persona dropping for a second. Your heart swirled with love over his tenderness with you. You blinked twice letting some tears fall.

Ushijima regained his dominance snapping his hips forcing more of his thick cock down your raw throat. His pace was relentless as he spewed filth telling you how much a good whore you were, asking if you had gotten what you were begging for. You couldn't respond only allowing a stream of whimpers to leave your throat.

Ushijima finally pulled out, leaving a string of saliva connecting your bruised lips to tip his heavy cock, you gulped down the air greedily huffing and puffing. Ushijima allowed you to collect yourself till he picked you up easily before tossing you down on the bed.

“If i were to put theses fingers” he said suckling on his fingers before pushing two of his thick digits into your pussy making you moan

“In here and press here” he said curling his fingers to effortlessly pushing against the spongy spot inside you making you moan even louder

“Would you cum for me?” he asked, taking his other hand rubbing your clit making you writhe and squirm under him the white hot pleasure building faster and faster leaving you unable to catch up cumming all over his fingers.

“Looks like you will,” he smirked, his ego stroked by how easily you came undone for him. Your legs trembled as you came down from your high.

“Shh shh it’s all good little one deep breaths the fun hasn’t started” he said laying down and pulling you on top of him, your dripping cunt lubing him up without trying as his cock laid heavy on his toned abs

A quick smack on the ass brings you back down earth letting the gravity of the predicament you put yourself in weigh on you

“You were so desperate to get your needy little pussy filled, take what you want” he said resting his head back against the plush pillows watching as you lined yourself up with cock with shaky hands. You let out a groan, feeling him stretch and fill you to the brim, your pussy feeling impossibly full.

“Atta girl” he praised smacking your ass again making you jolt forward

“Now bounce” he commanded and you followed his orders not wanting to push him more than you already have you grounded your hips against him feeling his cock stir inside you till you got up and began bouncing on his cock.

Ushijima watched closely as you began to shameselly bounce whining and moaning about how full you were and how good he felt. He gripped your hips slightly, guiding you brows furrowed in pleasure.

“Daddy s’ too much!” you exclaimed hands coming up to tweak your hard nipples with a moan that turned into a scream feeling ushijima slap your clit

“You can and will take it,I'm giving you what you asked for no?” he said, giving you a harsh thrust in particular making you throw your head back. Ushijima loved this, loved the way you shamelessly used him to get off, no regard for his pleasure just yours it made him feral. Before you could cum he flipped you guys over remaining inside of you. He lifted your legs putting them on his shoulders before he began thrusting into at an unforgiving pace making you scream

“Just like that baby so fucking good for you, daddy gonna stuff you full is that what you want?” he asked as the tip of his penis kept tapping your cervix

“Yes yes yes yes daddy so good so good” you mindlessly babbled as you began to cream around his cock a white ring of cum forming at the base

Ushijima looked down at you as your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your tongue lulled out of your mouth the pleasure overwhelming your brain.

“Your brain oozing out of your sloppy little pussy too?” he said referring to your fucked out state, he asked but didn’t expect a response knowing you’ve been fucked stupid

After you came for the third time without a break overstimulation began to set in making you push your feet flat against his shoulders trying to push him out with weak legs

“Too much daddy!” you screamed as he continued to mercilessly fuck you. His big hands swatted your legs off his shoulders before wrapping a hand around your throat

“Whos. pussy. Is. this?” he asked punctuating every word with a thrust that sent you to your building orgasam

“Ts’ yours toshi all yours!” you shouted knowing your neighbours could hear your boyfriend fuck your brains out.

“Then let me use MY pussy as I please” he said his thrusts becoming inconsistent as he came close to cumming. Knowing your boyfriend was close you began to clamp down around him wanting to him cum hard inside of your fluttering walls

“Fuck you keep squeezing me like that im gonna cum, but that’s what you want huh? You cum slut” he said thrusting into you. You nodded looking up at ushijima like he was a god, tears freely flowing down your cheeks from the immense pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. That face. That’s what sent him over the edge. There is nothing more he loves, eyes glassy with tears, lips red and swollen, little hiccups and moans leaving you as your pussy shamelessly sucked him in more.

“Gonna fill this pussy with my cum, stuff you full” he said thrusting so hard like he was trying to funnel his cum directly into your womb

“Yes yes yes yes yes” you chanted like a bitch. Wanting nothing more than your boyfriend’s hot cum spilling into you marking you in the most lewd way possible. With one final thrust and a throaty moan ushijima came inside of you painting your walls white with cum.

You moaned at the warm feeling of his cum filling you to the brim, you whimpered as more of his cum came out overflowing from your pussy on to the sheets of your shared bed

“So full” you whimpered as ushijima slowly rocked his hips fucking his cum into you before pulling out

“Your such a good girl” he praised stroking your hair lovingly looking down at you like you hung the moon and stars in the night sky

“Thank you toshi sorry i was being a brat” you sniffled his cum still flowing out of your pussy

“Shhh it’s okay baby just relax i’ll go get your bath ready” he said placing a sweet kiss on your temple on your temple walking to the ensuite.

You dreamily sighed tilting your head to the side ignoring the ache in your legs and focusing on the love swirling in your heart.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi #ushiwaka #ushijima x reader #haikyuu!!#anime #hard dom ushijima

2K notes · View notes

aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Disappearance II

Character: Albedo, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,149

Warnings: None

Premise: In which there is an argument and the reader disappears.

Author’s Note: Idk why I’ve characterized Albedo as a slob twice now. I guess I just think he’s the kind of person to become so engrossed in his research he just, never takes care of himself or his surroundings.

Also this was supposed to be two people but I procrastinated terribly so… here we are haha. Part three tomorrow.

Albedo

It was the third time this week that you had managed to spill his lab notes all over the floor, and frankly Albedo wasn’t sure if he could deal with it any longer.

“You’ve got a lot of papers strewn around,” you said, tone light and joking as you crouched to gather all the papers up.

“You’re the one that keeps bumping into things,” Albedo mumbled, crouching next to you to make sure that you put things back in order.

Seeing that you were putting things together haphazardly he snatched up the papers, frowning slightly as he went through the papers. Honestly, how could you mess up his system so much? As much as Albedo appreciated your interest in his work you were a Knight of Favonius, not a scientist, and as such your visits seemed to cause havoc more than anything else.

“Do you want me to help you with that?” You asked, exasperation creeping into your tone.

“No.”

“Are you sure? You seem, stressed. If you want I could pick up the papers on the tables and organize.”

“Don’t!”

“Albedo?” You leaned back slightly, as if surprised. For some reason that only made the alchemist more irritated.

“If you do that, you’ll just be creating more work for me. I’m very busy right now, I don’t have time to go back and fix your mistakes.”

“Mistakes?”

“It’s already enough that you keep spilling things all over the ground.”

“It’s not my fault that you leave your papers everywhere without even trying to keep them organized.”

“They are organized!”

“Well they certainly don’t look organized to me.”

“You just don’t understand. Besides, I’ve managed not to knock everything over.”

“You know, you’re insufferable when you get like this.”

“I’m not any different than usual.”

“I hope you don’t really think that,” you replied, tone clipped.

Standing up you turned towards the door. Though Albedo made a half-hearted call of your name you didn’t react, simply walking out of the room and slamming the door as hard as possible behind you.

Albedo didn’t even think of you the rest of the afternoon. Anger iced over his slight worry, replacing it with a burning sense of resentment. Your sudden departure stung, and, though it was admittedly childish, Albedo found himself determined not to worry about you.

Besides, you were simply an obstacle to his research at this point. Maybe it was better if you went off to cool your head somewhere, then he could finish up his work. That was what usually happened with other people anyways. Apprentices, clients, the occasional wandering alchemist; they all fluttered around him until he couldn’t stand it and then when they inevitably got fed up he’d finish his work. His relationship with you was still new, and though he couldn’t say that you were the same as all those people in his eyes, he really had no reason to think you would react in a different way.

The sun had gone down long before Albedo finally locked up for the night. It had taken him a good forty minutes to reorganize everything that had fallen, though admittedly most of that time was spent in angry silence. Now as Albedo walked down the streets, still busy with night activity, he wondered what might happen when he got home. He certainly wasn’t ready to apologize, even if his tone was a bit curt his words weren’t wrong; but he couldn’t exactly see you apologizing either. It was bound to be a tense evening. One Albedo was certainly not looking forward too.

All the lights were off in the apartment, something that struck Albedo as odd. Walking towards the kitchen he found a piece of paper crumpled up on the kitchen floor, though when he uncrumpled the paper he was met with eraser marks. Letting out a huff of impatience Albedo went to put some water on the stove. So this is how the evening was going to pass; you presumably at a friend’s house, Albedo in stony silence.

“How petty,” Albedo murmured.

He didn’t expect such a show of emotions from you, having come to the conclusion that you were quite the rational sort. Really, this was all too much. He had been in the right after all, even if he had been a bit cold about it. There was no reason to react in such a way. It was this mindset that carried Albedo through the rest of the evening and off to sleep. After all, it was better than the kernel of doubt that rested in the back of his head, that told him he was the one being callous.

You didn’t show up at the apartment or the lab the next day. Albedo buckled down to work, but by midday the irritation and anger that he’d been holding over were replaced by a deep sense of unease. Hurrying home after work he felt panic shoot through him at the sight of your home empty, nothing suggesting anyone had been there in the time he was at work.

It took all of Albedo’s willpower not to run out the door and go look for you. All the anger and irritation he had felt had been thrown out the window, replaced instead with an intense feeling of worry, and of the realization that his actions might bear actual consequences.

Tossing and turning in bed Albedo stared up at the empty ceiling. He had been certain he was in the right, even this morning. You were clumsy, you had been inconsiderate of his work, you were simply stubborn and petty. Now however he replayed your argument, your fight, over and over again. The more he did so the more he became aware of how harshly he’d acted; the more he wished you would simply appear in front of him so he could apologize. He wanted to go after you, wanted to let you know that he genuinely felt bad. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to do so, to go after you. After all, what if you didn’t want to see him? What if he just made things worse? Once more turning in bed Albedo sighed. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d see you again. Tomorrow he’d make things better.

There was no sight of you tomorrow either. Albedo stood in his lab in stunned silence, heart hammering in his chest as he contemplated what this could possibly mean. Was this it then? Had he messed up that badly?

Staring around him Albedo noticed all the papers scattered this way and that on the tables and the desks. Seized by a sudden urge he scooped them all up, carrying them over to where he kept his files. A part of him jeered that it was too little too late, but still the alchemist didn’t stop until everything was filed away properly. Turning around to look at his desk he collected the dirty mugs and discarded equipment, putting them in the sink before turning around to pick through the no longer needed papers that still lay sprawled around the room. He didn’t stop for lunch, nor did he go to start back up on the experiment he was currently working on. Instead he kept picking up and putting away and rearranging. It was almost a ritual of some sort, and though it brought little relief, at least it finally brought distraction.

Still that distraction was shattered the minute Albedo stepped outside. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, and the people of Mondstadt were still wandering around, enjoy the cool summer evening. Staring at the people around him, their eyes filled either with purpose or contentment, Albedo realized he couldn’t go home. He couldn’t face the empty apartment again. He thought that his anger would last longer, that he might go a week before feeling as if he burning from the inside out; but now he knew that that had been an arrogant, if somewhat funny, assumption. Turning away from the familiar path home he climbed up the steps of Mondstadt. He knew where he needed to go.

Walking up to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters Albedo was met with the sight of Eula, arms firmly crossed in front of her, faced even colder than usual. Hurrying over to your higher-up Albedo felt uncertainty bloom in his chest. Someone this seemed to bode ill.

“Eula?”

“Ah, the Head Alchemist. What do you wish to say to me?”

“Have you seen my partner?” Albedo paused, somewhat unwilling to reveal what had happened. “They haven’t been home for days, and I wondered if you knew where they might be staying.”

The look on Eula’s face was one of pure disbelief. “You, you don’t know what happened?” Her face shadowed over and she seemed to pull herself up. “If I were your partner, I would declare eternal vengeance for your idiocy. I don’t know what you’ve been doing Head Alchemist, but while you were off doing whatever it is you do, your partner was languishing underground.”

Albedo froze, unsure if he’d truly heard Eula right. The Knight tended to be quite flowery after all with her words. Perhaps this was just a metaphor he couldn’t understand.

“I see that it still hasn’t gotten through your head what happened.” Eula sighed, relaxing slightly. “I sent them off to monitor a few Fatui members, as it seems a group had made their way out of Dragonspine and into Windwail. While doing so they attempted to hide in a small crack in the mountains, but there was a steep drop after that onto the next shelf. Thankfully Amber had also been ordered to scout there, or else who knows how long it might have took to realize they were stuck. I just got the report from them, thankfully there was no lasting trauma.”

“W-where are they?”

“At home I presume. Aren’t you their partner?” Eula tilted her head. “Really, perhaps she should declare a need for vengeance.” And with that the Spindrift Knight walked into the Headquarters, leaving Albedo reeling on the step, heart thudding as if he’d just run a hundred miles.

Albedo practically fell down the steps of Mondstadt, so desperate was he to find you, to make sure you were okay. Eula had said that there was no lasting trauma, but what that meant Albedo was completely unsure of. Had you broken anything? Had you been deprived of oxygen? These thoughts catapulted through Albedo’s brain, constricting his lungs and plunging him into a roil of incoherent emotions.

The sight of you standing in front of his lab cause Albedo to stop in his tracks. For a moment the alchemist was overwhelmed by his emotions, switching between dizzying euphoria, terrible guilt, and unending worry. He took a step forward, then another, walking slowly down the stairs, as if in fear that you might disappear or turn away. However instead of turning away when he reached the end of the steps and made his way towards the fountain you let out a sort of shudder, running towards him and throwing your arms around his neck. Albedo wrapped his arms around you in turn, feeling slightly overwhelmed from the sudden proximity, the sudden feeling of once more being able to feel your skin against his. Letting his head drop onto your shoulder Albedo breathed in deeply, centering himself with your presence, grounding himself in the knowledge that the agony of the previous days was finally over.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“For what?” You whispered back.

“For not listening to you, for blaming you, for being cruel.”

“I’m also sorry.”

“Why? I was in the wrong.”

“Well, I just went off without telling you where I was going. I was going to write a note, but I was so angry I erased it.” You tightened your grasp around Albedo. “I wish I could’ve seen into the future. I never would have done something like that.”

“I don’t care about that,” Albedo ran small circles around the small of your back. “I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“No. I’m sorry for not being there, for not being able to help you; for doing nothing while you…” he stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

Pulling back for a moment you cupped Albedo’s face in your palms, studying his expression. Finally you bent over to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I forgive you,” you whispered, breath mingling with his.

Albedo leaned into to kiss you once more, finding that his emotions were blocking out any words he might have been able to say. Everything seemed so surreal, as if he’d been stuck in some awful nightmare that only now faded away. And yet this wasn’t a nightmare, this was reality; and Albedo would have to remember that.

For now though, he only wanted to wipe all the fear and conflict away.

#genshin impact fanfiction #albedo x reader #albedo #genshin impact #genshin albedo #requested #scenarios #my writing #not proofread

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arizona2004 · 3 years

Text

Safe Haven

Requested: yes

Cazriel x reader

word count: 3914

My face was pressed into the mud; I couldn’t even scream anymore. Three males held me down so I could barely move, but I was too tired from fighting so hard to struggle anyways. I was about to give up when the tip of a blade grazed my wing, and I remembered what I was fighting for. They were trying to clip my wings. I fought against the hold the males had on me to no avail. The fourth male brought his knife down, tearing it into my left wing. And not just once, not twice, but three long wounds. Then onto my right-wing. I tried holding back the tears, but it did me no good. I sobbed into the ground as not only my wings were taken from me, but the freedom and joy they stood for.

When the knife was pulled from my wing, I thought it was done, but the male picked up mud and smothered it in the open wounds. They burned, everything burned, and it was getting blurry. I was going to pass out, I realized. “No one is to touch her, no one is to clean her wounds, no one is to heal her,” the voice of the camp leader rang out behind me before he walked away, and I fell into unconsciousness.

I awoke a few times the next day, but when I did, it was to burning pain at my back and pitying eyes in all the females that walked by. I noticed I was no longer where I had been, pushed off to the edges of the camp, no longer in their way. So I turned my head away and looked at the forest to my left, falling asleep once more.

It was the next time that I woke, that I was not alone. I felt someone crouching to my right, and as I turned to look at him, another person crouched to my left. I whipped my head to the left to find Azriel. Staring at me with pain and grief behind his eyes. “It- it’s gonna be okay,” I heard from my right. Cassian. I turned to him to see the same look in his eyes and tears. He’s crying. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll fix this,” he murmured, pushing my hair back from my face.

I turn my face away, looking toward Azriel, but he’s not there. That’s when I hear the shouting. I look back to Cassian and passed him to the camp. I can’t see the women and children. There are only men; they’re being pushed inside a blue-force field? Yes. All of the men are being rounded up and forced into a prison, and there is Azriel: collecting them and pushing them all inside. I look back to Cassian and notice beneath the sorrow in his eyes is anger. He combs a hand soothingly through my hair, “We’ll take you to Madja. She can heal you,” he says, voice cracking. That’s when I notice the bandages on my back and the fact that I am not in as much pain as before. Whatever infection was settling in has been slowed by magic.

He continues soothing me until Azriel calls, “Cassian, they’re all here.”

“I’ll be right back,” he places a kiss atop my head and stands, walking toward Azriel. I watch in a haze as my males, my lovers, question all the men. Anywho are young, innocent, or remorseful are released. There aren't many.

They decipher who the males at the core of hurting me were. The camp leader and the ones that held me down. They were pulled aside one by one, and I had to close my eyes while Cassian and Azriel took turns hurting them. Through it all, I listen to them fighting, to their yells, and their pleas.

“We didn’t know she was your lover,” some of them screamed.

In the end, I’d turned my head away from the scene. I am no stranger to blood and gore, and I would never be angry with Cassian and Azriel for what they are doing, but I do not revel in watching those males dying. The camp leader is the last of them to die. He spits out cruel and disgusting words at all three of us, and I try not to listen. I’m not sure which of them does it, but his words are suddenly cut off as his head is cut from his neck.

Cassian returns to me first. He pulls the make-shift bandages from my wings, inspecting the wounds beneath, “Az, we need to get her to Madja. We couldn't have cleaned the wounds well enough, and she’s still losing blood,” he said over his shoulder. Seconds later, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and we were spinning through space.

The room we landed in was clean. The floors and walls were pristine white and blue, and everything looked very orderly. Nothing was out of place or messy. A few people were in the large room, and their attention was immediately drawn to us as Azriel winnowed us in. Whatever place this was, it had many doors leading out of it and many healers- I realize as several of the males and females come to inspect my wings. Faintly I hear Azriel speaking to an older female. She must have ordered me moved because soon, Cassian is carrying me through one of those many doors and into a room with nothing more than a bed and a couple of chairs in it.

Then, I must have fallen asleep again because I woke up hours later, remembering very little after being brought to this healing den. I’m lying flat on my stomach, facing Cassian asleep in a chair to my left. Slowly I blink my eyes awake and turn my head. Azriel is seated on my other side with his head in his hands. When I try to speak, only a quiet groan escapes my throat. Azriel sits up suddenly and before he can mask it I make note of the guilt and pain behind his eyes. Cassian also jolts up behind me and moves to Azriel’s side of the bed. He’s far less skilled at hiding his emotions; they’re always written all over his face.

I want to speak, but the words won’t come. As if knowing my question, though, Azriel says, “she couldn’t save them,” Cassian turns his face down, away from me, and Azriel avoids my eyes too, as he continues, “She tried. Several healers did, but they couldn’t save your wings. The infection was too great. You’re lucky to be alive.”

A choked sob leaves me as everything crashes in. My wings have been clipped. I’ll never fly again. I turn my face into my pillow, dry sobbing into it, while Cassian sits on the edge of the bed. I feel his hand hover over my back, but he pulls back, deciding not to touch me.

I feel like I can’t breathe as I heave into the pillow and wish the entire world would just disappear. I know Cassian is saying something, but I don’t hear his words. Azriel hasn’t said anything else, but I can feel his eyes on me and the guilt in them.

After some time, I fall asleep again.

Before I even open my eyes, I know it's not a nightmare as I had hoped. My wings ache with burning pain. “You’re due to take another tonic for the pain soon. I can go get it,” Azriel says from behind me. He must have sensed my pain. When I open my eyes to look at him, he is not who I see. Slouched forward in a chair, head lying on the bed, is Cassian. One of his hands is brushing against mine, and I move it closer, wanting more contact. I look slightly behind me at Azriel and tell him with my eyes that I would like that.

He’s gone for only a moment before he returns. I barely had the chance to blink, and he was already back. Walking over to my left side, where Cassian sleeps, Azriel helps pour the bitter liquid down my throat and gets water to ease that too.

My hand rests on top of Cassians; I briefly look before returning to Azriel. “He must be exhausted to not have woken up yet,” I say.

Azriel looks down at him and puts his hand to Cassian's head, gently running his fingers through the dark curls, “He wouldn’t sleep. Drank so much coffee he couldn’t even dose off; he didn’t want to. Eventually, I knocked him out.”

I raise my eyebrows in shock, but Azriel just smirks slightly looking back to me, “I didn’t hit him or anything. I asked Rhys to go into his mind and put him to sleep for a while,” the moment ends then, the smile leaving his face, “I didn’t want him getting hurt too.”

He blames himself. I know he does. He always does, though I wish he wouldn’t, “It wasn’t your fault, Az,” I murmur, closing my eyes. I can feel him staring at my wings, which have already started to ease as the tonic sets in.

“If we had come to see you sooner, this wouldn’t have happened. Madja said there was nothing we could have done about the infection, even soon after they did it, but if I had been there a day earlier, then we could have stopped it from happening at all,” the words rush out of him angrily at first. He sounds like he’s speaking more to himself than me. Then his voice cracks on the last few words, and I open my eyes to see tears welling up in his eyes.

I look at him for a moment longer and say, “come lay with me,” a confused look crosses his face, “this wasn’t your fault Azriel, now please come hold me.” He didn’t miss a beat. Crossing to the other side of the bed, he laid down on the edge, gently maneuvering himself to only touch me where there was no chance of making contact with my wings.

His right arm slithered under my head, resting his hand on the other side of my body. My right hand felt numb beneath my body, but I pulled it up to brush it with his. He grabbed my hand in his, and so I fell asleep, knowing I held both of my males close to me.

My dream started as a memory. It was the first time I had met my males; crouching next to the creak outside of camp, I sharpened a rusty old knife with a rock. I had been wishing I had a good knife, but that would be too risky to steal, and any protection was better than none. I didn’t hear the figure to my left, and when a branch snapped behind me, I knew I only heard it because that male wanted me to.

Dropping the knife, I quickly stood, turning to greet the male. It had been Cassian. Jokingly he said, “You couldn't hurt a fly with that knife. You really need a lesson in weaponry, don’t you?”

I shouldn't have gotten angry, but I did anyway, “I know about weapons,” I snapped, “but not all of us are privileged enough to have pretty little knives like you,” That's when I became aware of the figure to the side. He laughed deeply, and I was sure he must be laughing at me. I would be punished severely for this.

My attention snapped back to the first male as he spoke, “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, “but you really shouldn’t use that dagger. I’ll get you a better one.”

“Here. She can have this one,” the other male spoke, pulling out a dagger. It is plain and silver with a simple, twisted image of shadows carved onto the surface, leading to the black hilt, “I’ve had it for ages but never really use it,” He detached a sheath from his belt and slipped the dagger in before handing it to me. I looked into his eyes a moment longer before turning away, blushing.

“What do you need a weapon for anyways?” Cassian asked.

I shrug slightly, “protection.”

“From?”

“Everyone,” I say, tucking the dagger under my skirts. I probably should keep it closer being alone with two males, but for whatever reason, I did not feel threatened by them. The memory faded away as another appeared. Only days after I had first met the two Illyrians, the high lord’s most trusted friends, and advisers, they appeared in my camp again. Not for business with the Camp leader, however. I felt them stalking me as I walked through the wood, when I was carefully distanced from the camp, they showed themselves- Cassian with a grin spreading across his face, and Azriel with a carefully blank expression, but curious eyes nonetheless. That was when things began. When I started falling in love with them.

These meetings continued for months. We met inside a small cave just outside the camp. It was glamoured now from anyone's eyes but ours. My little safe haven. It had been where I was running when I realized they intended to clip my wings. I wasn’t fast enough, though.

Now the dreams were turning, twisting into something more terrifying. Darkness rushed toward me as I fell into the next scene. I tried screaming and fighting as hands grabbed me in the dark, but I just kept falling. My whole body burned, and a shiver ran down my spine as I was thrown into the waking world.

The warm heat of a body pressed at my right ran through me as I blinked my eyes open. It was Azriel, I realized now. He brushed his fingers gently down my spine, soothing me, “It was just a bad dream,” he murmured against my hair, pressing a kiss to my head.

On my other side, I felt Cassian squeeze my hand. He was awake now, holding my hand tightly as he laid his head closer to mine. Feeling them beside me was already enough to relieve my aches and ease my mind. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Cassian whispered between us, just loud enough for Azriel to hear. I shook my head in answer, closing my eyes tightly in an attempt to fall back asleep.

I couldn’t, though. So I just lay there with my males on either side of me, trying to pretend we were still in that little cave, and nothing had gone wrong. I still had my wings.

Days have passed now. Most of them were filled with me laying in bed with one or both of my males holding me. Other times though, they involved tears streaming down my face and screams tearing out of my throat. Cassian and Azriel were always there, rocking me through it and reminding me of what I still had, though it felt like I’d lost everything.

Occasionally I’d wake to arguing. I heard the high lord scolding Azriel and Cassian about their actions after the first day, but he didn’t sound seriously angry. Mostly I heard the whispered arguments between Azriel and Cassian about me. My treatment, my pain, how best to help me. I hated that they were arguing. It happened less and less as I recovered, but I still hated it.

Neither male was here now though, it was a rare occurrence. I had told both males the other was staying with me and told him he should go eat. I needed the alone time, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. Rather than stay in bed, I stood on numb legs and hobbled over to the bath. It has been too long since I’ve bathed. How Cassian and Azriel managed to be near me without wanting to vomit at the stench was beyond me.

Kneeling on the ground, I held my hand under the water as it rushed out. When the water was ready and smelling of lavender, I submerged myself to the waist. Slowly I let my wings touch the water as I lowered myself further. When I was finally in the water entirely, I relaxed and leaned my head back before slipping down lower to wet my hair.

When I was still under the water, finally relaxed, I breathed out slowly. Everything was peaceful until a pair of large hands gripped my upper arms and pulled me from the water. My eyes shot open, and I fought the male until I noticed it was Azriel, “Stop!” I yelled at him, “What on earth are you doing?” I shouted. I shot a glance to Cassian, standing in the doorway. He looked upset, and Az was definitely angry.

“What are you doing?” he replied with a growl. I tried pulling my arms away from him. He loosened his grip, but only enough to no longer hurt. I still couldn’t get away.

“I was bathing,” I glared at him, “I didn’t realize that wasn’t allowed.”

“Bullshit,” he said

“Az…” Cassian spoke.

“You’re not allowed to kill yourself! I won’t let you,” Azriel shouted.

What, I thought, “I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I say calmly, looking straight into his eyes, “I just wanted a bath.” Suddenly a wave of guilt hit me because I’d made them think that. Azriel must have believed me because he released my arms and took a step back.

I pulled my arms up to cross my chest and looked away from them. Cassian pulled Azriel out of the bathroom, but neither of them closed the door. I returned to the bath but was no longer relaxed. I decided to quickly clean up and return to bed. The room was nearly silent except for the short whispered argument between the males. When I stepped into the room to dress, they both studiously looked away from me and one another. I dressed quickly and laid in bed, falling asleep before either of them could try and talk to me.

After weeks had passed, I was sitting and walking again. Most of the pain had gone, now only phantom pains and sore scars remained. I was barely able to move my wings, and Madja said with some physical therapy, I would regain much of the movement but never enough to fly again.

Cassian sat with me now, massaging my back. Things had gotten better. I’ve tried imagining life without my wings, and as long as I remember that I’ll always have my batboys, things aren't so bad. “Do you wanna go for a fly,” Cassian whispered.

“I can’t,” I said, tears welling up as I imagined I could.

Cassian pulled me up, “come on,” he said, pulling me by the wrist. He walked us up to the roof and stood behind me. Pulling my hips to him, he said, “stand on my feet.” I looked at him confused, “just do it.” So I did. I stood on his feet, and he wrapped his arms under mine and across my chest. “Try to keep your legs straight against mine,” he whispered against my ear, “if you need to hook your ankles around mine, do that.” Then we were taking off into the air, flying straight up. It wasn’t the same as flying myself, but it was relaxing nonetheless. We flew straight for the house of wind and hovered there for a moment. I was going to ask why we weren’t moving, but then Azriel walked out onto the balcony and shot toward us.

We spent hours in the sky. We even developed signals so Cassian would fly however I wanted. Glide left or right. Sharp turns. Down, up, backflip, frontflip. I felt like a kid again as I tumbled through the sky with the two most important people in my life.

When finally we were too exhausted to continue, we landed at a restaurant in the city. Azriel went in first, apparently having made reservations. As I followed-Cassian's hand in mine-we were led across the room between tables until we reached a curtained wall in the back. The males both grinned at me as our host pulled back the curtain, revealing a beautiful candle-lit scene. A beautiful private area just for us.

The evening was perfect. We ate dinner and laughed and just enjoyed each other. The room reminded me of our cave: chilly, small, and with colorful pillows and blankets littering the floor. It didn’t take long after finishing our meals for the three of us to end up in the mess of fabric. I have no idea how long we laid there. They just held me whispering beautiful things into my ears and an occasional obscenity from Cassian. They always knew what I needed.

My back was pressed to Cassian as he carefully wrapped his arms around me, avoiding my wings. I’m almost positive he’s asleep, and even in sleep, his grip is like iron. I couldn’t possibly move. Azriel, in front of me, combed the hair out of my face. “You’re gonna be okay, ya know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “I know it doesn’t always feel like it, and you wanna give up sometimes, but you can’t. Please don’t ever leave us. We’re gonna be okay,” a tear slid down his cheek as he whispered these words to me.

“I promise,” I whispered back, pressing my forehead to his, “I promise.”

The next day I was released from the healers’ den, but it didn’t matter; Cassian and Azriel still never left my side. I didn’t mind, though. As soon as we left, they dragged me down endless streets of houses. I had no idea where we were going until I saw the large manor seated beside the Sidra, to our right. It must be the high lord and lady's house. We didn’t turn to it, though. Instead, I was led left, that’s when I noticed the smaller house, seated directly across from the manor. It was smaller, but not small. Beautiful ivy ran across the brick it was built of. It was supposed to look old but was certainly brand new. A short white fence ran along the yard. Cassian opened a little gate motioning for me to continue up the path. Inside, the house was stunning and appeared brand new. A curved staircase wrapped around behind us, and a chandelier hung from the high ceiling.

“What is this,” I asked quietly, not wanting my voice to echo.

“A house,” Cassian answered simply, “how about a tour?”

“Whose house?” I asked.

“Ours, of course,” Azriel replied. “We figured the house of wind was out of the question since you wouldn’t very easily be able to get in and out. And the beds in the River house are just big enough for two Illyrians. Not three.”

“So we bought this place. For the three of us,” Cassian finished, biting his lip nervously.

“You bought me a house,” I asked incredulously.

“Us. We bought us a house,” Cassian replied.

This would take some getting used to. Them doting on me all the time; always near. It wouldn’t be difficult, I imagined.

“You can decorate it however you’d like,” Azriel spoke.

“Even if I want to paint all the walls pink and hang orange curtains from all the windows,” I smirked. He cringed slightly, and Cassian laughed, holding out his hand, offering the tour again.

#cazriel x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #cazriel imagine #cassian acotar #cassian fic #azriel acotar #azriel fic #cassian x azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed!

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face. The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years

Note

Hi babe! How you doing?

Since winter this year is terrible, snowy and cold I was wondering if you could do those sweet drabbles for our wolves and reader they have huge crush on who spends winter at Kaer Morhen and sneaks into their room and bed searching for warmth in the middle of the night?

A/N: Hi babe! I hope you like this :)

***

Lambert

You moved through one of the many corridors within Kaer Morhen, clutching the blanket that acted as a cloak around your shoulders.

The corridor was dark with the exception of torches that were lit every few dozen feet along the stone wall. They were strategically placed outside of every room.

Though most of the rooms on the floor were empty, you were still careful to be as quiet as possible. You knew how sensitive a witcher’s hearing was and you didn’t want to be the reason one of them was woken up.

You came to a stop outside of the last room on the left. The door was shut, though you expected it to be. The young wolf inside was probably sleeping. Anyone in their right mind would be sleeping at three in the morning.

You knocked twice on the door, frowning at how loud the sound was. It seemed to echo down the corridor, bouncing off of the stone walls.

I hope Eskel doesn’t hear that.

There was no response from the witcher inside of the room, so you tried again, this time adding his name to the knock.

“Lambert? Lambert, are you awake?”

A rustling noise could faintly be heard from beyond the thick wooden door. It was pulled open with a loud creak.

Lambert stood there in nothing but a pair of trousers that hung low- perhaps too low -on his hips. Your eyes flickered over his chest, over the scars and hair that sparsely covered his muscular torso.

“The hell are you doing up so late, bug?” He asked, voice groggy with sleep as he rubbed the side of his face. He didn’t notice you staring as he was still trying to force his eyes to open up.

“I-I just- I’m sorry to-to um-,” You suddenly regretted deciding to leave your bed. Embarrassment settled into the pit of your stomach. “It’s just…. The-The fire in my room, it went out some time ago. There was a gust of wind and I don’t really know what happened. I tried to layer up with what I had but it didn’t work. It’s too cold.”

You rubbed your hands together. Whether it was from the cold or from nervousness, you weren’t sure.

Lambert looked down at you, brows furrowed together.

“So your room’s too cold to sleep in tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m so sorry to bother you. I-I didn’t want to wake you up. If you could just maybe help me start the fire-,”

“I don’t want to walk all the way down there right now.” He cut you off. His answer made your stomach drop, but then he continued. “Come in here. You can stay with me for the night.”

“Oh, Lambert. I-I couldn’t do that.”

“Yeah you can.” He stepped aside and gestured for you to enter his room.

Even from out in the hall you could feel the heat coming from his room. How could you say no?

You stepped into his room, eyes flickering around, curiously taking in what you could see.

With the light coming from the fireplace, you could only make out a few notable features of his room. The first was an easel set up in the far corner. The next was a stack of books next to the foot of his bed.

Lambert didn’t give you enough time to examine his room any further.

“You can get into the, uh, the bed.” He said, still lingering by the door. It was shut but he stayed near it for whatever reason. “If it would make you more comfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Lambert, I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Floor in front of the fire is nice. And I don’t…. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to pull anything on ya if we share a bed.”

Your eyes immediately left his and instead found a space on the floor between the both of you.

“I-I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t think that.” You murmured quietly, offering a small smile to him. “You’re a kind man, Lambert.”

“I’ve been called many things, bug, but kind ain’t one of them.” He rubbed the back of his head. “You can get comfortable first. I’ll get in after you.”

You nodded your head, pulling the throw blanket off of your shoulders and laying it across the foot of the bed.

Lambert pretended not to watch you as climbed into the bed and got comfortable on one side. He said nothing when the side you chose to get comfortable on was the side he preferred.

“Okay.” You spoke quietly from underneath the thick pile of blankets. “Do you always sleep with this many blankets?”

“Yeah.” He got into bed next to you. “I’m always cold, especially here during the winter. It gets cold as fuck.”

You nodded, shifting around a little on the bed. You rubbed your feet together, trying to get the warmth to spread to your toes.

“Are you okay over there?”

“Just…. Just trying to get warm. It’ll take me a minute but I’m okay.”

“Here.”

You weren’t too sure what he was doing as your back was to him, but suddenly you could feel him against you. His body gave off an incredible amount of body heat that had you pressing back into him without even realizing it.

“This okay, bug?” He asked, his warmth breath tickling your ear.

“Yeah.” You giggled softly. “Thank you, Lambert.”

“Wouldn’t want you to freeze to death. Then I’d lose my kind guy badge you just gave me.”

Eskel

You knocked on the door to Eskel’s room, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You rubbed your hands together in an attempt to create some sort of heat but it was really no use. You were chilled straight to the bone.

Your room was freezing cold and no matter how many blankets or how many layers you put on, you couldn’t seem to get warm.

The door to Eskel’s room opened quietly. He appeared, hair messily tied back with a few strands falling around his face. The tunic he wore was unlaced and revealed a good portion of his chest where the top created a V.

“Y/N, it’s early.” He looked over his shoulder to the window to confirm his own words. It was still pitch black outside. “Is something wrong?”

“I can’t sleep.” You frowned. “It’s freezing cold in my room. Do you think it would be okay if I stayed with you for the night?”

He looked at you for a few moments, lips parting but no words coming out.

Your heart began to beat faster with anxiousness. You didn’t want to overstep and you didn’t want to scare him away. The two of you had been flirting lightly here and there over the winter and you didn’t want to ruin that.

“If you’d rather not, Eskel, it’s no big deal. I can go bother Ciri-,”

“No, that-that isn’t necessary.” He cut you off. “Please, come in.”

You held his gaze as you passed him, a smile on your lips.

Your eyes flickered around the room, landing on his bed. It was neatly made as if he had never even tried to go to sleep. At the foot of the bed was a book. It was open with the pages down on the bed.

“It doesn’t look like you were sleeping.”

“I-I wasn’t.” He admitted sheepishly. Eskel closed the door and moved into the room. “I was reading.”

“Would you read to me?” You asked him, picking up the throw that was laying across the foot of the bed.

“If you’d like. You can get under the blankets if you want, Y/N.”

“This will do just fine right now. Your room is rather warm. It’s quite pleasant.”

He sat down on one side of the bed, leaning back against the headboard. You sat next to him, leaning against him. He was hesitant to put his arm around you, but as he did you seemed to melt right into his side.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked quietly, looking down at you.

“Very. Thank you, Eskel.” You smiled.

Geralt

You pulled the brush through your hair, letting out a heavy breath.

“You look like something is on your mind.”

Your eyes flickered over to Jaskier. He was stretched out across your head reading a book while you did your hair for the night.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re staring at yourself in that mirror.” Jaskier sat up, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you. “You usually aren’t that narcissistic, so something must be up. What is it, darling?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, putting the hairbrush down so you could braid your hair.

“Is it Geralt?”

“Jaskier.”

“I only suggest it was him because earlier this evening when we had dinner, you practically refused to look at him. I thought the both of you were…. rather fond of one another.”

“I thought so too. But I suppose since I am no longer the only one here he can bed, I serve no purpose to him anymore.”

“Y/N, you know you mean more to Geralt than a simple fuck.”

“He sure hasn’t made it seem that way since Yennefer arrive. Though I don’t blame him. She’s is a beauty.”

“She is, but all evil things are beautiful.”

“She’s not evil, Jaskier.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“You didn’t see her and the Djinn.”

You finished your hair and stood up from the vanity, moving towards the bed.

“He hasn’t paid me a second glance since she’s come. I only feel stupid for thinking that he no longer felt anything for her.”

“You know that isn’t how their…. predicament works, Y/N. You know he has no control over his feelings for her.”

You stayed quiet. Jaskier watched you for a few moments, wishing there was something he could do to help you feel better.

“I’d like to go to bed now, Jakier.” You told him.

“Okay, darling. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Jaskier.”

***

A few hours later, you were still awake. Not only were you unable to sleep, but there was a draft in your room that made you cold.

After laying there for a while tossing and turning, you decided to read. You turned the page just as someone knocked on the door to your room.

“Who is it?”

“Me.” Geralt’s deep voice came from the other side of the door

“I’m in no mood for talking, Geralt. I’m trying to sleep.”

“I can hear your teeth chattering.”

“The only way you can hear my teeth is if you’ve been lingering outside my door.” You sat up, eyes focusing on the door.

You heard the witcher let out a heavy sigh.

“Can I please come in, Y/N?”

“You may open the door.” You adjusted the shoulder of your chemise and pulled the blankets up to cover your chest.

Geralt opened the door and stepped inside. Golden eyes flickered around the room, searching for something.

“Did you leave a window open?”

“No. My room sometimes gets cold during the winter months. That’s why I tend to stay with Jaskier.”

Geralt nodded. His eyes fell on you.

You shifted around a little on the bed.

“Well? Did you have something you wanted to say or did you just come in here to look at me while I’m in my nightclothes?” You raised your brows at him.

Geralt cleared his throat, eyes darting down to the floor for a moment before lifting to meet yours.

“I-I don’t…. I’ve noticed that for the last couple of days you and I….” He trailed off, unsure of what to say or how to word what was going through his head. “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

“Like the plague, yes.” You stated matter-of-factly. You looked down to the blanket and smoothed out the material. “I don’t wish to step on anyone’s toes. This keep may be big, but it isn’t big enough to last the entire winter feuding with the few who are here.”

Geralt furrowed his brows at you. He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“Now if you’ll please excuse me, Geralt. I’d like to try to sleep tonight.”

Geralt locked his jaw, frustrated.

“You’ll freeze if you stay here for the night.”

“Then so be it.” You stubbornly laid down in bed and brought the blankets up over your shoulder.

“Can I….” He grunted. “Can I stay with you for the night? At least to keep you warm?”

You swore your heart skipped a beat. You wanted to tell him no and to even start raising your voice at him. But you were far too cold and too tired to fight.

“I suppose.”

Geralt moved across the room and kicked his boots off. He pulled the blankets back and climbed underneath them.

“Won’t Yennefer be upset that you’re underneath the same blankets as me?” You looked over your shoulder at him.

“She doesn’t care what I do. I am my own person. I’m an adult. I don’t have to ask for her permission to do anything.”

“But…. aren’t you two….?” You didn’t finish your sentence.

One of Geralt’s arms slipped around your torso. He pulled you back into him.

You could almost immediately feel his body heat coming through both of your clothes.

“No, we aren’t.” His answer was soft. His breath was warm against your neck. “Is that what’s gotten you so upset with me?”

You said nothing, allowing yourself to sink back against him.

His hand that rested on your stomach began to trace circles there.

“Please understand that it’s a spell. Whatever I do feel towards her, it was forged in a last wish I made years ago.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to remember that when we are all in the same room and you forget that I exist.” You murmured.

A breath left his lips.

“I am sorry, dove.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “I’m looking into ways to get rid of the spell. I don’t want it getting in the way of any real…. Any real feelings I may have for anyone else.”

His words made something in your chest flutter. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Good night, dove.”

“Good night, Geralt.”

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#the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #lambert #eskel #geralt x reader #lambert x reader #eskel x reader #geralt x reader fluff #eskel x reader fluff #lambert x reader fluff #kacey answers

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

Pathetic and Tragic

Summary: It’s been years since the BAU has tried to catch this unsub, so when Spencer figures out where she is, why did he feel the need to go alone?

Pairing: Spencer x Fem Unsub!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: mentions of murder/blood, slight bondage, hair pulling, choking, gagging, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, slight degradation

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Hi! This is for a contest by @spenciebabie and I’ve chosen the one-shot prompt why don't you make me?

Masterlist

____

The case was never supposed to last this long. Spencer knew that, Hell, the whole BAU knew that. A woman with ties to the highest degree of one of the most infamous organized crime families should have been the FBI’s top priority, and for a very long time, she was.

Then the case got complicated, and while Spencer’s mind clouded with an unbearable lust for a woman that would take his life with zero hesitation, the team lost one of their greatest players.

It was tragic in every sense of the word, the way Spencer’s mind replayed their first interaction, his lips feeling her breath on him after all this time, and the bullet that always rested in his bag.

He felt pathetic in that moment, letting her take control of his morals with her vice like grip on his mind, body and soul.

“FBI, freeze. Don’t move.” Finally, the BAU had found who they were looking for since her first appearance on their radar 8 months ago. More importantly, Spencer caught her trying to flee a scene she had no business being at. She looked so out of place, the blood and gore that laid a trail to her small, almost fragile figure making Spencer believe for a split second that she couldn’t have possibly done this.

But time moves quickly, and the second fleeted when she turned around to flash a wicked smile his way.

And Spencer Reid was the one who froze instead.

“Doctor,” she greeted with the utmost of poise and delicacy. “I do believe I have a job to do, so I’m sorry to inform you that I cannot follow your request at this time.”

She was taunting him, and Spencer would fall into that trap again and again if it meant her eyes remained on his.

But this was a criminal, a murderer, a sociopath, and he will not lose his footing this time. Not even for a flawless god-like woman.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for the murder of Tristen Kepler, Michael Gerdinski and Harold Bennet.” Spencer’s voice was slowly losing its confidence as her face turned from one of pure hilarity to confusion.

“Is that all? You might be missing a few names.” She was proud of her work, it was insufferable. Spencer’s anger level was slowly rising, and if she continued to dance circles around his mind, the task at hand being forgotten, it was going to get dangerously high.

“You won’t shoot me, Dr. Reid,” she continued as she took a step towards him, the grip on his gun tightened.

“How do you know?” Spencer’s voice shook with the same uncertainty as his finger shaking over the trigger. She was right, he wasn’t going to shoot her, but Spencer couldn’t confirm the thoughts of a narcissist.

“Because,” another step. “I’m unarmed, and you, Spencer Reid,” another step. “Are a man of morals and righteousness, and justice.” She spit the last word with so much venom that the story behind her rage could have been the world’s most tragic villain arc.

The whole case was quite tragic.

“Don’t take another step.” Spencer was easily a foot taller than her, and with one scan could tell he weighed twice as much as her, but she still found a way to make his blood run cold with both fear and excitement.

“Or what?”

Spencer could’ve sworn he only blinked and she was directly in front of him, but that wasn’t entirely the truth. She had laid a fog over his mind, taking away his intelligence and peeling back every layer of his mind so only the thought of lowering his weapon in favor of getting on her good side remained.

She was challenging him to do something, but instead of the snake charmer charming the snake, she charmed him.

Spencer must have been hallucinating on the high of being closer to her now, but he could’ve sworn the crime scene they were in was starting to grow the same vines in the Garden of Eden, because there she stood handing Spencer an apple.

Like Eve, Spencer took it.

The second his gun lowered slightly, she pounced. She had him disarmed and on his back before he had time to process the feeling of her skin on his. If the impact to the ground didn’t knock the wind out of Spencer, her close proximity would.

She had a heel digging into his wrist closest to his gun that was only inches away, taunting him for his pathetic lust. Slowly, she bent down, entering the fog, black smoke mixing with his innocent, white cloud to create a gray that he wouldn’t dare call dull.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this, Spencer. Truly, I am.” Her eyes left his to scan his face before she reached over to his gun. The thought crossed his mind that she was going to kill him, but would that be so bad when he was breathing the same air as her?

She emptied the chamber into her hands, only leaving one bullet. He walked this road before, he knew his chances.

“One bullet, one chance.” She spun the chamber before slamming it back in place. “God, I really hope you live.”

For a split second, they shared a gaze clouded with desire for the other. Spencer let his mind fade into what her lips would feel like against his, or how her body would tremble under his. She had control now, but he knew from the way her eyes begged, even just for one second, she wanted him to flip the roles and take her right there. He would’ve too if it wasn’t for the cool metal that pressed against the side of his head.

Click!

An empty threat, yet she still smirked. “Today’s your lucky day, Doctor.”

She looked up to where a single headlight shone through the window above them, her hair trickling down to brush against Spencer’s neck, and he sighed at the small contact. It was pathetic, really.

“That’s my ride. See you around.” With that, she winked and ran off towards her getaway. Spencer laid there, taking in shallow breaths that escaped him during their interaction.

She had been stalling him, and he fell for it.

Spencer still carried around that bullet as a reminder. A reminder that he needs to catch her, she was too dangerous, and anything less than her being imprisoned for life wasn’t good enough.

It was also a reminder of how he felt when she was with him, over him, dominating him. Spencer never felt that helpless, that pathetic, that hungry for someone, and he wasn’t ready to let that go quite yet.

There was no new case that came in this week, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep that nagging feeling at bay when it came to her this case. They needed to shut it, Spencer needed to shut it, because maybe, just maybe, he could sleep better at night knowing he won.

“Delivery for Dr. Spencer Reid,” a voice called from the entrance of the bullpen. Spencer’s head shot around, finding a very harmless looking intern holding a small package in his hand looking around.

Cutting the kid some slack, he made his way over. “I’m Dr. Reid.” The kid smiled before handing him the little cardboard box. It fit in the palm of his hand, and was completely blank except for the small drawing of a snake on the top.

His blood ran cold, and his lungs forgot how to breath, just like they did a year ago.

A year ago today.

Spencer didn’t wait any longer, ripping the box open despite the strong glue that held it shut with its secrets.

Oh Spencer, hasn’t anyone told you not to open Pandora’s box?

The bullet inside rattled around the small container, one of the bullets that belonged to Spencer before she took them for her trophies.

She may have not killed Spencer, but she definitely took something more than just bullets with her that night.

He knew where she was, and she wanted him to.

Spencer could’ve told his team, hell, he was going to need the backup, so what stopped him from doing so as he raced for the crime scene that has since been cleared and reopened for the public to ignore the ‘No Trespassing’ sign?

Lust, lust is what stopped him, and it was pathetic.

Pathetic and tragic.

She knew he arrived, even if he turned the lights of the SUV off before pulling up the small warehouse. The air around her grew heavier with anticipation as she waited for Spencer to enter the room, no doubt waiting for the element of surprise.

She almost missed his light footsteps approaching her from behind.

“You’ve changed,” she called out. Spencer froze again, just like he had the first time. Was this pathetic enough?

“So have you,” his voice was calm, not caring for tiptoeing anymore. She was right, Spencer had changed, and now he took very little chances with instability.

“Yet here we are, repeating the same cycle as last year.” She turned to face him, and if she was less of a professional, she would have let her hunger for Spencer shine through. He had definitely changed, his hair was longer now, but still beautifully curly and framing his face, the one that was sharper, stubble on his cheeks.

Spencer was a man now, one she wanted to strip down to nothing both physically and emotionally.

“That’s not entirely true,” he shot back with a sense of cockiness to his tone, cockiness she had no patience for. “I’m not letting you go this time.”

She snorted, actually snorted in his face. “You cannot be serious. You think I would lead you to me just to turn myself in?”

“You’re coming with me, whether you want to or not.” There was no room for argument, but she had other plans. She saw the lust in his eyes a year ago, and though time passed, that passion when he was looking at her still hasn’t faded. She just needed to push his buttons a little bit.

“Why don’t you make me?” It was the final straw, the last drop of water before the dam broke, and Spencer made no effort to stop himself from taking her head in his hands and smashing their lips together in both anger and desire.

She moaned against his mouth, wrapping her hands around his neck to find their place in his hair. Spencer had other plans, because he grabbed both of her wrists before turning her around and bending her over the metal table behind them.

“Listen, Princess,” Spencer whispered into her ear, his lips grazing the shell as he bent his whole body over her to press her further. The cool metal was digging into her hips, but she couldn’t complain when it also meant she felt Spencer’s hard erection on her backside. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, and then I’m going to take you in where you’ll rot in prison for the rest of your life. Do you understand?”

“Only one of us is getting ruined today, and it’s not me.” Apparently, that was not the answer Spencer wanted, because he grabbed a fistful of her hair to pull her back against his chest, making her gasp and squirm against his strong frame.

“Watch the attitude,” he growled out before reaching down with his other hand to unbutton her black jeans. “Now let’s try that again. Do you understand me?”

She only responded in a whimper as Spencer’s hands reached inside both her pants and panties to run his fingers through her slick folds.

“Use your words, Princess.” She tried to grind down on his fingers, but Spencer was quick to remove them from her pants. Bringing his hand up to her neck, he wrapped it around before squeezing lightly. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes, I understand. Just please, Spencer.” She never would have thought that the awestruck doctor she wooed a year ago would be so rough with her, and the surprise just added to her need for him.

“Please what, Princess?” Spencer taunted.

“Just do something,” she barked back, immediately regretting her decision when he let go of her neck to push her by her head back onto the table with more force than necessary.

When she heard the click of his handcuffs, she started her relentless squirming. “What the hell, Spencer? I thought you were going to fucking do something!”

“Who said I wasn't?” He asked before completely ripping her pants down her legs, the cool air hitting her bare pussy, causing a shiver to run up her spine.

So this was the game Spencer’s playing.

“God, you’re already so fucking wet, Princess. Wanna taste you.” He gave her no time to register his words because Spencer dropped to his knees and licked a strip up and then down her folds, flicking her clit before taking in completely in his mouth.

Her mewls and groans bounced off the concrete walls around them, only urging Spencer on more. He suckled softly on her clit before flicking it back and forth repeatedly with his tongue at an incomprehensible pace. The knot in her stomach was forming, and at this rate, it was going to unravel fast.

“Spe-Spence I.. I’m g-gonna” Spencer brought his fingers up to her core, replacing his tongue with two slender digits.

“Do it, Princess. Come for me.” He pinched her clit roughly, and that was the final push over the edge, her moans loud consisting of incoherent curses and his name.

When she started to come down from her high, Spencer stood straight up again and started unbuckling his belt. She started to squirm and push back into him at his slow movements.

“I know you’re probably enjoying watching me struggle, but if you could please hurry the fuck up,” she said as she lifted part of her upper body to turn and look at him. She never got a good look, because Spencer reached out and slammed her back down before pushing all of himself into her waiting cunt.

She yelled out at the sensation, Spencer groaning before saying, “What did I tell you about that fucking attitude?”

He set a brutal pace, giving her barely any time to adjust before pulling out so just the tip remained, and then slamming into her with a rough, animalistic force.

“Ah, ah, ah, Sp- Spenc-” He grabbed her by the hair again, using it as leverage to pull her back onto his cock, making her scream out again.

“Shut up,” Spencer groaned out, annunciating each word with a thrust while he reached forward to shove two fingers into her mouth. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

She moaned around his fingers, causing him to press down on her tongue, gagging her. Spencer could feel the way she started to clench around him.

“You gonna cum, Princess? That’s it, cum with me.” Spencer’s thrusts grew sloppier as they both ran towards their orgasm together.

When they both finally reached their high, Spencer could’ve sworn he saw stars, his cock twitching in her pulsing warmth, milking him of everything. For a split second, their bodies had become one.

But time moves quickly, and the second fleeted when his actions caught up to him, and he ripped himself from her.

She was still shaking and trying to catch her breath when he undid the handcuffs that were burning her wrists. Confusion spread through her as she used her arms that still felt like jelly to push herself up off the table.

“Why... why’d you uncuff me?” Spencer looked up through his eyelashes at her from where he was redoing his belt, his face unreadable.

“Get dressed. I can’t arrest you half naked.” He looked away from her with a blush on his face as she bent down to pull her pants back up. When she looked back up at him from where he was trying to see from his peripherals if she was dressed again, she caught a glimpse of the man she met a year ago.

“That’s not the reason, Doctor. If you have a question, ask it.”

“Why’d you stop?” Spencer finally turned to face her, catching the surprise on her face before it morphed into that same wicked smile that rendered him helpless last time.

“Would you have come if I kept killing?” He didn’t have to think about his answer, it was the reason he was hoping was true.

“No.” She slowly stalked over to him, but this time she didn’t flip him on his back. Instead, she cupped his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to nuzzle into her palm.

“I still have 4 bullets,” she said softly. They locked eyes again, but this time, the lust they indulged in melted down to a mutual understanding.

“I’ll see you next year, Doctor.” With that, she walked around him, shutting the door with a slam on the way out, leaving Spencer staring at the silver with no attempt to chase after her.

Pathetic and tragic.

____

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jared-19-cant-reid · 3 years

Text

Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You need a date to your sister’s wedding, and Spencer begrudgingly agrees to help you out. Your feelings for him become difficult to hide, and Spencer really commits to his role as your “boyfriend”.

Word Count: 5.3K

Content Warnings: Family conflict, minor angst, unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer/Sub!Reader, bondage, daddy kink, spitting, choking, breath play, exhibitionism/public sex, teensy bit of sacrilege

Author’s Note: This fic idea came to me while I was listening to “A Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James, so I’d highly recommend listening to it if you read the fic. Gives you the ~vibe~. Anyway, this is way longer than I expected but Spencer and reader deserved the extra time! I hope u enjoy :)

“C’mon, just make an appearance with me!” You pleaded. “It’s just one night! How bad can it be?” I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

Morgan snorted at that, shaking his head as he moved to exit the bullpen. “Sorry, kid. I love you, but I am not spending my night off at your bitchy sister’s wedding.”

You sighed, reluctantly stepping aside to allow him to leave. Beginning to lose hope, you turned to your only remaining coworker. Spencer was still sitting at his desk, busying himself with organizing drawers and repositioning folders to avoid meeting your gaze as you approached his desk.

“Spencer, please come with me tonight. I can’t deal with my sister alone, and I think I might die if I have to explain to her that the guy I told her I was bringing ghosted me last week.” As you spoke, you watched him try to think of a way to protect your feelings without going. In the year you’d worked at the BAU you’d come to see everyone on the team as family, but it was Reid you felt closest to. When he didn’t respond immediately, you put your hand on his shoulder. “Spence, I need you.” You spoke quietly, but he heard you clearly.

He looked up at you at your last words, visibly conflicted. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and he sighed, standing up. Knowing you had won, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, nearly sending the two of you tumbling over in your enthusiasm. He tentatively wrapped his arms around you, returning the gesture of affection.

His touch brought with it feelings of peace and happiness that you had come to associate with Spencer. Your smile grew impossibly wider as you thanked him a million and one times, squeezing him tightly as you felt relief spread through your body. Forcing yourself to pull away, you noticed his lips had quirked up into a small smile at your reaction.

“You know, almost twenty percent of weddings are called off. There’s still a chance it won’t even happen.” Spencer mumbled as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself. As you reached the garage, you thanked him again for agreeing to be your date. He just nodded, visibly nervous about the event.

You stopped him before he could start walking to the metro. “Let me drive you home,” you insisted, “it’ll be faster and we can talk over our game plan on the way!”

“Game plan?” He questioned, amused at your choice of words.

“Just pretend we’re going undercover on a case! We’ll get into character and everything. This can be fun if we make it fun.” Spencer seemed unconvinced, but he followed you to your car.

As you drove to his place, Spencer seemed to relax as he started to plan, happy to gain some control over the situation. You knew he hated big events, especially ones with a lot of strangers, but your deep dislike for most of your sister’s invite list meant you’d at least suffer together. Pulling up to the curb, you said a quick goodbye, telling him to be ready in an hour.

When you got home, you jumped through the shower, scrubbing off the stress of the work day to allow family-related stress to take its place. You quickly blew your hair dry, putting more effort into your hair and makeup than you usually did. As you reached your closet, you scanned your dresses for one that would match the maroon tie Spencer planned on wearing. A smile spread across your lips when you spotted it, your fingers toying with the soft fabric as you imagined Spencer’s reaction when he saw it.

You tried to push the thought away, sighing at your own hopelessness. You’d been trying to bury your feelings for Spencer ever since you joined the BAU, but it was a losing battle. You found it impossible to ignore him, despite your efforts to remain neutral in his presence. Your heart swelled at the excitement shining in his soft hazel eyes, skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and stopped altogether at the way his hands moved and flexed when he spoke. The opportunity to spend this much one-on-one time with Spencer in what you were sure would be an incredibly flattering suit was almost worth the stress of dealing with your family.

You slipped on the soft satin dress, admiring how it hugged your curves and flowed around your legs. The plunging v-neck was flattering, but tasteful enough to stave off disapproving looks from older guests, leaving you comfortable and confident. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your appearance as you would a stranger’s. The face that looked back at you was friendly but tense, hands fiddling restlessly with the soft fabric of your dress. It didn’t take a profiler to see you needed to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your mind, taking a few minutes to give your mind rest and ground yourself. Opening your eyes again, your reflection looked much more peaceful, nodding as you decided you were ready to leave. As you drove to Spencer’s, you felt your heartbeat quickening, this time from excitement instead of stress.

Knocking softly, you were surprised to hear Spencer’s footsteps already nearing you, as if he had been waiting by the door. As he stepped outside, your breath hitched. You shouldn’t be so affected by the sight of him, it’s not like he’d never worn a suit in front of you before. It was mostly the look on his face that struck you, his lips slightly parted and eyes scanning your body as he took in the sight of you.

“So what do you think? Good enough to pass for a put-together adult who hasn’t been dreading this day for months?” You asked.

He took a second to respond. “Y-yeah, you… you definitely shouldn’t worry about it. I mean you look great- not that you don’t usually look great it’s just-”

You interrupted him for his own sake, giggling a soft “thank you, Spence. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Understatement of the century.

Soft music played through the speakers in your car, soothing your nerves as you hummed along to “A Sunday Kind of Love” quietly. You almost jumped when you heard Spencer begin to hum with you.

“You know this song?! I didn’t know you listened to any non-classical music!” You exclaimed, unreasonably excited at your discovery.

“I’ve heard you listening to Etta James on the jet a couple times, so I checked out a couple of her songs,” Spencer said simply. You tried to pretend your heart hadn’t just exploded at the implications behind his words. You couldn’t trust your voice to mask your overflowing adoration for the man beside you, so you just smiled and began to sing along quietly.

Oh I'm hoping to discover

A certain kind of lover

Who will show me the way

Lost in the music, you were surprised for the second time that car ride by Spencer’s voice joining yours to sing the chorus. Your eyes shot to his face, but he kept his eyes forward, a small smile the only sign he’d seen your reaction. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face as you sang with him, his attempts at melody bringing a smile to your face. The words seemed to gain meaning as your voices joined together, both looking forward but focused fully on each other.

To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

Love for all my life to have and to hold

Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

Before you knew it, you had arrived. It was as if the bubble that had protected you from the reality of the situation had popped, leaving you exposed to the harsh world that lay waiting for you. Spencer reached out and squeezed your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence, his support, unwavering as you faced the night together.

Nodding slightly, you let go of his hand and stepped out of the car. Spencer walked beside you to the entrance of the church, close enough that you could feel his body heat. As you got closer, you groaned internally at the sight of your mother.

A fake smile stretched across her lips, nodding at a woman whose outfit was so brightly colored you nearly had to look away from the glare. Her smile dropped for a split second when she saw you, but quickly returned with twice the artificial sweetness as before. She called out your name, voice straining with the effort it took to sound happy to see you.

“This can’t be the boy you’ve been seeing! Much more handsome than I expected, how much did he cost you? Just kidding, of course.” Her laugh was somehow faker than her smile. You saw Spencer tense up beside you, and opened your mouth to correct her. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but you were sure your mother would be smug about the fact you and Spencer were just friends.

Before you could say anything, Spencer’s next words sent you reeling.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Glad to finally meet you.” He said as politely as he could, though you could tell he disliked her already. Spencer had never had much patience for people who made jokes at others’ expense.

You were still processing what he’d just said when his arm wrapped around you, gripping your waist. The feeling of his hands on your body was almost too much for you, and you struggled to pay attention as your mother smiled and made smalltalk with Spencer that walked the line between passive aggressiveness and outright hostility.

You finally registered what was happening when your mother made some excuse to leave, off to emotionally torture a new victim. Your head whipped to face Spencer, your mouth hanging open, confusion written on your face.

“Why did you-” you began, interrupted by Spencer’s panicked words laced with regret.

“I’m so sorry, I know we didn’t plan on pretending to be a couple tonight, but she just seemed so smug about it and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just-” he rushed out. Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Spencer, thank you. I’m not mad, I promise.” You leaned into his chest, the arm still wrapped around you tightening. “I guess we’ll just have to pretend we’re dating for the rest of tonight, though.”

The two of you slowly made your way into the church, stopping a few times to chat with relatives who called out to you. Everyone was charmed by Spencer, who played the part of your boyfriend remarkably well. You found seats on the right, farthest from the aisle in an attempt to limit your interaction with other guests. Sitting down, you remembered how uncomfortable church pews were, the hours you’d spent in mass with your family all coming back to you now.

Looking around, however, you were reminded of what had gotten you through it. The stained glass windows that surrounded you created a kaleidoscope in your field of vision, capturing your attention for long enough to forget why you had been uncomfortable in the first place. You looked back at Spencer to find him already looking at you, sending a small blush to your cheeks.

“Did you know that stained glass was originally used in Catholic churches to tell stories from the Bible visually for the benefit of illiterate churchgoers? During the English Reformation, many stained glass windows were smashed and destroyed as part of the 1547 Injunctions against images. In fact, all images in churches were ordered to be removed. If it weren’t for that period in history, more stained glass would likely have- sorry, I’m doing it again.” Spencer’s eyes were cast down at the floor, only to shoot back up to your face when he felt your hand on his.

“I like listening to you. Why did they want to destroy all the images in churches?” You asked, leaving Spencer speechless for a second, seemingly unable to process your request for him to continue his rambling. With a small smile, he continued to explain the importance of the English Reformation to religious art as you watched him adoringly.

The ceremony started all too soon, pulling your attention to the front of the church. As you and Spencer listened to the seemingly endless stream of anecdotes about love and life that the pastor had clearly spent years reciting, your eyes started to glaze over. You pushed thoughts about marriage and family and religion out of your mind, preferring emptiness. Your mind didn’t stay blank for long, though.

Apparently Spencer had noticed your change in mood, because he brought his hand to rest on your thigh in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Unfortunately, you were unable to respond in any way, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand flattened against the satin fabric of your dress. His thumb beginning to rub small circles into your skin, you felt your heart rate quicken. The warmth he brought to your thigh began to spread through your body, suddenly finding the church unbearably hot.

Spencer seemed unaffected by the room’s sudden warming, keeping his gaze locked on the happy couple. You took a shaky breath and tried to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that you were overreacting to what was likely a completely platonic display of affection. The ceremony seemed to drag on for hours, but that might have had something to do with the constant effort it took to mask the desire and panic that Spencer’s touch had ignited in you.

You were broken from your trance of concentration by the feeling of his hand inching higher on your leg. Whipping your head around to face him, his gaze remained fixed on the pastor, pressing his lips together to hide a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Spencer’s hand slowly make its way up your thigh, paralyzed by shock and desperation. His grip tightened as he glanced at your face, reading your reaction to his touch. Before you had a chance to respond, it was withdrawn, the world around you coming back into focus as everyone began to clap. The ceremony was over.

When you went to stand up after the recessional, you nearly stumbled on your weak legs. Spencer stabilized you, guiding you through the pews and through the hallways with his hand on your lower back. As you followed the crowd to the banquet hall, the gears in your mind were turning slower than usual, as if they had rusted in the time you hadn’t allowed them to work through the idea of Spencer returning your feelings. Finding your seats, you and Spencer were faced with one of the greatest challenges of your night: extended conversation with your family and their similarly judgemental friends.

The overlapping chatter of so many people at once was clearly bothering Spencer, but he stuck it out for your sake. You felt a tug in your chest at the thought of the effort it must be taking for him to stay in such an uncomfortable situation. He played his part beautifully, though, responding to the borderline offensive questions directed at you politely but firmly, protecting you from their attacks. Your sister would usually have led the onslaught, but thankfully she was preoccupied yelling at the photographer for some suggestion she’d taken as a personal slight.

When Spencer struggled to answer questions about your “relationship”, you took over. He had never been a good liar, and while you loved that about him, you knew it could blow your cover if you allowed him to continue.

In your story, the two of you still worked at the BAU, having started dating a few months after you joined. You threw in small details from your countless daydreams, centering them around real events so that the tale was completely believable. Maybe too believable, you worried, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you as you talked. Under the protection of a lie, you had finally been free to speak the truth, pouring a year’s worth of pining and affection into your words as you concocted a love story you wished was real.

You heard a band start to play, a bluesy vocalist at the center of the ensemble. The music filled the hall as the newlyweds rose for their first dance. A small crowd gathered around the pair as they moved in synchrony, every step practiced and planned. A few songs later, many couples were swaying together, tonight’s celebration of love bringing out the romantic in most.

You turned to Spencer, nodding your head at the band. “We should probably dance for a song or two, just for appearance’s sake.” Spencer looked uncomfortable, but nodded and followed you closer to the source of the music.

Raising your hand to his shoulder while his landed on your hip, you felt a warmth spread through you as you joined hands. Fingers intertwining, you began to move along with the slow song that had been playing, stumbling at first but moving more smoothly as time went on. You had no idea how many songs passed while the two of you swayed, apprehension and desire swirling in the air between you. It took a second for you to notice it, but as soon as you did, Spencer’s small smile told you he had as well.

The smooth vocals of the singer sounded even more lovely on Etta James’s familiar melody, filling you with an intense emotion you couldn’t put words to.

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love

The feeling in your chest grew as you looked into Spencer’s eyes as the song continued, your chest threatening to burst with whatever magical dust you’d inhaled from the shared breath between your faces. Wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder, you were overcome with a feeling of safety and contentment as he returned your embrace. You swayed together as you began to ponder the cliches you’d always despised, begrudgingly admitting that you now understood the sentiment that nothing in the world mattered but the two of you.

As the song ended, you gathered up all the courage you had, and spoke before your mind could think through the possible negative outcomes of what you were suggesting.

“I need to tell you something,” you started. You felt his grip on you tighten, as if afraid what you would say next would take him from you, but he let you continue. “I think I love you, Spencer.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him pull away from you. You felt cold without the contact, but it was nothing compared to the loss you felt in your chest as you realized what you’d done. He didn’t feel the same way.

You opened your mouth to apologize, to try to undo the damage you’d done, but before you could say anything he was dragging you toward a hallway. Overcome with confusion and fear of losing him, you didn’t realize where you were going until Spencer opened the door to the single-use bathroom and pulled you inside.

“Spence-” you began, the rest of whatever you had been about to say swallowed by Spencer’s lips as they moved against yours with urgency, his hands coming to cup your face gently. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, the coldness you’d felt replaced by the warmest light filling your chest.

Your hands found his hair, pulling him closer to you as you tried to eliminate any space left between your bodies. A frantic mess of hands and lips exploring any exposed skin, you stumbled backwards with the force of Spencer’s kiss, hearing the door lock as your back hit the cold wood. Your hands slipped under his suit jacket, moaning at the feeling of his firm body under your hands. He shrugged it off completely, allowing the jacket to fall on the floor, his germophobia trumped by his need to feel your warmth.

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As the kiss became more heated, you noticed that he seemed to withdraw whenever he noticed his touch had gotten rougher, clearly holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. You smiled into the kiss at the care he showed for you, but your desire to see him fully let go was too strong to allow it to continue. You weren’t sure exactly what he was willing to do, but you took your second biggest risk of the night, showing him what you wanted.

Finding his hand on your body, you laced your fingers between his, kissing him sweetly before pulling away with an innocent look on your face. Spencer stared down at you, confusion clear on his face. You brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it before moving your hand to his wrist. He watched you intently, unsure what you were doing. Staring up at him with an angelic smile, you brought his hand to your neck, his fingers curling around it instinctively.

As he realized what you were asking of him, his eyes darkened and his grip around your neck tightened. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He spoke lowly, a small smirk forming on his lips. “So needy for me. Would’ve let me fuck you in front of all those people back there, practically shaking just from my hand on your thigh.”

You whimpered, turned on beyond belief by this new side of Spencer. His smirk widened at your reaction to his words, pressing his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you.

“Feel that? Feel what you do to me?” He growled. “Let me show you how I deal with pretty little whores like you.” He stepped away from you, eyes hungrily raking over your body as he began to unbuckle his belt. You just stood there, watching his hands as your mind flashed back to all the times you’d imagined this happening. Somehow this was even better than your wildest imagination had been able to conjure.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees” He spat out. The words shot straight to your core, and without hesitation you dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as he pulled the belt from its loops, but frowned in confusion when he didn’t discard it. He walked around behind you, grabbing each of your wrists and pulling them together. Oh. When he was sure the belt wasn’t too tight, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked tied up for him, your whimper at the words causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

He returned to the front of you, leaning down to toy with your bottom lip. “Show me you deserve to suck my cock, princess.” He instructed, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You moaned around his finger at that, and instinctively began sucking on the digit. You hollowed your cheeks around it, running your tongue along the length of his thumb before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the tip. He must have approved of your demonstration, because he removed his thumb, pulling down the clothing restricting him in one motion.

Your eyes widened at his size, his smirk growing when you leaned forward instinctively to take him into your mouth. When he grabbed your hair to stop you, you looked up at him in confusion.

“Good girls ask for permission.” Your eyes fluttered shut at that, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.

“Please, let me suck you off, I want you in my mouth,” you begged. He seemed pleased, his hand still in your hair pulling you forward. When your lips wrapped around his cock the hand on your head pushed you down roughly, making you take all of him into your mouth, the tip pressing hard against the back of your throat. You moaned through the gag, your panties likely soaked by now from your arousal at his dominance.

As he began to fuck your throat, you wrapped your lips around him tightly, timing your breaths so you wouldn’t have to stop for air. Words of praise mixed with degradation fell from his lips as he worked your mouth on him. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling of him against your throat, spilling over as he continued his ruthless pace.

When he pulled you off of him, a dark smile appeared on Spencer’s face at your disheveled state. He pulled you up so you were standing before him, hands still bound behind your back. He stepped back to admire you.

“Look at you, such a mess for me. What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked, voice still commanding but much softer now, genuinely checking in with you.

“I want you, please, need it so bad,” you practically moaned. He moved forward to meet your mouth with his, one hand coming to rest around your throat while the other gripped your hair, fully in control of your movements. He pulled your hair back, breaking the kiss as he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes.

“Jump.” He commanded. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping your legs around him as he walked you over to the sink, setting you down on the cold porcelain. His mouth rejoined with yours the second you felt the bowl of the sink digging into you. As Spencer’s hands roamed your body, he lost patience with your dress, pulling it down so your tits spilled out of the top. You moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth, a skilled hand toying with the other. His other hand lowered to the hem of your dress, pushing it up to gain full access to you.

Spencer moaned against your chest as he felt the dampness of your panties, soaked all the way through before he had even started to pleasure you. His fingers ran up and down over the wet fabric, applying pressure over your clit that sent your eyes rolling back. You made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact when he withdrew his hand, but were quickly silenced by a hand over your mouth.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.” Spencer gritted out, tearing your panties off with the last word. His hand came up to your entrance, teasing you as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness, he moved up to your clit, rubbing circles that left you moaning uncontrollably into his hand. “Can you snap for me, baby?” He asked. You were confused, but you did anyway. “Good girl. That’s your safeword for when you can’t talk.”

Before you could read too much into the statement, he plunged a finger deep into you, causing you to arch your back into him. Your moans still muffled by his hand, he set a brutal pace, adding another finger when he felt you start to clench around him. Tightening his hand over your mouth and nose, he cut off your breath as you approached your peak, your eyes glazing over with pleasure. The high of the lack of oxygen along with the haze that came with this level of submission left you fully pliant, his to play with how he wanted.

Right as your lungs began to burn, your orgasm shook your body, and Spencer let go at that exact moment. The relief of oxygen once again flooding your lungs added on to the euphoria that overtook you, your body shaking as you came down from your high.

You didn’t have much time to recover, as you were brought back to reality with the sensation of the tip of Spencer’s cock teasing your slit. The overstimulation shook you, but with every second your need to feel him inside of you grew stronger. Your whimpers turned into pleas, and in your desperate state you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was too late.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, withdrawing completely.

“I-I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I’ll never-” you were interrupted by an unexpected demand.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say. It. Again.” Spencer gritted out, his eyes darkening with each word.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You said shakily.

A look of satisfaction came over Spencer’s face as he slammed into you without warning, setting a rough pace. You began to chant his new title, and his hand came up to choke you, fingers pressing into your carotid arteries just beneath your jaw. He wasn’t putting any pressure on your windpipe, but your lightheadedness from the reduced blood flow made it feel harder to breathe, the feeling of being owned by the man you loved only intensifying your pleasure.

Spencer towered over you as he continued his assault, his other hand coming up to muffle your moans by allowing you to suck on his fingers. When he withdrew them to pay attention to your body elsewhere, he was confused to see you stick out your tongue. When the wave of understanding washed over him, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Bringing his hand up to trace your cheek, he looked at you lovingly before spitting in your mouth, watching in awe as you eagerly swallowed and met him with an innocent smile that contrasted beautifully with your actions.

As you began to feel the knot in your stomach building again, Spencer increased his pace. Bringing one of his fingers to your clit, Spencer knew you were nearing the edge, and fast. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He ordered.

You obliged, Spencer’s kiss swallowing the moans spilling from your mouth. He followed soon after, sent into ecstasy by the image and sensation of you coming apart under him. As he filled you up, you felt a bliss that you’d never experienced before, using your lips to show him how he’d affected you as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. When you eventually parted, it was quiet for a moment.

As Spencer helped you off the sink and removed the belt from your wrists, massaging the tender skin, you began to laugh. It started out as a small giggle, but it soon turned into a full belly laugh, bringing tears to your eyes. Spencer was taken aback at first, but son couldn’t help but join you. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt, and when you could finally speak again your first words were “we just had sex in a church bathroom.”

Holding back another bout of laughter, Spencer responded, “I have to say, this wasn’t how I imagined tonight going.” He took a step towards you, arms lacing around your waist. “I’m not complaining, though.”

You pulled him down to meet him in a kiss, your teeth clacking as neither of you could hold back your smiles. When you broke apart, Spencer’s forehead stayed pressed against yours. “I love you,” he said quietly, “I have for a long time now. I just never thought you would feel the same way.”

You couldn’t hold back the happy tears that formed in the corners of your eyes. Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, your bodies coming together like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been connected. You stayed there for a while, just feeling each other breathe.

In a few minutes, you’d sneak out the back door of the church. In a few minutes, you’d leave the room with no need for lies to excuse your shared affection. In a few minutes, you’d have to deal with the paperwork that Hotch would inevitably require. But for these last few minutes, all you had to do was hold each other. For now, you were just two people in love, and that was enough.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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dangerousstrawberryshark · 3 years

Text

Random Thoughts: A Dark Past

This came into mind; the Male reader is a prisoner of war and is taken back to the mainland. As usual, me and @softboy5393 fanboying over this.

I went overboard with this.

You were taken by a Titan with a long face, like a horse into its mouth. You fell unconscious during the whole time.

When you woke, you were in some room. You looked around to see where you were, you noticed you had a red armband on your left arm. 'What the... where am I?'

Then the door opened. "Ah, I see you're awake." the unknown person said along with others. He had blonde hair and an undercut style which was pushed back. [This] He also had an armband on, but his was more of a lighter red.

You took the people that walked and noticed that Reiner was there. "YOU DAMN TRAITOR!" you attacked him. You didn't do that much damage before getting pulled off of him.

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! DON'T TOUCH ME!" you yelled trying to get away from them.

"So, you're the guy that Pieck took? You island devils are sure are something." The one with blonde hair said, sitting down. Reiner was dusting himself off.

"I guess we should introduce ourselves? I'm Pieck. You already know Reiner. The one with glasses is Zeke and the one next to you is Porco." The girl- Pieck said. She had long, disheveled shoulder-length black hair, a Greek nose, and relaxed dark brown eyes.

"You probably have questions as to where you are?" you calmed down a bit to respond.

"Yes. And why am I here? Why did you take me from my home?" you said, backing away from them.

"You're in the nation of Marley. And it was Reiner's idea to take you."

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It had been 4 years since you were captured. You've kind of gotten used to the new environment. 'So, humanity didn't die after all?'

You were shocked by the outside world. There were these flying ships in the skies, a cart that was driving without horses leading it. The food you have never seen before. A picture that was too detailed for any person to draw.

"That's a blimp, that's a car, and that's a photograph," Zeke said, showing you everything.

You also got to meet others. "That's Gabi, Falco, Sophia, and Udo. They are the next in line to inherit the Titans."

Gabi looked at you with mistrust. She had hatred in her eyes. "Don't mind her, she hates anyone from the 'Island of Devils.'" Zeke whispered into your ear.

It has taken a while for Gabi to get used to you but in due time.

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You were walking with Pieck, Reiner, and Porco in the Liberio Internment Zone. There were stands everywhere and colorful decorations everywhere. You were amazed.

"Today's the festival, M/n. Ambassadors and famous families from all over the world are going to be here for Willy's speech. Of course, since you're with us, you'll be joining too." Pieck said she was your favorite out of all of them.

"Let's go try some things. Try this." she gave you some kind of dessert with a cone?

You gave it one lick... "WHY IS IT SO COLD?!?!" you said, others were looking at you weirdly.

"What's this?" You picked some triangle-shaped food with toppings and cheese? "Mmm, this is good! I never had anything like it!"

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You had a fun time at the festival but now it was time for Willy Tybur's speech. You sat with the others but Porco, Pieck, and Zeke were requested.

Then the sounds of instruments began to play and Willy came on stage. He bowed before starting. "Allow me to tell you a story."

(This is the entirety of Willy's speech)

"Approximately one hundred years ago, the Eldian race ruled the world with the power of the Titans."

"Between the appearance of the Founder, Ymir, and the present day, Titans have stolen the lives of so many people that the present population of the world..." showed Titans eating people. "Could die thrice over and still not compare."

Then the lights turned red, people appeared covered in blood and screaming. "Because of Titans, and an extraordinary number of races, and the cultures ad histories thereof, have been stolen from the world."

"That slaughter has defined human history and the history of the Eldian Empire. And when the Eldian Empire ran out of enemies, it turned to the killings of its own kind."

You were shocked. Was this the history of your ancestors? Were they like this?

"Thus began the Great Titan War."

"Houses holding eight Titans shed blood in combat among themselves. In these desperate times, one Marleyan saw a path to victory. He was our hero, Helos."

"By artfully waging an information war, he led the Eldian Empire's biggest threats to turn against and kill one another. By joining hands with the Tybur family, they forced the unbeatable King Fritz to flee and retreat to Paradis island." the crowd began to clap. You were awestruck.

"But even exiled to the island, the king still held power. Tens of millions of Titans are capable of crushing the world flat still slumber on that island." the crowd gasps at the revelation and fear.

"The fact that our world still exists undisturbed to this day is pure luck. That is the only explanation our Titan experts could muster up. My fatherland, Marley, decided to take the initiative against the island and sent four Titans to neutralize the threat, but that plan failed and only the Armored Titan returned."

'That's why Reiner broke down the walls.'

"In other words, the Eldian Empire, the scrounge of human history, is alive and well."

"Now, the story up to this point consists of facts known to everyone. The truth, however, differs slightly. From here on, I'll discuss the memories passed down in my family alongside the Warhammer Titan."

"The complete truth will be revealed here and now for the first time. Approximately one hundred years ago, the one who ended the Great Titan War was neither Helos nor the Tybur family." Two people standing side by side to him.

One was represented Helos and the other, the Tybur family.

"The man who brought an end to that war and saved the world was King Fritz. He came to regret the Eldian Empire's savage history and the infighting among his own people."

"Above all, he grieved for the Marleyans and the oppression they lived under. When he inherited the Founding Titan, he and the Tybur family devised a plan." The lights turned blue with King Fritz and the Tybur family shaking hands in agreement.

"To establish a single Marleyan as a hero in the war. His name: Helos. After that, King Fritz moved as many Eldians to Paradis as he could. Erecting the great walls around them."

"He left a warning if anyone threatens his peace, countless Titans would be unleashed in retaliation. However, he never intended make good on this threat." Things began to add up to you. That's why the world hates Eldians. 'I'm not what they say we are!'

He continued. "King Fritz made a vow of renouncing war and bound his successors to uphold it, just as he had. Thus his ideology was passed down to each new King of the walls and the Titans with the power to crush the world remain dormant."

"Marley didn't stop Eldia and pure luck hasn't kept the world from being crushed, it was the king of the walls, Karl Fritz, a man who yearned for peace. That's it. That's all he wanted. He said if Marley grew strong someday and came in force to shatter his peace and seize the Founding Titan, he would accept it."

"He believed the sins his people committed were so horrific that they could never be atoned for."

"When the day of retribution finally comes, I will accept it until then let me enjoy this walled paradise, free from strife and conflict. I ask for nothing but a brief span of peace."

"Those were the final words the king left us with." King Fritz stood next to Willy bowing.

The crowd erupted into chatter. "What does this mean?" Gabi was shocked to along with her friends. You were twice as shocked as they were.

"If what he saying is true..."

"So, Marley and the Tybur family didn't save the world?"

"Willy wouldn't lie..."

"That means Paradis doesn't actually pose a threat, right?"

Willy spoked, the crowd went silent. "It's true, to secure our own safety, my family joined hands with King Fritz and became heroes to the world. While our fellow Eldians became devils but plainly, we Tyburs are petty thieves, growing fat on honor we did not earn."

"I stand before you willingly parting with my false glory because I have come to understand that the world we share is in grave danger" the crowd began to chat again. The drums began to ring.

"With the Founder's might, King Fritz erected three walls, using a great host of colossal Titans..." the background changed to colossal titans conjoining arms. "Counted together, the walls surely contains tens of millions of colossal Titans."

"They guard the King's peace as his shield and his spear or they did, but now, that peace is being threatened from within. An uprising has taken place on Paradis, the king has been deposed, the Founding Titan stolen."

The background changed to a devil. "The thief is an enemy to every man, woman, and child outside his island. An enemy of peace, his name... IS EREN JAEGER." Your eyes widen...

"If the colossal of Paradis are ordered to walk, the rumbling will be felt across the Earth and death will follow. Until now, only royalty has had the power to wield the Founding Titan and King Fritz's vow has kept his descendants from using it, but this Eren Jaeger has found a way to use the founder without having royal blood."

"Which means he could begin the rumbling at any moment. Once the walls of Paradis begin to walk, there will be nothing we can do. Except flee in vain from the sound of Earth-shaking steps that will herald our doom." your face turned into a worried one. Was this going to happen?

"These monsters will crush every city, trample every tree and flower, they will literally flatten our world. I have always hated my blood and more than anyone. I have wished that my race would disappear."

Willy sounded like he gonna burst into tears. " However, I confess that I want to live. That despite everything, I believed this world is my birthright just as it is yours."

"The people gathered here may belong to different races, different nations but if we're to survive this crisis then for the first time in history, we must join as one. SO PLEASE, if you wish to live and lend me your strength, help me protect our world's future!" The cameras began to flash. The crowd erupted into cheering.

"If we work together, we can overcome any obstacle, any threat! I ask each of you to join me as I go to fight the devils who would plunge our world into hell! HELP ME DEFEAT THEM!"

The crowd continued to clap and cheer. "Here and now, as a representative of Marley's government, I send this message to the devils of Paradis!"

"CONSIDER THIS, A DECLARATION OF WAR!" As Willy said that, a Titan erupted from the building behind the stage. A Titan you knew very well.

"Eren..."

#x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine #attack on titan #aot #random thought #attack on titan x male reader #aot x male reader #attack on titan fandom #attack on titan thought

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Sugar & Spice

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: The holidays are here! What better way is there to end the year than with Clay and some cookies?

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: happy holidays, folks! due to popular demand, this year’s holiday special is written for dream. i hope you all sincerely enjoy and have a wonderful day!

You peered down at the bowl in front of you, your eyes narrowing. Needs more... yellow.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you reached across the counter for a small bottle, quickly unscrewing the cap. Holding it over the bowl, you gently squeezed until a single drop fell atop the fluffy frosting sitting in the center. Your lips quirked upward, a twang of satisfaction running through you.

You hummed as picked up the bowl with one hand and grabbed a wooden spoon with the other. Sticking the spoon in, you began to stir, watching with hopeful eyes as the frosting’s hue slowly began to shift ever so slightly. A few moments later, your arm stilled, pride swelling in your chest at the perfect shade of lime green that stared back at you.

“There we go.”

All of a sudden, a beep filled the air, and you startled. Realization quickly washed over you, and your shoulders sank. The oven’s done preheating, you thought to yourself with a flicker of joy.

Flipping around, you slid the bowl across the counter toward the other bowl of frosting you had already made, then turned on your heel. You reached for the oven mitts hanging on the cabinet door, slipping them on with a grin as your fingers fit perfectly inside. You were about to focus your attention on the silver tray of dough you had laid out earlier when a dash of brown caught your attention. You whirled, your gaze landing on a familiar, furry face who was about six inches too close to your precious icing.

“Patches,” you said slowly, eyeing the paw she had raised over the bowl’s middle, “if you’re about to do what I think you’re going to do, don’t.”

She froze at the sound of your voice, her movements coming to a halt as you inched closer toward her.

“Seriously, Patches. You’ll get sick.”

She blinked at you, her big, green eyes scanning your face as her whiskers twitched. You held your breath as you stared back, your fingers crossing behind your back.

Her tail flicked once—twice.

Then she lowered her paw.

You nearly sank to the ground in relief, quickly leaning over to snatch the bowl away and clutch it to your chest. “Thank goodness,” you mumbled to yourself, your eyes squeezing shut. “I thought I was going to have to sta—“

“Hi.”

You yelped, leaping with a start as you whipped around, your fingers curling around the edge of the bowl. On the other side of the kitchen island stood Clay, his hand scratching behind Patches’ ear as she nuzzled up into his touch. As soon as your eyes landed on him, you let out a deep breath, your hand resting atop your pounding heart.

“Holy crap,” you breathed, sending him a shaky smile as you straightened, “you scared me.”

He flashed you a crooked grin, pulling his hand away from Patches. The moment he did, she leapt off the counter, scampering away down the hall. “Sorry. I just I finished streaming and wanted to come see what you were up to.” His eyes darted to the mitts on your hands then the counter behind you. “What are you baking?”

Your lips curled up into a small smile as you placed the bowl of frosting down next to you, quickly grabbing the tray of dough you had made earlier. “Gingerbread cookies!” You sent him a wink. “But with a twist.”

He took a step toward you, blinking down at the array of squares and circles littering the platter before his eyes caught on a particular shape. “Is that... my YouTube profile picture?”

Your eyes curved into tiny crescents. “Yeah! Aren’t they cute?”

He bobbed his head, his emerald gaze crinkling at the corners. “Very.”

You walked toward the oven, pulling it open with a gloved hand. “I have all the icing ready to go for after it’s done baking,” you said, careful not to burn yourself as you slid the tray inside, “and I even got some fondant for your eyes and smile.” You pouted as you pushed the door closed. “I was going to use black licorice, but I figured it might not taste as good.”

While you pressed a few buttons on the stovetop, Clay leaned against the counter, dipping a finger into the bowl of frosting before bringing it back to his lips. He eyed his finger curiously for a moment, then flicked his tongue out to lap up the white cream. He tilted his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he swallowed. “Mm, sweet. You sure put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?”

You walked over to him, leaning over to tap his nose with your clean finger. “It’s a special time of year. It’d just be sad if I didn’t put in at least a little extra effort.”

The smile he sent you was absolutely dazzling, and you could have sworn you felt your head spin at the sight. “Well,” he said, “you went the extra mile, so I think you’ve done more than enough.”

Pulling the oven mitts off, you hung them back on the cabinet, eyeing the bowls of frosting. “I still have to wait for them to bake,” you began, counting in your fingers, “decorate, then clean, but after all that, then I’ll be finished.”

Clay’s hand slid over the counter toward you. “Can I help?” His gaze averted from yours, something akin to embarrassment flickering within. “I-I’m not an artist or anything, bu—“

You put your hand on top of his. “Yes,” you said without missing a beat. “Absolutely. Of course, you can.” A wicked grin flashed across your face. “If you also help me clean.”

His expression mirrored your sly one. “Like I would let you do it alone, anyways.” He wrinkled his nose. “Just don’t send any pictures of the cookies I decorate to George or Sap, though.” He nearly shivered at the idea. “They’ll definitely clown me.”

You laughed at the thought of the inevitable string of mocking messages he would be sure to receive, a wave of affection surging through you. His stare was fond as he added, “How long do we have to wait?”

Your eyes glanced at the timer on the oven. “Like ten, fifteen minutes, tops. It won’t be that long.”

He pushed off from the counter, standing up straight. “What do you wanna do for fifteen minutes, then?”

You hummed, pursing your lips for a moment before your face lit up. “Cuddles?”

He blinked at you once, then chuckled. “Cuddling, it is, then.”

You let out a small victory cry, missing the way his eyes softened. You turned on your feet, gesturing to your backside. “Help me take off my apron?”

He padded up to you with a hum, his hands reaching over to grasp at the fabric securing the apron around your waist. His fingers were warm against the small of your back, and with a few tugs, the knot unraveled in an whirl. You easily slipped the apron off your shoulders and around your head, flashing Clay another grin as you placed it atop the counter. “Thank you.”

When he returned your thanks with a soft, “You’re welcome,” you turned on your heel for the living room. You had made it about five feet when a warm hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in place.

You paused, turning to look at Clay over your shoulder. “Clay?” you murmured.

He raised his eyebrows at you, his smile curling into a smirk as he pointed above the two of you. “Would you look at that.”

You glanced up, and you felt your throat tighten.

Of course. Mistletoe.

You had nearly forgotten he had hung it up the day before, mischief dancing across his face as you rolled your eyes at him. Shaking your head, you couldn’t stop the lovestruck smile from spreading across your face as you lowered your head, your gaze locking onto his. He was a dork, but he was your dork, and that was all that mattered.

In an instant, his arms were around your waist, pulling you toward him until your chests were flush against one another. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up to press your lips to his. He grinned into the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and you made a small noise that only made him smile harder. You ran a hand through his hair, digging your fingers into the base of his locks. He tasted sweet like sugar, and you could have sworn you could taste the frosting he had licked just a few minutes prior.

You parted with a gasp, his forehead leaning against yours as the two of your calmed your beating hearts, his hot breath fanning over your face. His lips were rosy and swollen, his hair disheveled this way and that. You were sure you looked just as messy, if not more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you simply smiled at him.

“Happy now, lover boy?” you quipped. When he nodded, looking like a lovesick puppy, you tugged at his arm with a laugh. “Alright, let’s go cuddle, now.”

You pulled him toward the living room with ease with a bounce in your step, lunging for the couch. With a small cry of victory, you tumbled into the couch cushions, Clay following right after you. The moment he sat down, you flipped over, snuggling into his side as he slung his arm around you.

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, your hearts beating in sync with one another as you simply basked in each other’s presences. You were practically drowning in his warm touch and the steadily growing scent of gingerbread.

Rolling over slightly, you traced a finger over the vein in his arm, murmuring softly, “This year’s been kind of wild, hasn’t it?”

You could practically feel him roll his eyes beside you as a chuckle flew from his lips. “Don’t even get me started. I could spend ages talking about how crazy everything’s been.”

You shifted in his arms, your eyes scanning his face. Something in your chest felt hazy as your gaze traced over the curve of his cheek and the slope of his nose.

“But not all of it has been bad, you know?” you murmured, reaching a hand up to his cheek. As your skin met his, he leaned into your touch, your thumb tracing over the myriad of freckles dusting his face. “You’ve done a lot of crazy cool stuff. Look at how much your channel’s grown—how much you’ve grown. You even won a Streamy award.”

His cheeks flushed, and he buried his face into your hand, his lips pressing against your palm as his voice came out slightly muffled. “You give me too much credit.”

You lowered your hand and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “You deserve all of it and more,” you whispered, just for him to hear. “You’re more amazing than you know. You made your dream come true.” Your gaze was sincere as you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, feeling him shiver beneath you. “Little Clay would be so proud.”

As you pulled away from him, you took in the sight of his rosy cheeks and viridian eyes, his lips parted in awe as he simply stared at you. You felt your face grow hot underneath his gaze, and you lowered your eyes to your lap, clasping your hands together. Even just his stare made you so flustered—was it even possible to be so deeply affected by one person?

After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke. “How did I get so lucky?”

You lifted your chin, tilting your head at him as your eyebrows knit together. “Well, you did spend literal months studying the YouTube algorithm, and you’re still constantly working on videos,” you pointed out. “Plus, you stream, so I wouldn’t necessarily call all that just lu—“

He shook his head, smiling. “No, no.” He looked at you dead on, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “I mean, how did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “What?”

He reached over, slipping your hand into his as he intertwined your fingers together. “You’re not something I can study for,” he murmured into your ear, his voice wrapping around you like a cozy blanket, “or some plug-in that I can code.” Something warm and gooey melted in your stomach. “You’re just you, through and through, and by some miracle, you’re sitting here with me.”

Your face practically burst into flames, and you most definitely felt yourself starting to turn to putty. You wanted to hide your face in your hand, but he was holding it, so all you could manage was a shy whine. You barely managed to catch a glimpse of his cocky grin before you turned, burying your face in his neck.

“Clay,” you whispered, hoping he wouldn’t notice just how hard your heart was beating, “you are so embarrassing.”

You could hear his smile as he spoke, squeezing your hand. “You love me for it.”

You couldn’t stop a smile of your own from stretching across your face as you squeezed back. “Yeah, I do.”

Slowly, he untangled your hands and wrapped his arms around you, tugging you closer to his chest as you sank into him. You couldn’t think of a better way to spend the holidays, all cuddled and cozied up in Clay’s warm embrace with gingerbread cookies baking in the back. As you drank in his cologne and felt his heartbeat ringing in your ears like a familiar melody, you only had one thing on your mind.

You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

Just then, there was a deafening crash and the unmistakable clattering of bowls.

You froze in Clay’s arms, your eyes shooting wide open as his hold went slack around you.

There was a beat of silence, followed by a meow.

Your jaw dropped.

Oh my god.

You didn’t allow yourself any time to think before you scrambled off the couch, nearly tripling over your own feet as you raced toward the kitchen, Clay’s voice calling out after you.

“[Y/N]! What’s going on?”

For a few moments, there was only the sound of heavy panting. Then came a loud wail.

“Patches!”

It was far from a perfect holiday, to say the least, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Prisoner - Bucky Barnes

a/n: hi everyone! i am really excited to share this with you, because this one was written for a writing challenge! it is part of @wkemeup ‘s 9k writing challenge and it’s the first time i take part in anything like this with a Bucky fic! not that i have many but im sure more is about to come lol! let me know what you thought after reading!

prompt: Character A is possessed/controlled and attempts to harm Character B. [B] refuses to fight back in fear of hurting [A].

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: blood, violence, mind controlling, just the usual jazz lol

word count: 7.8k

masterlist

Bucky and you were a pair made in hell. Only that he is the only one out of the two of you who really went through the deepest and darkest corners of it while you were basically just waiting in the lobby, as you like to say it.

He wasn’t the only person HYDRA had plans with. Being an orphan from the age of four, you didn’t have the life you probably deserved. Abducted at the age of twenty, you lived in cells and labs for years before they gave you the serum, turning you into a super solider, with determined plans to turn you into a kind of winter soldier 2.0, eventually wiping your head like his and turning you into the perfect assassin. Only that before they could start with the torture, you were rescued by none other than Captain America during a raid on one of HYDRA’s secret bases.

The Avengers gave you shelter when you had absolutely nothing left in life. Your previous life was long forgotten, almost entirely non-existent, all you had is the safety these extraordinary people were offering you, that you took more than willingly.

You were there when Bucky was captured, still very much fighting with his own conscious. You were in the building when Zemo triggered him into being a murderer again and he broke free, fought his ex best friend, saved his life and then disappeared again. You often found yourself thinking about how you’d be just the same if you weren’t saved. How you’d be out there, used as just a toy to end lives.

You never had to go through the process of ripping this side of yourself out of your head, because they never succeeded with you. But Bucky didn’t have it as lucky as you did. When Shuri contacted you that he was awake from his hibernation and they were working on wiping the winter soldier out of him, you didn’t hesitate to drop everything and be there for him. You didn’t know him that well back then, but you felt like you shared a deep connection through the torturous things you had to go through. You were there for him until he finally became entirely himself. No more winter soldier, just Bucky.

The two of you have tens of missions together behind your back at this point. Partners in work, friends in life, that’s what you are. And in your dreams?

Definitely lovers.

Now as you are rotting in a dark and musty cell somewhere in the middle of Poland, you are starting to regret you never really told him how you feel. You had so many chances to come clear but you were too afraid of rejection and the possibility of ruining your strong friendship and most importantly partnership that you chose to keep it all bottled up inside you.

It might have been days or hours since they locked you in your cell, you wouldn’t know. You lost track of time and you’re not expecting to see the daylight anytime soon either. Are they looking for you? Or do they think you died? No one was around you when you were abducted and there were no signs left behind that would have let your team know you survived. There was a massive explosion near your location in the raid, anyone would easily think that you were caught in the middle of that.

Does Bucky think I’m dead too? Has he given up on me?

You’re starting to think you’ll never find that out. Just like how you’ll never find out what it’s like to grow old, have a home that’s not just a room in a facility, spend your days with your hobbies rather than trainings and missions.

As the thick metal door opens and a creak of light breaks the heavy darkness in your cell, you look up at the man who walks in. If your hands weren’t cuffed with fucking vibranium cuffs, you would easily kill him in a heartbeat along with the three bulky guards he brought with himself.

“It’s time to make a use out of you,” the man grinned before two guards grabbed you by your arms, dragging you out of the cell, taking you God knows here. Probably to your death.

“You have to check twice,” Buckly growled upon hearing Agent Hill’s report from what was found at the scene. Or what was not found.

“No signs of Y/N were found, Bucky. But that explosion was so massive, it wiped out everything in it’s close radius. If she stood close to that…” “But what if she didn’t?!” he snaps, barking at the innocent agent. The room falls silent, no one dares to speak up against Bucky’s raging anger. Fury steps forward and places a hand to the upset soldier’s shoulder as a soft warning to control himself. Bucky takes a deep breath before looking over at Fury, no longer determined to rip anyone apart who wants to argue with him.

“Let’s all calm down and see what we can do. Do you think she survived?” Fury simply questions him. Bucky taps on the panel and a map of the location pulls up on the big screen, showing a little red dot at the places where the team members were located last before the explosion.

“Her last location was far enough of it for her to survive,” he explains pointing at your dot.

“But if she moved just a little closer—“ Hill starts again, but she quickly silences herself when Bucky shoots her another warning look.

“I think she was captured. We can’t just assume that she is gone that easily,” he insists, refusing to even think about the possibility of you dying in that explosion. That’s just simply not an option for him.

Fury stares back at him hard, searching for something in his eyes before he finally nods.

“Alright, let’s get on the case. We need to find out where they could be possibly hiding her.”

Bucky breathes out in relief as the team gets down to work immediately. This is not the part he can help with, he sucks at technical things, so now he is left with just the painful wait until a lead pops up and he can come to your rescue.

The gym is eerily quiet without your bickering. He always trains with you and it’s been one of his favorite things to do. The two of you liked to race in everything and thought you both knew he was faster and stronger, he always let you win a few times, giving you the chance to tease him about being second after you.

But now as he is punching the heavy bag on his own, he wishes he could hear one of your snarky comments about his lopsided moves, because he still hasn’t entirely gotten used to the uneven strength in his hands.

“If she is really out there, I’m sure she is doing fine.”

Sam walks in, his steps echo in the empty room and though Bucky stops for a moment, he doesn’t look at him, just keeps punching the bag.

“She is tough, Bucky. She can take care of herself.”

“Not when she is outnumbered by a dozen,” he growls back. “I know she is tough, but sometimes that’s just not enough.”

For a long time Bucky thought Steve is the only person he can work with as partners, but he had to realize that he had a special bond with you through the tortures you both had to go through and sometimes he felt like you were the only one who understood him truly. Even though your brain wasn’t washed like his, you were close to it and it gave you a great understanding of what he had to go through.

But it wasn’t just about the trauma. As you grew closer to each other you easily became friends, really good ones for all that matters. Bucky loved spending time with you on and out of missions as well. He finds your humor a little dark but quite entertaining, he likes how you are more social than he is so whenever you need to work with someone else you always take the role of the communicator, building a bridge between him and others easily. He loves how much you care about others, how you show your appreciation for your loved ones in the tiny details as making breakfast or baking their favorite cookies. He loves the way you smile whenever he messes up something and you have to take care of it eventually, he loves the way you laugh at his lame, old jokes, he loves how you always fall asleep on horror movies and he loves…

He loves you.

For years he thought he would never feel this way again for anyone, because it’s so raw and human, he thought it was wiped out of him when he became the winter soldier, but you proved him wrong. And now he wishes he told you how he felt, because if you won’t return, he has to live his life knowing you never knew how much you meant to him.

Tossing and turning in his bed, he stays wide awake, not able to even close his eyes when he knows you are out there somewhere, because you have to be. He refuses to nurse the thought of you gone for even a second. You’re qualified, the best fighter he has ever met and he has this feeling in his gut that you made it out of there alive. Maybe you knew the explosion was about to happen. Maybe you ran the opposite way before it was too late. Or maybe you found shelter, or simply was just knocked out of the impact of it and they captured you.

So many possibilities that are way more better than the fatality of your death.

Kicking the silky sheets off his body, the ones he deep down hates because it’s way too smooth against his skin, something he still has a hard time to grow accustomed to, he pulls a hoodie over his head before creeping his way out of his bedroom, down the hallway until he reaches yours. He stands still at the door, a sense of anxiety washing over him as he thinks about what’s inside. Not that it’s the first time he is here, he has spent endless nights in your room, the two of you talking and laughing as you showed him your favorite movies he hasn’t seen. You often bought a big bag of snacks for your movie nights and the two of you sprawled across your comforter, your legs sometimes touching, or there was this one time when he let you braid his hair.

“You should come to missions like this,” he remembers your teasing as you ran your fingers through the neat braids running along his head.

“And give the boys another reason to tease me? No thank you,” he chuckled.

“Another? What do they tease you about?” you asked furrowing your eyebrows as you popped a gummybear into your mouth.

You. It was you they teased him about and how obvious his feelings for you are. Seemingly everyone saw how you looked at each other but you and him.

He twists the silver doorknob before pushing the door open, part of him hoping to see you curled up under the sheets, snoring lightly and peacefully, but the room is terribly empty without your presence.

Everything is just the way you left them. The abandoned workout clothes hanging from the edge of the hamper, your running shoes under the window, your journal lying on your nightstand with a pen on top and his favorite… a framed picture of you and him on your bookshelf with all your favorite romantic novels stacked neatly on the shelves.

Bucky steps closer, his hands hidden in the pooch of his hoodie as he stares at the photo. It was taken a few days after the two of you returned from Wakanda, Bucky was finally free from the winter soldier and it was probably the best few days of his life. The two of you decided to take a trip to London before returning to your duty, a place you always wanted to see, but never really got the chance. It was just the two of you, taking some time away from the avengers, SHIELD, all the bad in the world, pretending like you’re two normal people for just a weekend before returning to your duties in New York. The photo was taken when you returned from the getaway, Steve took it in the gym, the two of you sat at the edge of the boxing ring after a killer fight. It was a simple moment, his arm stretched behind you as you leant against his side. The glow from your alone time was still apparent on your faces, neither of you felt happier in life before, or not at least in the last decade.

His vision blurs as he runs a finger through the frame, a sharp pain stabbing in his chest as he watches your bright smile and rosy cheeks. He never thought he would feel this way about anyone, not after everything he went through, but you proved him wrong. You showed him how much more human he still is that what he thinks of himself and you might not even have realized it.

Too restless to go back to sleep, Bucky storms out of your room, carefully closing the door behind him before going down to Tony’s office, determined to make himself useful. He can’t just sit around and wait, he needs to feel like he is doing everything he can.

When the first rays of the sun shine above the horizon and the first agents arrive for their shifts, He has already gone through an immense amount of security tapes from all around the world that had even the slightest match through the face recognition system with yours. None of them turned out to be real, but he never gave up.

“Barnes, were you here all night?” Tony asks in awe when he finds the long-haired avenger with his eyes glued to one of the screens, watching yet another tape.

“Not all night, but… for the majority, yes,” he nods without even sparing Tony a look.

Any other day Tony would tease him for maybe finally doing something useful, or not only using his fist in a case, but not today. Everyone on the team knows how much you mean to him and how hard it is to not know where you are. So he just nods, places his coffee down to the desk and gets down to work without a word.

Soon enough the rest of the team joins them and everyone is working together to find even the slightest lead. Every other minor case is put aside, you are their priority.

The more time passes by without anything found, Bucky feels like a part of him is dying more and more. Hopelessness and fear is taking over his already messed up mine, but he is still holding onto the light and that small little feeling in his gut that you are still out there somewhere. And then they find a lead.

“We’ve got a match!” Nat beams from behind her screen and everyone gathers around her as a series of blurry photos play in front of them, showing a group of men carrying a clearly unconscious person to a minivan before driving away. The quality is definitely not the best, your face is also half covered by your hair, but your uniform gives you away. It really is you.

“Where and when was this taken?” Bucky asks in a hurry.

“Last night, outside of Krakow. We have one last coordinate for the van,” Nat informs the group as she brings up a map, a red dot signaling the last spotting of the same van.

“There’s a closed off military based near,” Steve chimes in, pointing at the map a few miles away from where the pictures were taken.

“Alright, suit up everyone. Guess we are going to Poland,” Tony announces and a moment later everyone is running off to get ready for takeoff.

The ground doesn’t feel that bad anymore. It’s wet and there’s gravel here and there, the coldness is not too comfortable either, but you are getting used to it. Probably because it makes you feel things and that’s important to you now. In times when you often lose contact with your own body and mind, feelings keep you grounded and they remind you of who you are.

Last night you finally found out who caught you and it wasn’t a pleasant surprise. Aziel Nowak is a name you’ve already heard before, but not in the best way. The guy is totally crazy and if that’s not enough, he is kind of a genius as well. These two never sit well with each other and you knew it was just a matter of time before you had to face him, but you didn’t think these would be the circumstances.

Nowak’s father, Aleksander was a well-known scientist in the circles of HYDRA, he was one of the assholes responsible for wiping Bucky’s head, unfortunately, his own creation brought his death upon him. Bucky killed him during a raid, all while Aleksander was trying to trigger him, but Bucky was faster than him and shoot him in the head before he could get the second trigger word out. Aziel swore to seek revenge for his father’s death and made it clear that his big plan is to take out every avenger one by one, but all during completely destroying Bucky in every possible way.

Stuck in a clear tube, one that was built specially for super soldiers, you stood in his lab as he got everything ready for his master plan with you.

“The winter soldier was full of flaws,” he started to explain to you, working behind his computer while you couldn’t do anything to stop the madness. Even if you could break out of the tube, you were terribly outnumbered with the hoard of guards in the room, all of them armed and ready to rip you apart. It would have been a suicidal mission.

“The trigger words take a lot of time to enlist and sometimes, we just don’t have time for that. We need our soldier instantly, in a push of a button, if I might add,” he smirked and you almost gagged. He was a lowlife, disgusting middle-aged man, completely out of touch of reality, wrapped up in his own head with his ridiculous misconceptions and twisted view of the world.

“But fear no more, I have a better solution,” he grinned at you, holding up a tiny chip between his fingers and your jaw flexed. You didn’t know what it was, but you had guesses. “Spent years working on this little thing and now I can finally test it out and you get to be the lucky one to do it. Start the gas,” he ordered and a moment later some kind of gas started to fill the tube up. Your pathetic attempt to escape was cut off shortly when you felt your whole body freeze as you inhaled the gas. You just stood there, completely no control over your own body. The back of the tube opened with a hiss once the gas cleared out from around you and you felt a sharp stabbing at the back of your neck. You couldn’t even gasp, you were as frozen as a statue, unable to defend yourself and you truly felt like it’s the end. You wish it was though.

Nowak implanted the chip into your spine and you could feel the wires cling into your nerves, melting into your body like a parasite. A single tear rolled down your cheek as your wound was closed off.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Nowak smirked when he walked into your sight again. He had a control panel in his hands and as he pushed some buttons electricity bolted through your whole body and you completely lost control over your actions. Your body moved without your consent, arms and legs acting without your brain actually telling them.

You became a prisoner in your own body.

The night was spent fighting with Nowak’s best guards as he tested out his new toy: you. He could control your whole body thanks to the chip and while you were screaming and shouting in your head, there was no escape. He made you into his ragdoll and there was nothing you could do against it.

He switched the chip off when you were thrown back into the cell. You sobbed for hours probably as you tried to get the thing out of yourself, blood was dripping down your back, but you had to accept that it was too deep, clinging onto your spine, you couldn’t get it out with your bare hands.

Now you are lying on the floor and try to remember who you are, because you’ve been feeling like you lost touch with your true self. The only thing that has been helping is remembering your favorite memories.

It makes your heart flutter when you realize that most of them have Bucky in them. Your most favorite? The time you spent in London. Those days are the closest and dearest to your heart and now you just wish you could go back in time for even just an hour. Strolling down the streets like any other tourists without a worry in the world, watching the city lay in front of you as you ride the London Eye or walking along the River Thames. You felt so normal, so happy, sharing your time with the man you probably love the most in the whole wide world.

“I could live here,” you sighed when the Big Ben came into view above the brick buildings.

“It rains too much here,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at you, his arm brushing against yours.

“I like the rain. Love the smell of it, love how refreshing it feels after it,” you chuckled.

“And what would you want to do here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe I would work at a library. Or a café!”

“You want to be a barista!” He chuckled, smirking down on you. “Is this why you wanted Tony to get a fancy espresso machine?”

“Well, not just because of this, I just really like good coffee,” you smiled up at him. “What, do you not like my coffee?”

“Oh, I do. You make the best in the tower,” he nodded.

You could always talk about anything and everything with him. He understood you so well and you liked to think it worked the other way as well. That you were just as important to him as he was to you.

“Bucky.” His name falls from your lips like a desperate plea, as if you could summon him and he’d be here any moment to rescue you. But nothing changes and you are still on your own.

You’ve been wondering if this is how he felt when they made him to be the winter soldier. If he went through the same struggle or if it was worse. He said he doesn’t remember everything he did, as if sometimes he just completely disappeared in his own head, but other times live vividly in his memories.

You remember everything too. The chip has no control over your mind and thoughts, it works as another brain that takes over control in your body, caging your mind in your own head while it works your body.

A siren rings through the building and you gasp, your head snapping in the direction of the metal door. You hear orders in a foreign language and running footsteps somewhere down the hallway. Pushing yourself up you move to the far end of the room as you hear someone approaching your cell. Before the lock clicks on the door, you feel the familiar electricity run through your body and you breathe out before you lose control over your body again. You stand up, not because you want to, but because this is what they ordered. The door swings open and Nowak walks in.

“Guess your little friends figured out where you are. It’s time to show them my masterpiece.”

The military base is pretty lively for a closed off one. As the team is approaching the complex they inspect the possibilities they have to get inside.

“Alright, we have to be smart about this. Nowak is a psychopath,” Tony announces when the quinjet is nearing the base. “Barron and Natasha, we need a diversion. Banner, you stay here and only come in if it’s needed,” he starts and everyone nods along. “Wanda, the same goes for you as well. Listen to the call word and be ready to interfere. Sam and I are going to clear the main building, try to find Nowak. Barnes, Cap, you are tracking Y/N down. Everything clear?”

“As daylight,” Steve nods as he grabs his shield from the side.

Once the quinjet touches down, everyone goes their own way, going along the plan they discussed. Nat and Clint do well with the diversion, a great amount of guards and soldiers are drawn in their way as Tony and Sam make their way into the main building of the base.

“Where should we look, Buck?” Steve asks his friend as they hide behind one of the quarters. Bucky looks around, inspects the place and nods towards a building that’s clearly powered with a lot more electricity for whatever reason, Thick cables running inside, snaking under the doors, pouring extra power inside. Steve nods and once the way is somewhat cleared out, they head inside.

They take down the few HYDRA agents that try to get in their way as they run further into the building without even breaking a sweat. They easily reach the lab and it almost feels way too easy.

“Something is not right,” Steve says as the two of them walk into the empty lab, curious inspecting all the machines and equipment they have absolutely no idea how to work.

Bucky’s eyes fall on the tube in the far corner of the room and walking closer he gets an eerie feeling and he can already picture you trapped inside, the thought making his stomach churn.

“Anyone found Nowak yet?” Steve asks through the com.

“Negative,” Nat grunts back in the middle of her own fight.

“Haven’t seen the fucker either,” Tony answers and Steve sighs.

Just as Bucky is about to head to the door that leads out of the lab at the other end from where they entered, the sliding door opens and they both get ready to fight whatever is about to come into sight. But neither of them were expecting you to walk out.

“Y/N?!” your name falls from Steve’s lips as he lets his shield down, staring back at you confused. But you don’t answer, just stop a few feet away from them, staring blankly ahead of you and Bucky swears he was on the verge of fainting from his anger, because he knew those eyes all too well, because he used to see them in the mirror.

“Y/N, what did they do?” he whispers desperately, a hand reaching out to you, but it’s quickly cut off when you grab his hand and easily throw him over, his back contacting the floor with a painful thump.

Hell breaks loose fast as you start fighting them off, using the advantage of their shock upon seeing you, working against them while they try to make you remember them.

“Y/N, it’s us! We don’t want to hurt you!” Steve growls when he saves himself from one of your hits, his shield coming between the two of you.

I know! I know it’s you, but I can’t do anything! You scream in your own head, unable to even form the words. You’re a prisoner in this body you thought to be yours, but it betrayed you.

You never fought both of them before at the same time, but now that it’s happening, you’re surprisingly good at it, handling two super soldiers at the same time when one of them has a vibranium arm while the other one keeps throwing a vibranium shield at you, though it’s clear they aren’t giving their best, afraid of hurting you even though you’re in killer mode right now and determined to rip them apart.

“Do you think they did the same to her as they did to you?” Steve asks out of breath when you throw them against a wall and return to fight Bucky.

“It’s something else. Look at the back of her neck!” he growls when you throw a punch in his way that he catches with his metal arm, holding your fist tight as you keep pushing it and this moment of pause allows Steve to take a look at you from the back.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out.

Yes! Take this shit out and I’m free! You scream, but no one hears. Your fist frees from Bucky’s grip and you kick him in the stomach so hard he snaps against the desk behind him and wasting no time you jump right at him, the fight continues.

“If anyone finds Nowak, don’t kill him. We’ve got Y/N and she is being controlled by something,” Steve explains through his earpiece before throwing his shield in your direction right when you’re about to attach your hands to Bucky’s neck. It hits you in the side and you fall to the ground grunting.

“Don’t fucking hurt her!” Bucky growls at him, but Steve gives him a look.

“She is trying to kill us, we have to do something!”

You’re on your feet fast, already charging at Steve and it catches him by surprise, he stumbles back as your knee collides with his stomach, a punch thrown at his pretty face.

“I see Nowak!” Tony’s voice comes through the earpieces, but they don’t have the chance to celebrate, because you’re kicking their ass big time.

When you want to launch yourself at Steve again, Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist from behind and he pulls back, pushing you away, making you stumble, but you’re back on your feet quickly. Your eyes meet and you want to touch him so badly, run into his arms, tell him how happy you are to see him and that he was the only thing that kept you sane, but instead, you throw yourself at him, fist colliding with the side of his head.

I’m so sorry, Buck!

“We’ve got Nowak!” Tony announces and Steve sighs in relief.

“Does he have something like a remote or controller?” he asks while you and Bucky are at each other’s throat. You throw him to a desk and drag him across it, papers and equipment flying everywhere before he ends up on the floor groaning. You have the perfect chance to throw a punch in again, but you turn around and run back towards the door you came through.

“He has a controlling panel, do you think it’s connected to Y/N?” Tony asks.

“Very much likely, but please hurry up, she is trying to run away!” Steve begs as they both start to chase after you in the labyrinth of hallways. You’re footsteps are echoing on the checkered floors as they are trying to catch up with you. You take a left turn and get out of their vision just for a split second. As they get around the corner they immediately freeze when they find you standing there, a gun pointing right at Bucky’s head, a deadly, but still rather blank expression in your eyes.

“Shit,” Steve breathes out.

“Y/N, I know you are in there,” Bucky speaks up.

Yes! I’m here! I’m here Bucky!

“The controller is locked, but we are working on it,” Tony announces through the com, but it doesn’t help their situation right now. If he can’t unlock the controller, you are likely to shoot them both if they don’t do something. As you stare back at your two friends, you are using everything in you to try to get back the control over your own body, but it’s like you’re just silently screaming in an empty, locked room.

“I know you hear me. Please, try to fight it off. I know how hard it is, but if anyone can do it, it’s you,” Bucky continues and if only you were in charge of yourself, you’d already be sobbing at the broken expression he is staring back at you with. Your finger is on the trigger and you can feel your muscles trembling.

“Buck, we need to disarm her,” Steve tells him, but he shakes his head.

“No. We can’t do that without hurting her and I’m not doing that.”

Oh Bucky! That’s the only way now!

“She is gonna shoot, Bucky. We have to do something!”

“She could have already fired. She is fighting it off, I know it.”

“Or maybe it’s just whatever it is inside her messing with her head as Tony is trying to break the controller.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I know you can do this. I’m not gonna hurt you, you can fight it!” Bucky continues, ignoring Steve’s words, who stands behind him with his jaw flexed.

I can’t do it, you need to knock me out! I’m not strong enough to do it!

You are trying everything you can and you are already holding your finger back, you would have already pulled the trigger if it wasn’t for your resistance somewhere in this cage. But you just know you’re not strong enough to stop yourself forever, they will need to disarm you, there’s no choice.

You stare back at Bucky, his forehead and left cheek bloody from wounds you gave him and he probably has a few bruises under his leather jacket as well, all because of you. Nowak made you hurt the person you love the most and now his life is being threatened. You know he won’t fight you, he will not try to disarm you, he would rather take the bullet than cause pain to you, more than what he already did during your fight.

The gun trembles in your hand as you’re desperately trying to gain your control back, sweat beading on your forehead, your chest heaving.

“Stark, we are running out of time!” Steve warns him through the com.

“Just one more second!” he answers, but you’re afraid you don’t have that much time.

“Y/N, please!” Bucky begs, a single tear rolling down his cheek and you can feel your own heart breaking at the sight of him. You can’t believe it’s because of you, you are causing him pain when you swore to work to see him his happiest in his life.

Your jaw flexes and you are on the verge of breaking, the tiniest light flashing in front of you as you keep pushing, trying to take back control, but then you feel like losing again. It all happens so fast, you can barely process.

You know you’re about to pull the trigger, you can’t stop yourself, but just as you are about to do it, Tony’s voice rings through the com.

“We got it!”

In a blink of the eye, the invisible grip that’s been keeping you tight vanishes, the cage opens up and suddenly you feel yourself come alive again as the most painful, deafening and desperate scream rips from your throat, the gun falling from your grip before you collapse on the ground in complete shock of everything that went down.

“Get it out! Get it out! I can’t do this!” you scream, your nails scratching the back of your neck once again, trying to reach the chip, but you’re just breaking your own skin once again, blood dripping down your back.

“Hey, it’s alright, sweetheart. We got you. You’re gonna be fine!” Bucky falls to his knees, cradling you into his arms as you sob into his hard chest, hands gripping the fabric of his jacket tight as your salty tears soak your cheeks, your whole body shaking.

“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you repeat, shaking your head as if you were trying to get rid of the memories, but they are still there, you still know what it’s like to be a prisoner in your own head but at least now you are with Bucky and that brings you the peace of mind you’ve been seeking all along.

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s alright. You’ll be alright, sweetheart, you’re safe with me now,” he murmurs into your hair, his arms holding you so tight it’s starting to get hard to even breathe, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You cling onto him as if your life depends on it and in a way, it really does. Bucky gathers you into his arms as you keep mumbling your apologies and begs to make it stop even though you are not being controlled any longer. He carries you to the quinjet as he keeps murmuring reassuring words into your ear, telling you that everything is going to be alright now. You are in good hands.

You don’t let go of him on the way back and he doesn’t seem to want to do it either. Curled up on his lap, you let yourself fall into a shallow slumber as his fingers are dancing up and down your back, keeping you close to his chest, the feeling of finally being home taking over your senses.

Arriving back to New York you are helped off the jet by Bucky or course as he walks you to the med bay where Dr. Cho is already waiting for your arrival.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll fix you up,” she smiles at you as you are expected to let go of Bucky, but your head snaps back in his direction in panic, hands grabbing onto his anxiously.

“It’s alright, I’ll be here waiting for you. My stupid face will be the first thing you see when you wake up,” he jokes, his tired eyes fixated on you as you hesitate to let go of him, but eventually do it.

Keeping his promise Bucky stay outside as long as you are under Helen’s hands, not able to even drag him away to change clothes. The only thing he can make himself is dragging his ass to the nearest restroom to at least wash the dried blood off his face, but he quickly returns to his previous spot.

It turns out removing the chip is a bit more complicated than anyone thought. The micro wires are so deep in your nerves, Dr. Cho has to be careful if he doesn’t want to paralyze you with just one wrong move. Five entire hours pass by before the chip is finally out of you, before they place you in one of the rooms until you wake up from the anesthesia. Bucky is right by your side, holding your hand soothingly as he waits for you to open your eyes again. When he sees your eyelashes fluttering, he holds his breath as your eyes open and you adjust to the light and the view around you.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” he softly asks, gently brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

“Like… I just fought against two super soldiers,” you breathe out in a joking manner that makes him chuckle. You’re back and he missed you more than he could ever express.

As you let out a long and heave breath, you feel everything coming back to you and you can’t stop your sobs and the tears falling from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky,” you gasp and he is quick to leap forward, one hand holding yours while the other one cups your cheek as he makes you turn your head towards him.

“No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry about, Y/N. You did everything you could, you fought it so well!”

“But I hurt you! I didn’t want to hurt you, I was screaming inside my head, but I just couldn’t stop!” you sob shaking your head.

“I know, it wasn’t your fault! Please don’t think for a moment anyone blames you!” he begs, his bright blue eyes glued to your pained face as you fight your tears back. A hand moves to the back of your neck, feeling the wound where the chip used to be.

“Is it gone?” you ask in a whisper.

“It is. Helen took good care of you. You’re free now,” he smiles and you feel a wave of relief washing over you right away. Your body is yours again, finally.

“I didn’t think I would be myself again,” you admit, your voice slightly shaking. Bucky’s heart breaks at your words, but remains silent as you carry on. “I kept thinking of memories that feel the closest to me and it was the only thing that kept me sane. And I realized that the dearest ones are all with you, Bucky.”

His lips part at your revelation as his heart is beating fast against his ribcage. He has been waiting for this moment to come for what feels like eternity and now it might become his reality.

“When I thought I would never be the same again, I just thought about… you. That I don’t get to see you again, when I always wanted to spend all my days with you, Buck.”

“I want to spend all my days with you too, sweetheart,” he breathes out, leaning closer until his face is only inches away from yours. “I hated the thought of you being gone without ever telling you how I feel.”

“How do you feel, Bucky?” you ask in a trembling voice.

“You are my everything, Y/N. You are my best friend and everything beyond and I was such a fool for not telling you before this, but the thought of losing you made me realize that I have to stop being a coward,” he chuckles with tears bubbling in his eyes. You reach out and cup his face in your palms, your thumb running along the dark circles under his eyes and you wonder if he even slept a moment since you’ve been gone.

“We were both idiots, don’t beat yourself,” you chuckle softly, making his mouth turns into a grin before he leans closer and his lips finally press against yours, capturing them in a sweet, so-good-to-have-you-back kiss you’ve been dreaming about for probably way too long but at least since London. It’s soft and gentle, filled with the promise of many more to come. Thought you’re trying to stretch it as long as possible, a cough is heard from the door and you both pull back, turning your attention at the rest of the team standing there, all of them happy to see you again, or maybe to see the two of you finally taking the step they’ve been waiting for to happen.

“I guess you are feeling better now, yeah?” Nat smirks as she walks further inside, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Much better,” you admit with a shy chuckle. “Thank you for the rescuing, guys.”

“It’s the least we could do,” Sam smirks at you.

“And Barnes would have gone nuts if we didn’t find you so that was also quite motivating,” Tony jokes nodding towards the man by your side, who is still holding your hand as if you could disappear any moment.

“Steve, I’m sorry for trying to hurt you,” you breathe out at the sight of the tall blonde man, but he just shrugs with a warm smile.

“It’s alright. At least now we know that you could easily kick our ass at the same time,” he jokes nodding towards Bucky, though you all know they were holding back, not wanting to hurt you. You still remember the look in Bucky’s eyes when you held him at gunpoint. He could have easily disarmed you but it would have cost you at least a broken arm, yet he refused to lay a hand on you and believed that you could control yourself again.

When the team is gone and it’s just the two of you again in the room, Bucky sits at the edge of your bed, his fingers playing with your hand over the white sheets as you let yourself fall into the sense of safety again.

“You should have disarmed me, Bucky,” you tell him, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I could have killed you,” you retort.

“I know,” he nods, his lips pressing into a thin line. “But I just couldn’t cause you any more pain.”

“The fact that I was hurting you was already a pain, Bucky. You should have just knock me out.”

“Would you ever do the same to me?” he questions and though you open your lips to answer, you realize that he is right. You would have never hurt him on purpose, not even if he was back at being the winter soldier. You could have never hurt your sweet Bucky, the man that means more than anything ever in your torturous life.

“See? How do you expect me to do it then?” he smiles softly. “But it doesn’t matter, you are free now. It’s all in the past.”

“It still broke my heart, seeing you like that.”

“I can only say the same,” he breathes out, his eyes softening on you. “I wanted to help you so bad, but I couldn’t…”

“You helped me a lot,” you smile at him, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of his forehead. He smiles back at you and through his ocean eyes are still looking tired and a little bloodshot, but there’s a tiny little glimmer in them, something you’ve seen before, it was the most apparent when Shuri was successful at ridding him from the winter soldier and you also saw it in London. You’ve been seeking this little shine for a long time and you’re happy to have it back.

“We should go on a vacation,” he suggests, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Oh, I didn’t know avengers had vacation days,” you tease him.

“They do, as much as they want,” he nods grinning. “Where would you want to go? Do you want to go back to London?” he questions as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your bruised knuckles.

“Mm, we should go somewhere new,” you purse your lips. “I’ve always wanted to see Amsterdam.”

“Then Amsterdam it is,” he chuckles before leaning closer he kisses your lips gently with a promise of a bright future together.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#kas9kwc #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes

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thora-jane · 3 years

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Twin-Way Mirror (Pt iv)

Series Summary: You've been friends with the Weasley twins since your first train to Hogwarts, but as the three of you start your 6th year, you start to question if your feelings go beyond friendship.

Summary for Pt 4: You begin to feel something is truly off about the twins as you all start to get ready for the world cup

Warnings: gets the slightest bit spicy, someone briefly isn't wearing a shirt but nothing happens lol

Word count: 2,637

female!reader, 2nd person POV

(a/n): We're back to Twin-Way Mirror BUT! I'm still taking requests! I think it'd be awesome to make some stories any of you want to see! Don't be nervous to reach out and send me an ask! Please!!!! I sit in the college cafeteria every morning for hours needing something to do!!!!! Love you all and hope you have a ~magical~ day <3

***

“(Y/n)! (y/n), get up!” Hermione whispered, shaking your shoulders lightly, “We need to get ready to go, could you wake up the twins? I need to get the other boys.”

You nodded, eyes not fully open as you sat up in bed and stretched. By the time you had rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and looked around, Hermione was already gone. Crawling out of bed, you looked over at the twins. Both of them were still fast asleep, and you tried to recall exactly how heavy of sleepers they were.

“C’mon, fellas, we gotta get moving,” You mumbled, nudging the one nearest to you. When there was no response, you sighed. Sitting down on their bed next to them, you leaned over and tucked his hair behind his ear. Freckles. Taking a deep breath, you placed your lips next to his ear. Without whispering, you woke him up, “Oi, Georgie Porgie. Get up, we need to go soon.”

You felt his leg kick out with a start as he bolted upright, his eyes snapping open and looking around before he saw you. You tried to hold back a smile but failed, and with an exasperated groan he grabbed your shoulders and yanked you over to him. You let out a little yelp as he wrapped his arms around you and yawned.

“How dare you,” he paused, squeezing you as he stretched out his legs, “waking me up in such a violent manner! Do you not care about my beauty sleep? It takes a lot of work to be the better looking one!” this got you to laugh, but not long after that a pillow came flying towards your face. George ducked, turning the two of you to shield you from the impact, “Careful love, I think we’ve awakened the savage beast,” He winked down at you before getting hit with another pillow.

“Savage beast? Speak for yourself Georgie. (y/n), where’s my good morning kiss? I dare say I feel a bit cheated,” Fred pouted. You wriggled out from George’s arms and threw a pillow back at Fred before walking to your trunk and taking out some clothes.

“Bold of you to assume George would even get a ‘good morning kiss.’ And if the two of you don’t get up you’re not going to get a good morning, period. Now c’mon, Hermione said we’d be leaving soon,” You picked up the pillow from your cot and threw it so it hit one of them, then ran out of the room before either had the chance to reciprocate your actions.

You changed as quickly as you could and combed your hair. You knew you didn’t have a whole lot of time to spend in the bathroom with a house full of people, but as you splashed your face and let the cold water drip off your nose, you started mulling over everything that had happened since you got here: Being carried into the house, Fred and George’s jokes about the handsomer twin, the moments where you’d make one of them go quiet, not to mention Fred kissing your forehead last night. It was all rather odd, really. You wondered if Hermione or Angelina would have anything to say about it. After drying off your face and deciding that talking to the girls about it wouldn’t hurt, you left the bathroom and headed back to put your pajamas back in your trunk. Apparently you were too used to having a room to yourself, as you opened the door without knocking.

That was a mistake.

“Bloody hell, (y/n)!” you heard one of them exclaim before you slammed the door and clamped your eyes shut. You weren’t sure which twin was still in their room, but whichever it was, they hadn’t exactly finished changing their shirt. A second later the door swung open again and you did everything in your power to not look up at them again.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” You winced, trying to duck below their arm and get through the doorway without touching them. He only laughed, and turned to watch you tip-toe through the bedroom out of embarrassment. Walking back towards the door and staring at your feet (either out of embarrassment or fear that he’d see your face turning as red as his hair) you had nearly made it out before he stuck out his arm to block you.

“I’m so sorry, I really am,” you stammered out again, still trying to avoid his gaze, “I forgot to knock and I thought you two had gone downstairs and-”

He only chuckled to himself, “It’s alright, (y/n), nothing that hasn’t happened before, and certainly not something that won’t ever happen again, right?”

At this you looked up, utterly confused, “I’m sorry, what?” you caught a glimpse of his jumper, green with a large letter ‘G’ knitted into the front.

“Oh, uh…” he paused, scratching the back of his head, “I only mean that...I’ve been walked in on before and...It’s bound to happen again and...well better me putting my shirt on than something else, right?” he offered a laugh, but after hearing his words leave his mouth it came out more like a wince.

After some hesitation you gave a weak smile, then nodded, “Right, yeah,” he coughed, and you looked down at your feet before pointing out to the hallway, “Let’s get going, then.”

***

The seven of you left the burrow just as the sun had started to rise, George and Fred had been walking with the other boys, passionately talking about who would win the quidditch match and debating what bets to place on which team. Meanwhile, you lagged behind with Hermione and Ginny. When you were sure the twins couldn’t hear you, you leaned over to Hermione and whispered.

“Have you noticed anything different about them lately?” you nodded to the gang of boys ahead of you.

“Well...Harry did mention having a bad dream last night. And he woke up with his scar hurting. We’re not sure what it is but-”

“No I uh...I meant the twins,” You interrupted, shoving your hands in your pockets as you watched them walking ahead of you. Merlin, they had gotten taller, they were practically twice as tall as Ginny and had to walk with their heads ducked so they wouldn’t be hit by any passing branches. One of them (George, you could see the top of the ‘G’ on his jumper from underneath his jacket) was walking backwards. He caught on that you were watching him, and his face lit up before he stuck out his tongue. You waved back, but quickly turned back to Hermione, “Something just seems a little different.”

“Well they’re much taller than the end of last term, and I suppose their hair has gotten a bit longer since the last time you three would have seen each other,” she thought aloud.

“I’m well aware of that,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear in hopes that your hand shielded any blush on your face.

“And they are quite excited about the match today, if that means anything,” she added, tilting her head, “But other than that I haven’t really been paying much attention. Why do you ask?” she turned to you, curiosity in her voice.

“They talked about you practically all summer,” Ginny butted in, “Every other thing they said was (y/n) this and (y/n) that,” She stood up as tall as she could and tried to copy their voice to the best of her ability, “Blimey, Freddie, I sure wish (y/n) was here. You know she would appreciate our refined taste. Oi Ron, (y/n) wrote to you, the least you could do is say hi back to her! Look everyone, (y/n) sent me a letter! (Y/n) sent me a letter! Did Eros stop by, mum?” she sighed, shaking her head, “You’d think you were the only person in the world! No offense, of course. They spoke about you like you were some great celebrity.”

“Did they really?” You asked, rather puzzled as you looked back up towards the twins. George turned around again and gave you an exaggerated wave, with Fred following suit.

Ginny picked up her pace to catch up with the others, but before Hermione could do the same, you grabbed her hand, “I walked in on George this morning.” You almost blurted out.

“What?” she asked, rather shocked. You shushed her before she had the chance to say anything louder and draw attention.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose” you said in your defense, “I just opened the door and he wasn’t wearing-”

“I don’t want to know!” she interrupted in a harsh whisper, but after a moment she asked quickly, “What happened after that?”

“I slammed the door shut and probably turned as red as a tomato. Then when I went back in he sort of awkwardly made a joke about it, but he didn’t seem too bothered? He just wasn’t wearing a shirt, so it could have been way more...you know…awkward.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Well that’s for sure. (y/n), I haven’t the slightest idea what to tell you. You know George better than I do and by the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to be the least bit bothered,” She started to pick up the pace of her walk to catch up with the rest of the group, and you did the same.

“Hurry up kids, we’re nearly there!” Mr. Weasely called out over his shoulder as he ducked under another branch, “Ah, Amos!”

A man who you assumed was Amos Diggory smiled and loudly greeted Mr. Weasley, the two of them talked and exchanged a brief conversation about the weather before you heard Mr. Weasley ask, “Where is your son? Cedric, right?”

Cedric. That’s where you had heard the name Diggory before. Griffyndors and Hufflepuffs shared a potions class last year, and the two of you had been assigned as partners. He was a rather nice boy, and although the two of you didn’t exactly become best friends, you always waved to each other when he passed you in the hallways.

After making his grand entrance of jumping down from a tree, he greeted everyone with a simple nod. It was then that you caught his eye and he jogged over to walk beside you.

“(y/n), I didn’t expect to see you here. What a pleasant surprise if you don’t mind my saying so,” he smiled, and you could have sworn you saw Hermione and Ginny give each other a look out of the corner of your eye.

You nodded, “Yeah, the Weasleys were nice enough to invite Harry and I. How has your summer been, Cedric?” You looked over at him, trying to ignore the twins entering a small shoving match a few feet away.

“Oh it was quite nice, and you?” Cedric was always so polite, and that had proved helpful in potions with Professor Snape. The class was by default unbearable; the cold and dark and dank dungeon, Professor Snape’s face always glaring down at you over your shoulder, his comments on your insufferable eagerness to learn magic, on most days having Cedric as your partner was what made the actual class time worthwhile.

“Ah yes, the dynamic potions-brewing duo reunited once again.” Fred interrupted, slinging his arms over you and Cedric’s shoulders, startling both of you.

“It’s nice to see you too, George,” Cedric smiled, looking rather ruffled by the surprise.

“That’s not George,” you corrected, swinging one arm over Fred’s shoulder and the other over George beside you, nodding your head in his direction, “this one’s George.”

Cedric looked over at you in casual awe, “how do you do it, (y/n)? How do you tell them apart?”

You pulled the three boys closer, throwing your head back with a laugh, “Well it takes some practice. But it’s actually quite simple, you see-”

“Hurry up now! All of you! Gather round, it’s almost time!” Mr. Weasley called out, getting the four of you to jog up to join the group gathered around an old boot. George turned his head to Cedric, but didn’t take his eyes off you, “Come now, Ced, a magician never reveals his tricks.”

You looked back at him, pressing your back to his chest to reach out and place your fingertips on the boot, “Georgie, we’re all magic.”

Before he could respond, you felt your whole body’s weight lurch forward and your feet leave the ground, gravity hooking around your abdomen as the group of you took off spinning. At one point, you felt you were going to go flying off away from everyone. George must have felt this two, and you felt his arm wrap around your waist and pull you closer. You thought you heard Mr Weasley shout for all of you to let go, and before you could process what it was he was saying, George let go of the boot. You felt him fly away and, with his arm still around you, you were yanked off with him.

The two of you landed with an oof, your back still pressed against George’s back. You could hear him groan from beneath you as you rolled off him and scrambled to your feet, turning back around and offering out a hand to help him up. He smiled weakly, squinting up in the bright light as he reached out and grabbed your hand.

You weren’t sure what to blame, his arms strong from playing beater for Quidditch the past four years, or how you were still dizzy from your ride through the portkey. But what you did know was one moment you were standing, offering to help him up, and the next he had pulled you back on top of him.

The two of you froze, not breaking eye contact. You could see the horror grow on his face and blush creeping up on his ears. And, by the feel of it, your face was about the same. Neither of you moved or said a word until you thought you overheard Fred groan and Cedric laugh from over to the side.

“Sorry!” He cried out, a bit embarrassed as he shoved you off him and got up to his feet, now offering his hand to pull you up, “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

You reached up, clearing your throat as you tried to not look flustered. You weren't quite prepared for how quickly he tugged your arm though. Once again the two of you found yourselves rather close, your chests pressed together from how quickly he pulled you up.

“Oi, you two!” Fred called from behind you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him, “We’re gonna lose the others if you two don’t stop rolling around in the grass.”

You slung your bag over your shoulder and jogged to keep up with Fred’s big steps. You could see the big goofy grin on his face and couldn’t help but laugh. You’d seen the twins excited over pranks, but this was a different kind of excited; innocent, wide-eyed, wholesome (or as wholesome as the twins could get). Watching his face strain from all his smiling, you couldn’t help but laugh. He looked down at you with a sort of glint in his eye you couldn’t remember seeing before and he let out a chuckle as he loosened his grip ongeo your hand and spun you around.

“I don’t suppose you’ve been to a quidditch match outside of school. Have you, (y/n)?” He asked, keeping his hand in yours and swinging your arms back and forth.

“No, I don’t suppose I have,” you answered, “but I can’t wait.”

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #george wealsey imagine #george x y/n #george weasley #george x reader #fred x y/n #fred weasley #george wealsey x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #fred and goerge weasley #weasley twins #requests anyone?#requests are open #requests open

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