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strniohoeee · 3 months

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Hidden In The Shadows

Part 2 Here

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Following a lesson about this town that seemed to suddenly vanish, Y/N is intrigued to figure out what truly happened. However she might’ve bitten off more than she can chew….

Warnings⚠️: Nothing crazy, talks of/explanations of a cult, creepy rural town. This was from a Drabble about matt based on a type of horror movie he’d be done by @gamermattsgf she’s wifey and I had to adapt this into an imagine😫 @st7rnioiossblog

Song for imagine: Oblivion- Grimes

I never walk about after dark

It’s my point of view

Cause someone could break your neck

Coming up behind you

Always coming and you’d never have a clue

Moving out of my hometown wasn’t on my bingo cards for this year and moving out of my hometown for a research project was 1000 percent not on my bingo cards. Yet somehow I was packed up and on the road within three months of starting my project.

I’ve always had a weird niche for all things history, but especially history that just seems to vanish into thin air. I began to become extremely interested in towns that are no longer on the map due to poverty, weather change or even these people becoming hunters and gathers. Packing up and moving out in an instant. It all started in my senior year of college. I was studying geography at my local four year college in my hometown of Nevada.

Honestly I hated college all the long hours, all the homework and also having a full time job on top of that, but I had a full ride so I decided to suck it up. My very last year I had some space for a filler class that got me extra credits so I landed on the study of United States Lands focusing on increase and decrease of population throughout the recent centuries.

Personally I thought the class was going to suck, but to my surprise my professor was amazing. Towards the end of my final semester we began to learn about Pleasant Town Oklahoma. A once booming town immediately vanished off the face of the earth.

“Now class you may be asking yourself why was this town so rich? And I’m here to tell you it’s because the mayor at the time in the year 1915 had connections with our president. They hid money, fabrics, food and all types of expensive items within this small town” Mr Wayne stated

“I mean with hiding all this stuff how did they become so wealthy?” One guy had asked, my eyes darting to him

“They were being paid off for hiding these things, however the money was dirty money, so they created many businesses to get the cash flow moving. From one store to one man’s pocket to the next and then next thing you know that dirty money is in George's hand who lives in Virginia! It was all an amazing scheme, very smart. But as you can see it didn’t last long nor did it end well” He had stated as he clicked the laptop to show the next slide shown on the board

“Within three years of this operation this small town alone was bringing in about $100,000 a month which is over $2 million dollars in today's money. So then you ask yourself how does such a rich state with so much money just disappear? And all the money too?” He states scratching his chin

“So Professor Wayne….what exactly happened to them?” I asked after raising my hand

“No one really knows” he states uncrossing his arms and leaning off the desk

“I mean there has to be a reason right? That’s a lot of money to just disappear” I state as I jot down notes

“Well here’s the other thing, there are many rumors dating back to the creation of Oklahoma which was 1907. Sources have stated that Pleasant Town is evil and I’m talking demonic evil. People have said the reason the cash flow never stopped was because they were all a cult and seemingly used one another as sacrifice.” He stated clearing his throat

“Sacrifice?” I questioned raising my eyebrow

“Well yes! In many cultures it is stated if you do a blood sacrifice for the devil and/or sell your soul then your wishes shall come true. Their wishes were to stay wealthy. This came with problems however” he says as he sits down at his desk

The whole class was on the edge of their seats waiting for him to go on.

“Many of these men had short arms and deep pockets. Making it very easy for one man to kill the next out of greed” Wayne goes on

“And didn’t they get caught? I mean the president wouldn’t allow that” one classmate states

“Very true! The town was very small, only about 80 people now if 10 people suddenly die many eyebrows are raised. For a while they covered up the stories claiming a sickness like smallpox. The mayor decided to bring animals claiming this would make them richer since they produce meat, eggs and milk. Now he wasn’t wrong, but the animals were used in these blood sacrifices to hide their tracks” he says nodding his head

“God these people were ahead of their time” I blurt out and crossed my arms over their chest

“Oh they were, but that might’ve costed them their fortunes and their town” Professor Wayne states

“So that’s it? They just left? And what now?” I asked him

“It’s stated that they just separated, leaving most of the money to the whole state of Oklahoma. Afraid the president was after them or maybe they danced with the devil for too long and ended up paying the price” he states bluntly

“And the price is?” I asked him

“Death” he says frowning a bit which caused a chill to run up my spine

“But this is all speculation. About 30 years later Pleasant Town was rebuilt and supposedly none of that cult stuff was brought to that town. And till this day it’s still up and running. I believe the population is only about 200-250 people max?” He says rubbing his chin in thought

“I mean that’s just sad… we’ll never know the truth” I said to him shutting my notebook

“I mean you could always go and visit, spend the summer there. See what it’s like……anybody up for a challenge” he says laughing as the class shudders in fear and averts their eyes to the floor

I mean I was super interested in this lost town with such a dark history that suddenly reappeared 30 years after weird cult shit was happening. I could always take the summer off from work since I graduate in May….. take a road trip to Pleasant Town Oklahoma. Find the real history and report back to Professor Wayne.

My thoughts were interrupted when the bell rang and he bid his goodbyes to the class. Everyone was quick on their feet out of the door, but I stood back very interested in talking to him.

I trotted over to his desk as he shut his laptop, stuffing it into his book bag. His eyes darting up once he felt my presence

“Ahh Ms. Y/L/N…. You seemed very intrigued with today's lesson, planning a weekend getaway?” He asked me playfully

“Funny that you mention it because I was thinking more of a whole summer get away” I stated

“A whole summer?” He says brows lifting immediately

“I’m really interested in this town. I mean a mayor in on cult rituals to bring tons of cash in and the president not having a clue? And then they just vanished? This is like a movie sir” I state as I ramble on

“I mean it’s all just speculations Y/N” he says smiling at me

“I know sir, but is there any way I can get your research on this town so I can study it a bit more? I plan on building a whole case for this and figuring it out” I pleaded

“You’re really interested in this aren’t you?” He asks opening his bag up

“I really am Professor Wayne” I say back

“Here, but listen this is a tight knit community. Don’t go digging your nose where it doesn’t belong. Tread lightly this isn’t your turf, okay? In a town like that with such a small population and a dark history, you don’t want any enemies” he says handing me the folder titled “Pleasant Town”

“Yes, and thank you sir” I stated nodding my head

After that I finished my final semester two months later in May. Between work and classes I built up more of a file on this town jumping from a folder to two binders stacked with information.

Two days after my graduation I did some research on the town. This place had no hotels, no motels and for sure no air bnbs. That’s where I ran into my first problem, attempting to find a place to stay.

Searching on Zillow I had found a house for rent. In the middle of nowhere. One gravel road and corn fields. From the pictures it did seem there were few houses across and next to it, so I figured that was perfect. I'd make friends with neighbors.

I mean the house was decent for the area. Seemed to be a two bedroom two bathroom house. The bedrooms upstairs, one bathroom down stairs and one upstairs. Had a pretty average sized kitchen in the back of the house, a dining room to the right of the front door, a living room to the left of the front door, the stairs faced the front door, and then there were small hallways that lead to the kitchen. And there was a basement that seemed small, well kept and empty. It sucks to say I actually liked the place

My second problem began when I called the realtor a very old southern man by the name of Beaufort Smithson. I dialed him that morning and from the moment he heard my accent he seemed to turn a cold shoulder.

“Please sir” I pleaded with him

“Listen ma’am you sound young and not from these parts. What bring someone like you around this small town” he states deeply

“Well I’m from Nevada and it’s just so crazy here and I’ve been looking to stay somewhere a few states away that’s quiet and small” I state

“But you’re looking to rent from June 1st to August 31st…. We do 7 month rentals” he says bluntly

“Well I want to see it I like it first” I say lying through my teeth

“Can’t you see from the pictures if you like it or not” he says sucking on his tobacco tucked in his lip

“I can have the full rent for those three months ready for you in cash” I state desperately

“In cash you say” he says as I hear his chair squeak from underneath him

God these people really were money hungry till this day…

“Yes sir $800 a month for 3 months I can get you that $2,400 in cash June 1st” I state

“Well little lady you have yourself a deal. Now get yourself a pen and paper and jot this down. June 1st 12 in the afternoon we’re going to meet at the gas station in Pleasant Town” he states spitting his tobacco into a styrofoam cup

“Uhhh what gas station is that sir?” I ask as the pen dangled in my hand

“Sweetie we only got one gas station down yonder….you can’t miss it” he says chuckling

“Right…. Well thank you Mr. Smithson, my names Y/N Y/L/N, and I’ll be seeing you on June 1st” I state

“Well alright darling see you then” he says chuckling

“Oh by the way I look like-“ but I was cut off

“Oh trust me I’ll know what you look like…..safe travels” he whispers before hanging the phone up on me

That phone call made me slightly regret my choices of spending my summer with some shit kickers than on the Las Vegas strip…..

I spent the last two and a half weeks packing, purchasing what I know I won’t find in Oklahoma and doing more research.

I think I was on page 4,000 on google before I found a new article with information I hadn’t seen before. I placed my plate of pizza down as my eyes scanned the laptop screen quickly.

It was a newspaper clipping dating back to the year 1953. Only 70 years ago…. Interesting. The title stated “Farm owner questioned in the massive slaying of all his animals” my brows furrowed.

There’s no possible way that 70 years ago these cult killings continued? But my fingers scrolled down further as I began to whisper

“Confused and angry farm owner, Thomas Sturniolo was seen today yelling at cops as he was taken out of his small Pleasant Town home. After all his farm animals died and weird things happened around town he was suspected of killing his animals in a weird cult-like way. Demanding he be let loose, and that the town was crazy and out to get him because he is the wealthiest farmer. Insisting his competition killed his livestock and not him.”

My eyes couldn’t believe what I was reading…this was pretty recent honestly. This was happening around the time my grandparents were young children… I printed those news clippings out along with many other clippings of his arrest, his release and his disappearance…..

Adding them to my binder as I finished my pizza. This was so insane to me, and this would make a great conversation with professor Wayne after my studies.

I opened up my email and decided to email my professor.

Hello Professor Wayne! I hope your summer treats you well. In about three days I am off to study the lost town of Pleasant Town Oklahoma. That folder of information you gave me has grown into two large binders, and I found more information today. Down below you’ll find links to news articles dating back to the 50’s about weird cult animal killings! I think you’d find it fascinating! I’d like to update you here and there through my three month stay, and then maybe when I get back we can discuss all my findings over lunch! Thank you for your time! Hope to talk to you soon. -Sincerely, Y/N Y/L/N

Two days later I was all packed up into my car. About four large luggage and two duffel bags…. I was well prepared to say the least. Saying bye to my family and friends I began my venture to Pleasant Town.

My venture was a full day, and I made sure I counted for gas breaks, nap breaks and food breaks to make sure I got to Mr. Smithson at 12 on the dot.

June 1st 11:25 am- 35 min ETA Pleasant Town Gas Station

I was coming across the entrance to the town. I was jamming out to SZA, bobbing my head I looked over to my right smiling as I read the sign

“Welcome to Helltown….once you get in you’ll never get out!” It read

My smiled dropped, I snatched my sunglasses off my face and turned the radio down….. a cold sweat began to form on my back as I looked in the rear view mirror

What the fuck was that? I was becoming increasingly anxious and wondered if I just made the worst mistake of my life. I rubbed my lips together in anxiety as I gripped onto the steering wheel harder.

I chose to shake it off, there has to be a logical explanation for this I thought to myself. Putting my sunglasses back on, I turned my music up a little bit and continued down the silent road.

My map told me 1 minute, and slowly I pulled up to a very old and very dusty gas station. Coming to a stop as the gravel left a smoke trail ahead of my car.

I put the car in park and hopped out, stretching my back and cracking my neck. Suddenly an old man hopped out of his large red truck. Spitting tobacco on the ground as he waddled over

“You, young lady must be Y/N?” He asks as he sucks the tobacco

“Yes sir I am” I state as I smile and place my hand out to shake his

Looking down as he smacks his lips, he firmly shakes my hands.

“Good to met ya, welcome to Pleasant Town” he states coughing

“Thank you Mr. Smithson” I state smiling once again

“Well uhh” he states smiling at me

“Oh right” I say, eyes going wide as I walk over to the passenger side. Grabbing the envelope with all the money in it.

“Here you go, $2,400 cash” I state handing the envelope over to him

He grabs the envelope and takes the money out, beginning to count it

“300,400,500-“ he says flying through the money

“Uhh what’s with the welcome sign saying welcome to Helltown? Once you get in you’ll never get out?” I ask pointing over my shoulder

He immediately stops counting, sucks his teeth and looks up at me through his lashes

“Idiot teenagers who have nothing better to do than destroy property that isn’t theirs” he states as he goes back to counting

“Oh…” I state rocking back and forth on my heels

“Alright it’s all here! Thank you sweetheart. I’ll drive you to your house just follow behind me” he states stuffing the money back in the envelope

“Thank you sir” I state as he turns and walks back to his truck

I hop in mine and wait for him to go, following closely behind him I take in the surroundings. Trees, dirty roads, corn fields, farm houses, large stacks of hay and pretty decent sized homes. They were just super outdated.

It was only about a 15 minute drive, but man it felt like forever. I’d hate to get stuck with no gas on a road like this.

Pulling up to the house he pulls onto the gravel driveway as I do too. We both hop out and we walk towards the house. We walk up the steps and wait on the front porch as he digs around for the keys.

Looking around I take in the surroundings, there’s quite a bit of farms around here…. My thoughts are interrupted when he finds the keys and opens the door. Allowing me to walk in first

“I had my crew clean up the place for you” he states shutting the door

“Oh, do you own a cleaning company?” I ask looking at him

“No.. I get these young boys out here to do what needs to be done around these parts” he states bluntly

“Oh the young teenagers who mess around” I say laughing

“No, I send those boys to work the corn fields…. The older men do the hard work round here. The cleaning, the lifting, the shootin” he says sucking the tobacco

“Shooting?” I ask as I turn to face him

“Yup they shoot the ones for my man down under” he states looking me dead in my eyes

“What?” I ask as I began to get nervous

“Oh I’m sorry sweetheart I must be confusing you, you see my dad loved to hunt but he’s too old now and lives in my basement. He has me send out the young men to shoot for him and bring him back some animals” he states chuckling

“Ohhhh yeah” I say laughing awkwardly

“Well young lady this is your home now” he says handing me the keys.

“Thank you” I say meekly

“You got your dining room, living room, and kitchen all down here fully furnished as you can see. Bathroom down here one upstairs and both bedrooms upstairs. Oh uhh I’d suggest food shopping early in the day, you don’t want to be out late at night around here….that is due to the wild animals of course like bears and coyotes” he states looking at me

“Of course” I say nodding politely

“Make sure you lock your doors at night. Especially the back door….. animals in the kitchen are never a good thing” he says turning around to head to the front door

“Got it” I state

“And uhhh we’re a family here….youre house is my home….or whatever the saying is….my house is your house….ah you know what I mean” he says shaking his head

We bid our goodbye and I watched him drive off. My hairs on the back of my neck are standing up. This whole conversation was making me nervous and uneasy. One other thing I realized was I’d be having no WiFi here. However my phone had 5G and the service wasn’t awful here shockingly….. I immediately sent an email back to Professor Wayne

“Just got here! The house is actually super nice. It's very historical and artsy. The realtor is a total creep though. His name is Beaufort so that explains a lot! He said some weird things and made weird analogies. Making it seem like beyond the naked eye there’s more to this town…. I’ll keep you posted”

I hit send and slid my phone back into my pocket. I placed the keys in my front pocket and walked outside. The warm sun kissed my skin as I squinted. Walking over to my car I popped the trunk and began to take my luggage’s out.

Suddenly I felt like there were eyes on me. The way the area got super quiet. So quiet you could hear a pin drop. I looked over my shoulder in the least scared way possible. There was nobody there. I rubbed my forehead and let out a breath.

“Y/N relax” I whispered to myself as I took my last luggage out

However unbeknownst to Y/N, she was in fact being watched. A young man on the second floor of his parents house. He stood in his room peering at the young woman through his sheer curtains.

His gaze was dull as he stared out the window, sweat trickled down his forehead, his mouth hung open slightly and his breathing became deep. His fingers swirled and tugged at his red flannel.

She was like out of a movie. He had never seen a woman like that down here. Those are the ones his mom warned him about. The type who didn’t like boys like him, the type he should….hate. However when he looked at her he couldn’t hate her….she seemed precious….precious just like his horse Bertha.

“Young Man! What did I tell you about standing at that window” he heard from behind him, he jilted and turned around

“I’m sorry mama…I wasn’t doin nuffin” he states as he looks at her

“It is not polite to stare at people you aren’t a child anymore. You don’t do that” she says to him

“I wasn’t looking I swear” he says with pleading eyes

“Well you go on now. Your father and I are leaving for the afternoon” she says to the boy

After his mom leaves he pears out his window again. The young woman had stopped to talk on the phone. He was so fascinated by her he simply couldn’t look away.

I hung up the phone after saying bye to my mom and pulled out my second luggage. Rolling it into my house and coming back out to get my third luggage. I huffed out a breath of air and wiped the sweat off my forehead

I leaned over to get the third luggage but it was stuck on something. I sucked my teeth and began to tug on the handle harder.

“Need a hand ma’am?” I heard from behind me

“OH SHIT” I yelled turning around and grabbing my heart

“Oh im sorry darling I didn’t mean to scare you” the young man states backing up a bit

“No it’s okay, I’m new to town so I’m a bit jumpy” I state shaking my head

“My apologies for sneaking up behind you, may I help you?” He asks looking at my trunk

“Yeah please that would be great” I say smiling as I tried to control my breathing

The young man grabs both of my luggages for me and I grab my duffel bags. We walk to the house and he leads the way to my other two luggage’s.

“Thank you so much” I say placing my bags on the couch

“My pleasure sweetheart” he says nodding his head

“I’m Y/N” I say sticking my hand out

“I’m Matthew, but I go by Matt” he says wiping his forehead with the inside of his shirt. The shirt lifted just enough for me to get a perfect view of his lower stomach.

Damn…why were the shit kickers in a creepy town always so hot…. I guess the movies aren’t wrong..

“Well Matt thank you once again, can I offer you some water?” I ask him

“Water would be nice” he says smiling a bright smile

We walked to the kitchen and I found some old glasses left behind. I rinsed it with water and then gave him some water from the sink.

He drank the full cup, allowing the water to dribble down his chin and to his neck. My gaze ever so slightly following the head of water.

“So, what brings you to this part of town darling?” He asks, his accent so thick I couldn’t even focus

“I come from a busy town and I’ve always wanted to move to a small rural area. Pleasant Town seemed just right” I state licking my lips

“Once you see what this towns like you’ll go running for the hills” he says smirking darkly

“What do you mean by that?” I asked clearing my throat

“Well we hunt, we drink beer til we’re piss drunk and race in old cars for fun, we sneak into farms at night and tip over the sleeping cows…. Amongst many other things” he states handing the glass back over to me

“Oh that’s nothing compared to where I’m from” I say placing the glass in the sink

“And that is?” He asks crossing his legs as he leaned against the wall

“Las Vegas Nevada” I state nodding

“Never been” he states

“You should visit one day” I say

“If I ever leave this town” he states swallowing thickly

“If you ever leave?” I question once again

“Well you know this place is home I don’t know how I’d do in a big place like that” he says smiling at me

“I suppose you guys are pretty far behind on a lot” I say giggling

“Oh trust me aren’t we all” he says kicking himself off the wall

“Well uh thank you so much Matt I don’t mean to keep you” I say to him as I begin to walk out the kitchen

“Oh no worries darlin” he says as he follows behind me his thick cowboy boots hitting the wood in all the right places

He opened my front door and began to head out

“I’ll see you around neighbor” I state to him

“See you around, oh and if you ever feel like there’s eyes on you….that's because there is….you know small town haha we can’t escape each other” he says coldly before adding a laugh at the end

“Right…right” I state smiling at him and blinking quickly

I watch him walk across the street and head into the home. I lock my car doors and shut my front door. Locking the door before walking to the kitchen back door, locking that one as well.

I spent the rest of the day sweeping up, cleaning and setting up my room. I hadn’t realized how late it gotten or how hungry I was till my stomach growling woke me up from a small Power Nap.

I got up and realized it was 8pm, I wasn’t sure what food stores would be open, but it was worth the try. Ignoring the warning not to go out at night I grabbed my house keys and car keys.

Locking the front door, I got into my car. Turning it on I put it in reverse. I looked over my right shoulder and when I went to look over my left Matt was there and had banged on my window.

I jumped out of my skin and hit the breaks. Rolling my window down I was breathing heavy

“Sorry sweetie” he says as he looks down at me

“Is there something I can do for you?” I asked him genuinely curious

“Oh me? No no, but you, you shouldn’t be out at this hour” he states

“It’s 8pm though?” I say furrowing my brows

“Yeah well the bears and coyotes come out this time” he says tapping the hood of my car

“I’m just running to the local store” I say

“You shouldn’t be out at this hour” he says again a bit firmer

“Umm okay” I say to him, remember what Professor Wayne said “no enemies this isn’t my turf”

I placed the car back in park and got out. Shutting the door and locking it I looked at Matt, a shot gun in his right hand as my eyes darted up.

“Don’t worry darling this ain’t nothing special. I use this to hunt” he says to me as he moves the gun back a bit

“For uhh Mr. Smithson’s dad?” I ask as my eyes slowly track up to his

“Oh no I do a different type of hunting for him” he says clearing his throat

“Do you now” I say rocking on my heels

“I get the animals causing issues for us here, the ones eating up all our crops. We can’t have those round these parts” he states chuckling

“Yeah…yeah bad for business. I’m going to head in for the night then” I say pointing behind myself

“Well alright now! You have a great night” he says in a whisper while offering me a smile

I smile back before turning in my heels and heading back into the house. Locking the door immediately as I run up the stairs.

I decided to shower and eat some leftover snacks. By this point it was midnight and I decided to brush my teeth so I could lay down for the night.

Shutting the bathroom light off I walk into my dark room using the brightness of my screen to lead me to my bed. Shutting my bedroom door behind me I trot over to my bed. However something in my peripheral view catches my eye.

Through the little dent in the Venetian blinds I see a light on in the house across the street from me. Slowly walking over to the window I peak out the small dent and look across the street.

All I can see is the silhouette of a skinny man with a shotgun in hand standing at the window. Almost like he’s staring out the window….

Suddenly he slides out of view and the light goes out, but I stay looking and I get an uneasy feeling. It’s like he’s still by the window…hiding in the shadows…watching….waiting….

I scared myself by doing this, so I backed away from the window and decided to lay down. Listening to my heart thump in my ears as I focused on controlling my breathing. My mind was racing because I was so nervous about this town and whether or not I made the right decision…..

I attempted to clear my mind and doze off to sleep. I knew I had a full day of adventures the following day especially since I needed to find a supermarket of some sort here!

The End…. For now

Alright guys I know I’ve been GONE, but it feels good to be back! I hope you enjoyed this part. Can’t wait to start working on part 2 shortly 🤭🖤 we’re at 2,009 followers! I love yall soooo much 🥺

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo imagines #Spotify

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

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Eddie doesn’t post much over Parents weekend. When he does post, it’s a picture to the Official Corroded Coffin twitter account of Wayne rocking a vintage CC sweatshirt (vintage as in Eddie made it for him before the band even existed).

Overly invested fans don’t have to fret though because whereas Eddie isn’t posting, the kids are.

Every year they fill out bingo cards with Very Specific Things that they think will happen over the course of the weekend and play to see who gets bingo first. This all plays out across their TikTok accounts because the rule is: if you don’t get a video, it didn’t happen (the rule was made after the cheating scandal of 2016).

The game is always centered around whoever is hosting so this round is Steddie-centric. So, no one makes it obvious that Steve’s mom clearly didn’t show up, but if you’re invested enough in his mama drama than you’d pick up on everybody’s effort to keep him engaged enough that he doesn’t really have to think about it.

(1) The first to get a piece on the board are El, Mike, and Lucas. They manage to catch on video Claudia Henderson fully lifting Steve off his feet when she hugs him. You get three different angles of Dustin next to them with the most ‘are you shitting me?’ look on his face because she hugged Steve first. This is a staple of these events. It happens every time. Everybody had it on their bingo cards but the others didn’t get it on camera.

(2) Will has ‘Karen says something that would’ve gotten Steve’s neighbor burned at the stake’ on his card. He posts a TikTok of Karen referring to Steve and Eddie’s salt and pepper shakers as ‘kitschy.’ Steve smiles and says, “I know! Eddie picked them out.”

(3) ‘Eddie stands on a table’ was banned from being on the card because it has happened at every single event ever. ‘Eddie falling off a table and being caught by Steve’ however? Very specific. Weird it happened. Lucas gets points, but also a little side eye.

(4)It’s not going to win Erica any points, but she posts a video of her mom talking to Robin about finding her a good man. Now, don’t get her wrong. Sue Sinclair’s LGBT+ ally-ship is only rivaled by Joyce Byers, but she never remembers that Robin is a lesbian and Robin is always too awkward to correct her. It’s like watching two robots have a conversation because Sue mentions that Dustin is single and Robin is just like, “And…short?”

Eddie is not in the video but you can hear his wheezy laugh next to her. Erica’s just like, “Would you use your inhaler or die somewhere else?”

(5)Dustin posts a video of Steve standing by the window, clearly lost in thought as he stares out at the road. You can see Eddie sneaking up from a distance but instead of scaring Steve, he takes him by the hand and spins him around so they’re facing one another. Dustin isn’t close enough to hear what they’re saying but you can hear him mutter ‘gross’ when Eddie presses Steve up against the window to kiss him.

Steve’s the one to pull Eddie towards the stairs going to the studio, but they don’t actually make it down them because Hopper pulls Steve away to talk to him. There’s an argument between the party in the comments of the video of if this counts as ‘Steve and Eddie sneak off to make out like teenagers in the studio’ because they don’t actually succeed in sneaking away.

(6) Every single person playing gets a video of Hopper looking at Eddie and asking if he’s on drugs. Eddie says, “I don’t doOoOo drugs, Dad. It’s just marijuana.”

Dustin gets an extra point for catching Steve’s eye roll. Eddie has repeated that phrase at least a hundred times since Dustin told him about the Russian elevator.

(7) Max and Dustin both score a point with ‘Steve and El pull a “prank” on Eddie’ and it’s just Steve very confidently claiming that he can roll a nat 20 easy-peasy just by rolling the dice in a special way. Eddie obviously calls bullshit and then Steve rolls a 20 three times in a row.

After the fourth time, Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve and then spins around until he spots El on the other side of the room and points at her like “YOU!!!” No one watching understands this video. There are fights in the comments about what the hell is even happening here.

(8) Max is the only one with ‘Eddie says ACAB’ on her card. She posts a video of her handwritten card and then pans the camera up to Eddie. They’re all sitting around a bonfire later in the evening. Steve’s practically in Eddie’s lap as Eddie says, “-exactly what I mean, ACAB! All cops are bastards!”

Steve: Not Hopper

Eddie: Especially Hopper! Are you kidding me? Do you know how much weed he stole from me?

(9) Mike catches Steve and Eddie sharing a cigarette on the front porch later that night. It’s only after someone edits the video to remove the sound of the wind that you can kinda hear Steve say ‘It’s just that this is kinda it, right? I opened the door and she slammed it in my face.’

Most of the conversation is inaudible, but Joyce catching them and taking the cigarette from them is not. Neither is her shooing them back inside and finishing the cigarette herself.

(10) The party members all end up staying the night and everybody sleeps in the living room since Hopper and Joyce have Steve and Eddie’s bedroom and Wayne has the guest room. Steve and Eddie sleep on the couch because Eddie’s back can’t handle the floor. Max and Lucas get an air mattress, and Dustin claims the other side of the couch with El since they’re the only single people there. Everybody else is on the floor

Max wins bingo with a one-two punch the following morning with Mike complaining that Steve stepped on him with his big ass sleepwalking feet and Dustin posting a picture to his Instagram of him, Claudia, and Steve with the caption “best moms a guy could have.”

#Eddie kinda waking up in the middle of the night enough to register that Steve’s not laying on top of him anymore but hears Hopper say ‘not #tonight kid’ and falls back asleep because he trusts that Hopper has it handled #meanwhile Mike is also awake because Steve stepped directly on his hand #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson #the party

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late-to-the-party-81 · 4 months

Text

The King's Last Concubine

AN: Welcome, welcome to the short one-shot that spiralled a little out of control. I’m sure none of you will complain. If you like cheesy historical romance and Bucky then you’ve come to the right place. In all honesty I could have made this story much, much longer, but unfortunately I don’t have the time, so it’s wrapped up a little fast and without as many misunderstandings as the usual Harlequin/Mills and Boon normally contains. I hope you like it anyway.

Beta’d by the lovely @seriouslydex - thank you for your assistance in wrangling this into coherence.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Bingo Fills - @buckybarnesbingo Square U1 - Kink: Concubine

Master list | BBB Master list

Summary: When Bucky takes over the throne after his Father’s death, he has better things to deal with than the group of concubines he’s inherited. He thinks the tradition is abhorrent and vows he wants no part of it. When he meets the newest member of the harem he finds his moral stance tested. How can he want the woman who was bought to please his father?

Relationship: King James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x Female Concubine Reader

Chapter word count: 10.2k

CW: Historical AU, Flowery historical language, Angst, Servitude, Lust, Male masturbation, Fluff, Miscommunication, Self-loathing, Jealousy, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Attempted Sexual Assault, Explicit Sexual Content, Declaration of feelings.

A quiet tension filled the air as you wandered your way around the gardens and corridors of the place you’d called home for the last six months. That’s when you’d been purchased - a gift for the elderly and ailing king, meant to boost his spirits and reignite his youthful zeal. However, all the youth and beauty in the world could not turn back the sands of time.

For the last few weeks the king had been getting weaker, not leaving his private rooms or entertaining any guests apart from his long faithful Queen, his heir, Prince James and his daughter, Princess Rebecca. It was a waiting game now, for the Royal Family, the country, and for you and the other members of the Harem.

Entering the solar, where all of you could spend your days in conversation, needlework, painting and reading, you could see Merith, the King’s favourite in an agitated conversation with Katya, the next concubine down in the pecking order. They had the most to lose when the inevitable happened, because it would be very unlikely that the Prince would wish to keep them around. Not only were they older than him, they had both also borne the King numerous children - it would be very strange for a new King to keep the mothers of his half siblings as concubines for himself. At best, the two women might hope to be housed somewhere pleasant in their retirement, maybe with a semi-wealthy husband. At worst they could be turfed out of the palace along with any of their children that the King hadn’t yet made provisions for.

As for your fate, that was also completely unknown. However, due to your age and the fact that you had only been here a short time, with very few interactions with the King, there was a chance that the Prince would want to keep you. You’d never seen him in the flesh, but you knew he was handsome from the glimpses you’d had of his portrait when you’d been led to and from the King’s chambers on those few occasions he had requested your company. However, despite what you had been purchased for, you had never actually lain with the King. He had tried and, as it was in your best interest, so had you, but the King was old and tired.

Instead you’d provided him with company as best you could, rubbing his back, stroking his hair and reading him stories until he fell asleep and you could call the guards to escort you back to the Little Palace.

Of course, no-one knew what had occurred within the privacy of the King’s chambers, and if other concubines had had similar experiences they didn’t talk of it openly - it wouldn’t do to discuss the failing manhood of the person who held your life in their hands. However, what this meant was that you were still untouched by a man, with no experience other than what you had gifted yourself.

With a sigh, you crossed to the far side of the room, taking your place amongst the other younger and newer members of your unconventional community, picking up the sampler you’d been working on. There was no music being played and all conversations were kept to a minimum and spoken in whispers, out of a combination of respect and anxiety. The limbo dragged on.

Suddenly, the doors to the solar crashed open, and the King’s Equerry walked in, flanked by several guards.

“The King has died,” he announced. “Long live the King.”

The ladies fell into disarray.

“I really have to deal with that now?” Bucky asked of Coulson, his father’s, and now his, Equerry.

“I’m afraid so, your Majesty. It’s been two weeks since the late king passed away and decisions need to be made about those whose services you do not wish to retain. There may be some obvious candidates, but with others you may not know how you feel until you meet them.”

Bucky, now King James, sighed. It hadn’t come as a surprise when his father, King George, had passed away. His various ailments had worsened over the last few months and Bucky had actually felt relief for him at the end. The funeral had been last week and since then he’d been stuck in back to back meetings with the men who were now officially his advisors, sorting out matters of state. Admittedly, the fate of those who resided in the Little Palace hadn’t really occurred to him as important. It was an archaic tradition as far as he was concerned. Servants were one thing, but owning women just so you have a choice about who to fuck without any repercussions, just struck him as something that belonged firmly in the past. He still couldn’t get his head around how his mother had never once complained or commented about the practice - had never flinched when another Royal bastard was presented to the court so his father could make provision for them as he saw fit.

There was no question that any of the women who had provided his father with children - he wasn’t going to call them siblings - would have to be looked after in some way. He wasn’t a monster. The problem would be the others. There were about twenty or so of them, his father collecting them like fine artwork over his years on the throne and a few - and this thought turned Bucky’s stomach a little - were as young as his sister Rebecca. He didn’t feel as though he could just turn them out, however he didn’t want to keep them either. Without some kind of royal approval the women could be ostracised from normal society if their past were to become known, but could he really justify supporting all of them from the Royal purse for the rest of their days? Although, undoubtedly, there would be some noblemen more than happy to have his father’s cast offs as wives, especially as there had been no lack of suitors for their daughters. Those that had offered for them had obviously been hoping it would grant them a modicum more influence at court. Little did they know that wouldn’t be the case with him.

It also didn’t help that while Coulson could understand wanting to remove certain members of the Little Palance, he didn’t understand why the new King didn’t want to ‘get to know’ the rest of them. According to the Equerry, they were all very beautiful, demure, and accomplished, any one of them a suitable companion for lonely evenings. Apparently telling the dour man that if he was that taken with them he should feel free to fornicate with one himself, was not the done thing, but Bucky thought the look on Coulson’s face had been worth it. He’d then tried arguing that the ladies of the Little Palace deserved better than what they currently had, but his personal advisor had brushed the comment aside.

“These women want for nothing, Your Majesty. They sleep in the finest sheets, wear the finest fabrics, and eat the finest foods. Some would say they have a charmed life and what they gave up for it is very little in comparison to what they gain.”

“Fine,” he said with a defeated sigh. “I will at least deal with Merith, Katya and the other few that my dearly departed father put babies into, and maybe speak to the others. Let’s get this over and done with.”

Coulson smiled, obviously thinking that he’d won this round, and Bucky decided not to disabuse him. You have to pick your battles, as his mother was fond of telling him.

This time when the Equerry appeared, a fortnight after the death of King George, he sent nearly all of you out to the gardens, only keeping Merith, Katya and a few other of the ladies inside. It was clear that the women who were mothers to the late King’s bastards were about to find out their fate.

You walked slowly between the roses with your friend, Lila, the concubine who’d been obtained just a few months before you, swapping inconsequential small talk, neither wanting to verbalise what was actually on your minds - to say it out loud would be to court disaster. When the Royal Guards suddenly came outside you all stopped what you were doing, wondering if Master Coulson was going to deliver news to you all as well, but when a different, unexpected man appeared, you all lowered your gazes and dropped into deep curtsies. The King - the new King - was here.

Anxiety rode through you, and all you could hear was the pounding of your heart. You were vaguely aware, from your peripheral vision, that Master Coulson was introducing the King to each member of his harem. You caught snatches of conversation, when the King asked each woman in turn their name and how long they had lived here. When they got to Lila next to you, you heard your friend giggle when the King asked her the same questions and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You liked her, but she was always a little silly. Maybe she thought to flirt her way into the King’s affections?

When the two sets of feet stopped in front of you, you waited for Coulson’s say so before coming out of your curtsey and raising your head.

“And here, Your Majesty, is our newest young lady. You may greet the King, my dear.”

You stood, glad to get out of the deeply uncomfortable pose, and prepared to finally see him in the flesh for the first time.

“Your Highness,” you said, your voice a little more breathy than anticipated, but that was because it had been knocked from your lungs at the vision that greeted you.

King James was tall and broad in the shoulders. It was clear that the painting you had seen had been created when he was still a young man, only just into his adulthood. The man who stood before you now was no stripling. He was fully grown and oozed confidence and authority. His eyes, a cross between pale blue and grey, which had not been adequately portrayed by the Royal artist. His cheekbones were high and pronounced, and his jaw exquisitely chiselled, even if it was partially obscured by his facial hair. The hair on his head was short at the sides, but fluffy and slightly untamed on top, just tempting you to run your fingers through it. Now you knew why Lila had giggled.

He took your hand in his, and you marvelled at how large and strong it looked in comparison to your own. You could clearly see the resemblance to his father, but this was a man in the prime of his life and the thought that he would have none of the problems in the bedroom that had beset the late King flashed across your mind, unbidden.

When he asked your name in his deep but clear voice, you had to swallow before you answered so you didn’t stutter like a schoolgirl.

“Master Coulson said you were new. How long have you lived here?”

“Just over six months, Your Majesty.”

“And you like living in the Little Palace?”

You hesitated for a moment, working out the best way to answer. The other’s hadn’t been asked this question. “It’s very pleasant. Thank you for asking Your Majesty.”

His lips, full and pink, twitched, picking up on the diplomacy of your answer. “Only pleasant? Oh dear. Well maybe we can improve upon that in the near future.”

He skillfully removed his hand from yours and turned back to his Equerry, and you returned your gaze to the floor. As he walked away you realised your heart was still beating fast within your chest. However, it was no longer anxiety that made it do so, but rather the newly unfurled bloom of desire.

As soon as Bucky returned to the Palace proper, he dismissed Coulson and headed directly for his private chambers. His time in the Little Palace had mostly gone as well as expected, Meredith and her cohorts fawning over him dramatically in thanks for his generosity and then meeting what seemed like a legion of beautiful, yet dull as dishwater, young women, who his father had acquired to make himself feel young. What he hadn’t been expecting though was that last young lady - he didn’t even want to think about the word concubine and all of the linked meanings it held. He’d never seen someone so beautiful, and it had been clear from the short exchange of pleasantries that you had intelligence and humour to match.

He felt the rolling heat of lust raise its head and desperately tried to push it aside. As unique in his experience as you may be, he shouldn’t - couldn’t - think about you in this way. Not when he knew you’d spent time with his father. It was more than he could bear. But he couldn’t get the image of you from his mind. The curves of your body that deserved to be traced and explored with reverence. Your large, expressive eyes that tempted him to drown in their depths. Your lips that called him to kiss you over and over until you couldn’t speak or even breathe due to how much you wanted him.

Entering his room he shut the door harshly, but he didn’t care. He was unbearably hard within his trousers, and while not a new sensation by any means, it wasn’t one he’d felt in some time. As the Crown Prince he’d had to be circumspect in his affairs,but there was no-one he’d been actively courting. Now he was King the pressure would be on for him to find a suitable wife and start producing heirs. However, he didn’t intend to be like his father. Once he was married he would be faithful and treat his wife with respect. The devil on his shoulder reminded him that he wasn’t married yet and was free to do what he desired, but he tried to push it aside.

Bucky threw himself down on his bed but every time he closed his eyes you were there, hovering behind his eyelids. He palmed himself over his trousers, trying to get some relief from his state of arousal, but it was no good. Almost unconsciously he undid the fastenings, letting out a small sigh as the pressure was lessened, but then it was just too easy to take himself in hand. A few small strokes, just to take the edge off, became harder and longer, and the vision of you behind his closed eyes smiled at him coyly, tempting him to ruin her.

He imagined kissing you and touching you. Tracing every peak and valley with his lips and tongue. He imagined you doing the same to him, taking him in your mouth, lips stretched wide and tears in your perfect eyes. He imagined driving into you, again and again, while you gripped his shoulders and tangled your legs around his waist. Marking you - claiming you - as you called out his name over and over and trembled around him.

Bucky came with a cry, his spend spilling over his hand and stomach, and leaving him with an aching, hollow feeling of disgust with himself. He needed to release you and the rest of the ladies of the Little Palace and there-by banish you from his thoughts.

The next day he put his plan into action. He set Coulson the task of going through the remaining residents, from oldest serving to newest and finding them a new situation. Respectable marriages were the first preference - the Crown could provide a dowry - but failing that independence and a stipend until they became financially solvent on their own. If this plan had the effect that you would be the last to leave, that was just an unfortunate by-product of the most logical way of sorting the whole thing out, wasn’t it?

The edict by the King that the Little Palace was being disbanded was met at first with some trepidation. The women were all of a flutter, wondering what it would mean for them, but when Marie, the most senior of the concubines now that Merith and the others who had children had retired, was informed that, should she approve him, a husband had been found for her, any anxiety morphed into jubilation. Over the coming weeks, the number of you dwindled and you couldn’t help but feel a little lost amongst all the celebration. You were a strange sisterhood, that was certain, and you hadn’t gotten along with everyone, but you wished them well with a smile, and mulled over your sense of unease in private.

You weren’t sure what it was that was making you worried. It wasn’t as though you’d be forced into anything you didn’t want. Letitia had rejected three potential husbands before settling on a fourth, much to Master Coulson’s despair, and Tiffany had outright declared she wanted no husband at all, her and Dana wishing to set up house together and start a school. This came as no surprise to any of you.

It also wasn’t because you were so entrenched in this life that the thought of anything else was scary - you’d had more life outside these walls than in it - however you had found a camaraderie here, a sense of belonging, as strange as that may seem, that you hadn’t had before. And despite the fact that the idea of being intimate with the old King had been stomach churning, once he realised each time that it wasn’t going to happen, you’d found you’d enjoyed providing him comfort and some sort of friendship. Maybe being here had spoiled you? You’d admit it wasn’t a hardship to live somewhere where all your meals and clothes were provided and all you had to do was entertain yourself unless your services were required, although you did wish for more sometimes - a cage was still a cage, no matter how gilded and glittered.

Maybe having a husband wouldn’t be so bad. Hopefully he’d let you have some freedom - have some hobby or interest to keep you occupied, other than keeping house and popping out babies. You couldn’t help but be nervous though, especially as the numbers of you lessened until it was just you and Lila left.

Each time one of the ladies was preparing to leave, the King would come and thank her for her service. How any of you managed to keep a straight face when he said that was beyond you, but it did give you the chance to watch him unobserved. He really was handsome, and seemed so kind and earnest in his thanks. A true King and diplomat. But that wasn’t all he was. Every so often he would catch your eye and you would feel… something. And you couldn’t explain what it was, other than that you felt like a moth captivated by a flame, longing to get nearer and nearer, even if it would mean your doom. It wasn’t just physical, either - although you couldn’t deny that you’d had thoughts about that. You wanted to get to know him. The real him. His hopes and dreams. What motivated him.

You got your chance when you were sitting in the solar, enjoying the sun that streamed through the windows as you read your book. Lila was outside in the garden, taking a walk with her potential fiancee, a man named Lang who was apparently some minor aristocracy. Guards trailed them at a discrete distance, but you didn’t think there was anything to worry about. From the glimpses you’d caught of them, Master Lang appeared to be a convivial and respectful fellow. He walked with his hands behind his back, not trying to touch or grab at your friend, but he leant in close to talk intimately. He also appeared to be letting Lila hold an equal part of the conversation and you watched as she giggled behind her hand at a number of points in response to what you guessed were jokes.

“They appear to be getting on well.”

A voice from behind you, made you jump and turn in your chair. At the realisation that King James was standing there, you leapt up and then immediately leant forward into a deep curtsey.

“Your Majesty.”

How had you not noticed him enter? Why was he here?

“Please stand. There’s only the two of us here. I wanted to see for myself how Master Lang was comporting himself and this seemed like the best place to watch unobserved.”

He walked closer to the window and you continued to stand, your hands clasping each other, as you watched him from under your lowered lashes. Despite the number of times you’d seen him recently you were no less dazed by his beauty than you had been the first time. You allowed your gaze to travel over his body, admiring the way his clothes were cut to show off his defined figure. Silver threads were woven through the black fabric of his coat and they shimmered in the sunlight. You itched to smooth the cloth over the broadness of his shoulders.

As if sensing you watching him, the King turned back to you.

“Please don’t let me disturb you from whatever you were doing. Pretend that I’m not here.”

Your lips twitched. “That would be difficult, Your Majesty. You do stand out.” You gestured to the walls of the solar, a pale pink colour, and then at his attire. He looked down at himself and you were taken aback by the flush that made its way to his cheeks.

“Aah, yes. I see what you mean.” He moved away from the window then, and toward the chair opposite the one you’d been occupying when he’d surprised you. “Maybe then we could sit and talk for a while? What have you been doing with your days these last weeks?”

You gave him a small nod and took your seat. “Very little, Your Majesty, other than helping the others pack up their belongings as they leave. Some reading, some needlework. I have been practising my languages too. What have you been doing? Important affairs of state I would imagine.”

“It is not nearly as glamorous as people think. Lots of meetings that seem to stretch on forever, but that is nothing to the never-ending paperwork. I swear everyone in the country will have my signature soon. Lots of time to relax and do what you will, seems wonderful to me. I admit to being a little envious.” He smiled as he spoke, his face lighting up in boyish amusement.

“I assure you,” you stated, “that after a while even relaxing becomes as dull as any paperwork.”

The King chuckled at that. “Does it now? I’ll have to take your word for it. Now, tell me, what languages do you speak?”

“French and Spanish. A little Portuguese. And I’m trying to improve my Greek.” You lifted up your book to show him the writing on the front. He smiled at you and your heart beat faster.

“Impressive, my lady. My Greek is somewhat rusty, although my Russian is still good. Come, read for me and we shall see if I can follow you.”

Feeling shy, you lifted your book and began, haltingly at first, to read out loud, your tongue trying to wrap around the unfamiliar syllables. It had been a while since you had spoken out loud, normally preferring just to read, but as you became more confident the words flowed easier and you managed to glance up at him now and again.

The King was sitting, relaxed in his chair, legs outstretched with his ankles crossed. His eyes were closed as he rested his head on the chair back, arms settled on his chest with his fingers steepled. For a moment you could almost pretend this was a domestic scene of a wife reading to her husband after a long day. However, you were not his wife and he was not destined to be your husband. That would be someone else.

When you reached the end of your chapter, you gently closed your book, placing it on the side table, and the King opened his eyes and sat up again.

“You have a wonderful reading voice and you navigated the words very well - better than I’d have done, I’m sure. I’ve always thought learning languages a worthwhile endeavour and it is my deepest regret that I do not know more. I’ll take note to ensure that my Equerry looks to place you in a situation where your skills will be appreciated. I have a feeling,” he said with a glance back towards the window where his friend was still busy gently wooing yours, “that you will soon be the only one here.

You felt heat rushing to your cheeks at the compliment. “That would be greatly appreciated, Your Majesty. I know that not all men wish for an intelligent wife, but it would be nice to not have to appear vapid just to gain favour with my spouse.”

King James snorted. “I’ll admit that I do not understand those who only wish for a doll for a wife. If you’re going to spend the rest of your days together, would it not be better to have someone to converse with. Someone to challenge you mentally. It would be rather dull otherwise.”

“I suppose,” you ventured, “that those men are probably the type to find other ways - other people - to keep them occupied.” A small smile crept across his lips at your statement.

“And I suppose you are correct, my lady. But if that is the case then those men have chosen poorly. I cannot imagine marrying someone, only to then spend all my free time avoiding them. Somewhat defeats the point of it all, in my opinion.”

“Well, I had guessed some of that about you, Your Majesty. What with you getting rid of this age-old tradition.” You gestured once again to the room around you but when you turned back to him, it was to see that the King’s eyes had narrowed slightly, studying you.

“And how do you feel about that?”

You sensed his words were a test and you licked your lips nervously before you answered.

“I have no real opinion, Sire. I live to serve and am happy to do what my King commands of me.”

There was a strange look on his face. He was no longer smiling and while he didn’t appear angry with you, his demeanor was now far more chilly than it had been a moment ago.

“And were you happy to carry out the commands of my late father?”

You hesitated before answering. “His Royal Highness was most kind to me. I was happy to serve him.”

You barely heard him mutter “I bet you were” under his breath before he suddenly stood, and you scrambled to your feet after him.

“This has been an illuminating chat, my lady, and I thank you for your company. Soon you will be free of this place and can put this part of your life behind you.”

He nodded his head and once again you dropped into a deep curtsey, your eyes locked to the floor. You stayed that way as his footsteps retreated across the marble floor and you wondered what it was you had said that had turned him so cold.

Once again, Bucky found himself stalking into the sanctuary of his private chambers. Damn you, damn his father, and damn this ridiculous fascination of his. Whilst he’d tried to tell himself that the only reason he went to the Little Palace was to get a feeling for whether his friend was getting along with his potential betrothed, he also couldn’t deny the fact that he’d known you would be there as well, all alone.

He’d been enjoying your conversation until he’d been reminded why you were even there in the first place and sabotaged himself by bringing up his father. Then you’d all but admitted that you’d enjoyed doing what you did. Bucky felt sick at the thought.

Images of you tortured him day and night, and spending time with you today had obviously been ill-advised because now he had more memories to draw on. The way you spoke so passionately and knowledgeably about the ways of the world. The way that you smiled and joked when you were relaxed.

Bucky’s fingers longed to pick up a charcoal and try to capture the way the sunlight had slid over the planes of your face, giving you an ethereal, other-worldly look, like some fae creature sent to enrapture him. Instead he tugged on the bell-pull, asking the page who appeared to go and fetch Coulson. He then paced up and down the room, chewing on his thumb nail for the few minutes it took the Equerry to appear.

“How can I serve you, Your Majesty?” Coulson asked with a low bow.

“I want the matters with Lang organised as soon as possible and the remaining occupant of the Little Palace resituated with all speed. It’s high-time this issue was finished, once and for all.

It had been a week since Lila left. A week in which you’d spent nearly every waking moment alone, other than when the servants were helping you dress and bringing you food. Although you mustn’t forget the omni-present guards stationed outside various doors. Which meant it was two weeks since the conversation with the King that had left you feeling more confused than ever.

Lila had returned from her sojourn around the garden gushing about Master Lang and his attributes. About how handsome and kind and funny he was, and how certain she was that they would suit. You plastered a smile to your face and said all the right things, but you couldn’t seem to concentrate on your friend’s happiness, your thoughts consumed by the memory of how the King’s face had looked at the end of your exchange.

He’d been so happy and relaxed, then suddenly so cold and closed. It was obviously no secret that he didn’t like the fact that his father had had concubines, but it had happened and to deny why you were living there would be foolish. Which is why you’d answered so diplomatically - he didn’t need to know what did or didn’t happen in the privacy of the late King’s chambers, and he probably didn’t want to know. What son would want those details? But he had asked a question and you’d answered the best way you knew how.

It hurt because you’d actually been enjoying yourself, and thought that maybe he’d been enjoying himself as well. There’d been a strange warmth inside you as the pair of you had talked and teased and joked, and over the last few days you found yourself wishing you could feel it again.

However, now you had something else to occupy your mind. Almost as soon as Lila had left to get married - and you were sad you couldn’t be with her on her big day - Master Coulson had come to tell you that arrangements were being made at pace for your own future. It was only mildly surprising then, when he’d come to you this morning to tell you that a potential husband had been found and you should prepare yourself to have dinner this evening. He passed you over some papers, giving you details of the man you were to meet.

Apparently he was a Baron, a widower, and a few years older than King James. His seat was on the other side of the country and apparently quite large, with the main house boasting stables, a library, and a formal rose garden. As you read through the information you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. It all looked good on paper, but you needed to be sure. You didn’t want to swap one cage for another - you had to at least like Baron Zemo, and him you. It seemed as though he spoke numerous languages, so at least you had one thing in common with him. Hopefully all would go well, and you could consign this place and thoughts of the King to the past.

A few hours later and you were putting the finishing touches to your toilette. You dabbed some rosewater behind your ears and smoothed your hands down the front of your gown. It was one of your favourites and you’d worn it every time you’d been to visit the late King. He’d always complimented it, saying that the colour of the silk brought out your eyes. You hoped the Baron would like it as well. With a gentle knock on the door, one of the servants let you know that your guest had arrived and was waiting for you in the solar. You took a deep breath and walked down the hall.

As you entered, you saw a man, dressed in deep purple, looking out of the window, with his back to you.

“Baron Zemo, you are most welcome,” you said as you dropped into a curtsey. You heard him turn and then a be-ringed hand appeared in front of your eyes, offering to help you back to your feet.

“Thank you for having me here, my lady,” he replied as you stood. “I have been intrigued to meet you ever since the King wrote to me about your situation.”

You took in his features as he smiled gently at you. He had warm hazel eyes, straight, mid-brown hair that lay across his brow, and was clean shaven. He was slightly taller than you, but not by much and you pushed away the rogue thought about how King James virtually towered over you.

“Shall we sit and dine, and hopefully get to know one another better, sir?” you suggested.

“You’ve read my mind, my dear. There is nothing like good food, good wine, and good conversation, is there?” The Baron walked you over to the small dining table that had been set up and assisted you into your seat, and you felt like a grand lady.

The next two hours passed by amenably. The Baron was eloquent and charming, and when he found out that you spoke other languages he insisted on conversing with you in them, gently correcting your pronunciation and helping you when a particular word or phrase was outside your knowledge. At the end of the meal you were full, warm and a little tipsy from the wine - it wasn’t in your nature to imbibe often.

“Maybe,” Zemo suggested, “we should take a turn about the gardens? A walk in the cool night air would probably help aid digestion. What do you think, my lady?”

“I think that would be delightful.” You allowed him to help you with your chair once more and when you stumbled he linked your arm into his and walked you outside, away from the guards and servants who’d been present in the solar with you.

The garden was illuminated with lanterns in addition to the lights from the solar, and the pair of you walked companionably along the pathways. So far he’d done nothing to worry you, and hadn’t been at all standoffish. You would have to give serious thought into accepting his suit, especially as you were unlikely to receive better. The problem with being the last to be situated was that it also meant that your options for a suitable marriage were narrower.

“You’re awfully quiet, my dear. What’s going through that beautiful head of yours?” You ducked your head at the compliment and couldn’t help but smile.

“In all honesty, my lord? I was thinking about how lovely this evening has been. I will admit to some trepidation, which I’m sure you can forgive me for. Things like this are all too new for me.”

“No forgiveness needed,” he said with a smile, one much wider than those he’d displayed earlier and you felt your heart pick up in your chest, although you couldn’t immediately say why. “It’s completely understandable. But can I say that you have vastly surpassed my expectations. The information given to me about you greatly downplayed your beauty and intelligence. And, if I may be so bold, I find myself captivated.”

You felt your cheeks warm, but you also felt a little uncomfortable, at his zealousness. Or maybe it was the wine? “That is kind of you to say, sir. However, I’m finding myself getting a little chilled. Maybe we should return inside?”

With a swiftness that startled you, the Baron took hold of your shoulders and steered you backwards until you came into contact with the wall. You gasped in shock at both the impact and his change in demeanour.

“Maybe I can find a way to warm you up?” He quipped before his lips came down onto yours, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and one hand falling to your leg, inching your skirts upwards. You tore your mouth from his and turned your head, but his lips just zeroed in on your throat instead, sucking and nipping.

“Sir! Get off me!” You tried to push him, but his bulk had you pinned. His questing hand breached the hem of your skirts and he started to grope at your thigh, and his lips trailed further down to the neckline of your dress. “I said get off!”

The Baron raised his head and stilled his hand, but didn’t move away. “Surely you must miss this? The touch of a man. And think how much better it will be with someone who is younger and knows how to please a woman.”

“I miss it less than you think,” you ground out between clenched teeth. “And I did not ask you for this. Let me go.”

He smiled predatorily and slid his hand up to cup your mound over your underwear. “Did you really think I would offer for you without seeing if you had all the necessary attributes I’m looking for. I need an heir, and intelligence and beauty can’t provide that. And let’s face it, it’s not as though you’re a missish virgin keeping herself pure for her wedding night.”

His hand started to tug at your underthings and you closed your eyes tight as fear started to take over. However, just as you felt the first touch of his fingers on your intimate flesh his weight was suddenly gone.

“I believe the lady said no, Baron Zemo.”

Your eyes shot open, and there was King James, standing between you and the Baron, who was now sprawled on the ground. The dim light of the lanterns partially lit his face and that, combined with his expression, made him look like an avenging angel. Then he turned towards you and his expression softened.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

Without the Baron’s hands on you, your skirts fell back to your ankles and you pushed yourself away from the wall to stand.

You nodded and gave a little cough to clear your throat. “I’m fine, Your Majesty.”

The Baron scrambled to his feet and brushed the dust and gravel from his coat.

“Just a little misunderstanding between my fianceé and myself, Your Majesty. No harm done,” he said, his voice smooth and oily.

You took a step forward, your body trembling with anger. “I don’t believe that I’ve accepted your suit, sir. And after that display of ungentlemanly conduct I am now fully disinclined to do so.”

The Baron’s eyes snapped to yours, narrowing and he let his facade fully drop away. “Be quiet, whore. Who else would have you? You’re used goods, even if the one who did the using was the former King. You should be grateful I’m even considering you.”

You shifted, intending to step forward again and slap him, but the King held out his hand stopping you.

“You are out of line, Baron. No matter her history, the lady is still just that. A lady. And how you treat her is tells me that, despite your title, you are no gentleman.” His voice was steady, but you could pick up the undercurrent of rage - could see it in the way he was holding himself and the tick in his jaw.

Baron Zemo let out a bark of laughter, apparently oblivious to the danger he was in. “My dear James, I cannot believe how much you are defending one of your fathers handmaidens. She was obtained by him for one purpose, but you think it’s unreasonable for me to see if she lives up to that purpose before I marry her.” He peered at the King, then his eyes widened as though he’d made a startling revelation. “Do I sense some jealousy raising its head here?” He laughed again. “I should have realised there was a reason you kept her until last. Of course - she’s your whore as…”

He didn’t get to finish his vile words, because King James’ arm snapped out and he punched the Baron right on the jaw, then watched impassively as the man crumpled back to the ground. Then, just as suddenly, he turned towards you fully and without a word scooped you up into his arms. You squeaked and threw your arms around his neck as he walked briskly back towards the solar. As he made his way inside, the guards stood to attention but didn’t turn to look at you, however, you still hid your face in his neck from embarrassment.

“There’s some filth in the garden to be sent packing.” The King’s voice rumbled in your ear as he spoke to the guards, and then he was turning with you in his arms and striding down the corridor that led to the private chambers.

“Which one?” he asked gruffly, and you uncurled from his chest slightly so you could point. He shouldered your door open and then kicked it shut before letting you down, your body sliding over his as he did so.

You looked up at him, eyes wide and heart racing, not even noticing that your hands still rested on the slope of his chest and that his hands were still on your waist.

“You’re sure you're alright?” he queried again, looking down at you with concern.

“Absolutely. You stopped him. You…” You started to shake then as you realised how close you’d come to real harm. Without a word, the king steered you over to the edge of your bed and you both sat down, your small hands held in his larger ones, one of his thumbs rubbing over the delicate skin near your knuckles.

“Just breathe, my lady. You’ve had a shock. I’m glad I was there…” he stopped mid-sentence and freed one of his hands to turn your head and bare your neck to him. You swore you heard him growl. “He marked you. I’m going to kill him.”

You took hold of his wrist and pulled it down so you could turn back to face him. “It’s nothing. Really. It will fade and in a few days it’ll be a memory. Then we can try again.”

He peered at you, confused.

“Try and find me a husband,” you clarified and then smiled in an effort to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

“No.” King James pulled himself away sharply and stood, his back to you.

Now you were the one who was confused. “What do you mean,’No’? ‘No’ to a few days or ‘No’ to a husband? I don’t understand.”

“Either. Both,” he snapped, still not turning around.

“Alright,” you replied. “We’ll find me somewhere to live, then. Discuss a suitable stipend amount like Master Coulson did with some of the others who refused a husband.”

“Not that, either.” He ground the words out and you felt your patience waning, frustration overtaking your confusion. You stood up and stepped closer.

“So no husband and no stipend. What are you suggesting? That I just leave?” You couldn’t keep the hysterical note from your voice.

He spun on his heel and moved into your personal space, just as the Baron had done only a few minutes ago. However you didn’t feel anxious or uncomfortable, and the warm feeling inside you was back, despite your anger at how contrary he was being.

“Not at all,” he said quietly, his eyes trained on you.

On your face.

On your lips.

“I thought you wanted me out of here. You don’t want any concubines, remember?” You arched your eyebrow, challenging him.

He leant forwards and your breath caught in your throat, his stormy eyes now all you could see.

“I still don’t,” he murmured and then pressed his lips to yours.

This kiss was entirely different to the Baron’s assault. It was soft and gentle. Coaxing, not claiming. The King’s hands came up to cup your face and you curled your own into the front of his jacket. The heat within you rose in intensity and you kissed him back, opening your mouth and letting him in. He moaned when you did, one hand sliding to your hair and the other to the small of your back, pulling you close to him. You could feel the evidence of his arousal, but it didn’t scare you. In fact it thrilled you. It was all the deepest thoughts you’d kept to yourself come to life, and they took you over.

Your nimble fingers worked the buttons of his jacket and as they came undone the King let go of you to shuck it off. That was followed quickly by his cravat and waistcoat, thrown without care across your room, and then he pulled his shirt free of his trousers and toed off his shoes. He took you back in his embrace then, kissing you with more passion and your hands found their way under his shirt, stroking across the hard planes of his chest. He nipped at your lower lip in retaliation and you gasped as the brief stinging shot to your core.

“Tell me you want this,” he breathed into your mouth.

“I do,” you whispered back. You’d never been as sure of anything as you were now - consequences be damned. They were a problem for tomorrow.

Part of Bucky couldn’t believe what he was doing, because he really shouldn’t be doing it. He was a King and should be the better person. But, oh, how he wanted to be selfish for once and slake this longing he had for you.

He hadn’t been able to stop himself from coming to see how you and the Baron were getting on, partially to assuage his guilt and partially to torture himself. When he’d found you both absent from the solar, one of the guards had told him you’d gone for a walk together. As he’d stepped outside and neither of you had been in the closer part of the garden a sense of unease had washed over him. Then he’d heard you shout and raced around a corner to see you pushing at the Baron as he held you against the wall, trying to violate you.

He’d barely been able to restrain himself when he saw that, only daring to separate you and check that you were alright. But then the Baron had started to spew his hurtful, cruel words and his resolve had crumbled. He’d had to make sure you were safe. He’d needed it like air.

Upon getting you inside, he’d told himself that he would just double check that you were alright and then leave, but then he’d seen the bruise on your neck and you’d tried to placate him with talk of trying to find a new suitor and he’d lost any sense of decorum.

There would be no other husband, no grand house and pension, because you were his. You were his oxygen - his sunlight. His joy and his misery and his desire all rolled into one. So he’d kissed you, almost no better than the Baron, but then you’d kissed him back. Clung to him. You’d made it plain that you wanted him too, first with your actions and then your words.

Mentally calling himself a fool, Bucky spun you around and tugged at the closure of your dress, the multitude of tiny buttons that held it together flying across the room. He didn’t care, though. He could buy you a new dress. A thousand new dresses. He eased the open neckline over your shoulders and pushed the multiple layers of silk down your frame. Taking your hand, he helped you step out of the froth of fabric and you kicked off your slippers at the same time with a giggle that shot through him like a bolt of lightning.

Bucky pulled you back to him with a groan and walked you towards the bed, laughing with you when you both tumbled onto it with a bounce. Your hands, so small and delicate, found his chest again, and he lent up and pulled his shirt over his head, watching you as your eyes darkened with desire as you took in what you saw. You traced your fingers over the definition of his abdominals and pectorals and Bucky shivered.

“I want you, Your Majesty.” Your voice was low and breathy, and fuck did he just want to bury himself in you. Feast on you.

“Bucky,” he rasped. “Call me Bucky. There is no King here tonight.”

You came back together, kissing and touching and through it you both messily and awkwardly helped each other remove the rest of the clothes that separated you. As soon as your breasts were bared to him, Bucky couldn’t hold back, latching onto your puckered nipples, one after the other, drawing squeaks and moans from you, more intoxicating than any sounds he’d imagined in his private imaginings.

His right hand skirted down your body, finding its way between your legs and you opened for him. He moaned around breast as he found your wetness and began to toy with you. Bucky teased your clit and stroked your folds, captivated by how more arousal spilled from you. When he slid a testing finger into you, you gripped his hair and arched into his hand, your soft mewl turning to a strangled gasp and he felt undeniably powerful, a small part of him, one he didn’t want to really acknowledge, feeling as though he was competing with the memory of his father. He was determined to erase it. After tonight there would only be him.

When Bucky added a second finger into your warm channel and circled his thumb on your clit, you whimpered his name. Not ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘Sire’, but ‘Bucky’ as he’d asked you. He lifted his head and rose back up your body, capturing your lips and swallowing your cries as he drove you higher and higher. Your hands now clutched his shoulders, your short, manicured nails digging into him, using him as an anchor, lest you float away into the ether. He felt your body quiver beneath him as you neared the precipice of your pleasure and then the next second you were tumbling over it, your body spasming around his fingers, your mouth drawing all the oxygen from his lungs into your own.

Bucky kissed you through it, slowing his hand before pulling it away slowly. He shifted on the bed, kneeling between your limp legs, and as you watched him with hooded, lust filled eyes, he brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted your essence. He groaned as he did so, promising himself that he would drink directly from your source soon, but he couldn’t hold back his desire to fully claim you any longer.

As his hand dropped to his cock, your eyes followed it, and you took your first real look at him. He couldn’t help but smile as your eyes widened and you tentatively raised your own hand towards his erection. He took hold of it and wrapped it around his length, marvelling at how your fingers didn’t meet. Your gaze flicked between his face and his cock, unsure which you wanted to watch. However, after a few minutes it was too torturous, and he repositioned himself to kiss you again and run his cock between your wet folds. Your hips rolled beneath him as you let out small whimpers of need and desire and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

Bucky reached between you, lined himself up and sank into your warmth.

The cry of ecstasy you let out caught him by surprise and he looked down into your eyes. The truth shone out of them as you pulled in breath after ragged breath, your body struggling to adjust to his size, despite what he’d done to you only minutes before. He couldn’t really process it, but an animalistic part of him howled in pleasure at the realisation that you’d been untouched and consumed any remaining restraint.

Bucky snapped his hips, watching in awe as your eyes rolled in your head and the breath was pushed from your lungs. It was an addictive sight and he thrust into you again and again, unable to stop, needing to see your reaction. You clutched his biceps as he braced himself, your head thrown back and he never wanted to see you any other way - debauched and ruined on his cock.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Can you touch yourself for me, sweetheart?”

You mumbled incoherently but did as he’d asked, your hand moving between you, and Bucky knew when you’d found your centre from the way you clenched around him. He groaned at the sensation and let it spur him on. He dipped his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts and when you let out a wail he knew he’d found the right spot.

“That’s it, beautiful. Come apart for me. Come on my cock.”

You screamed and spasmed around him and his rational brain knew he should pull out and spill himself over the sheets, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t not have this. He cried out, throwing back his own head, and surrendered to the inevitable.

It took you a while to come back to yourself, because what you’d just experience was so different from what you’d been told about. The King - Bucky - was cuddled up behind you, his arms holding you close and his nose pressed into your hair, dozing. You turned in his embrace and his long, dark eyelashes fluttered open.

“Hi,” you breathed cautiously, unsure of how you should be acting. However, when he softly smiled at you, you felt your heart leap inside your chest.

“Hello, yourself.” He dropped a gentle kiss to your lips and you smiled in return and relaxed. He was obviously content to stay in your private, intimate bubble for at least a short time more and you were more than happy to indulge him. You didn’t want to think about how you’d feel when this ended, it would hurt too much.

Pushing yourself up onto one elbow you looked down at him and idly traced invisible designs across his chest with your finger tip.

“So, Bucky, huh? Where does that come from?”

He chuckled at your teasing tone. “From my sister, Princess Rebecca. Or as I call her, Becca-Boo or Sprout. My second name is Buchanan, and when she was learning to talk she couldn’t say it. Whenever she said ‘Bucky’ it would make me laugh, so she kept doing it and then refused to call me anything else. Then my mother picked it up, because if she called me James, Becca would stamp her foot and tell her off. And I liked it. It helped me separate the two parts of myself - Bucky, the normal man with normal wants, desires and hobbies etcetera, and James, heir to the throne, with duties and responsibilities who has to keep himself apart from those around him.”

There was a melancholy tone to his words, and you couldn’t help but bend down and press a light kiss to his lips. “Well I like Bucky.”

He brought his hand up to the nape of your neck, returning the kiss, and you wished that reality could just stay firmly outside for the rest of time.

When Bucky broke the kiss, he looked up at you with searching eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked quietly and you immediately knew what he was talking about. You shrugged one shoulder.

“Does it matter? Would it have changed what just happened between us? Would you have thought differently of me?”

“No, it wouldn’t have changed what just happened, but I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t have treated you differently. I thought harshly of you, driven by jealousy. How could I allow myself to like you, desire you, when you had lain with my father? I was jealous of a ghost for having claimed you first, and I hated myself for feeling that way. That was why I acted coldly to you when we conversed in the solar. What you said. You made it sound as if you’d enjoyed being with him and ugly thoughts filled my head.” Bucky’s brow furrowed as he spoke and you itched to smooth out the lines that formed there.

“Well, it isn’t really the done thing to speak out loud about the King’s impotence,” you pointed out. “Especially with his own son. I was trying to answer truthfully, but without going into detail. And I suppose I did enjoy spending time with him. He may not have been the type of father you wished, or the husband your mother wanted, but he was still a man. We’d talk, mostly. I like to think that I gave him some comfort and companionship. I can’t say that I’m unhappy about the way things turned out.” You looked at him coyly from under your lashes and he laughed.

“You liked being claimed by me? You wanton wretch,” he teased.

“It was definitely different, and much better, than what I’d been led to believe.” He growled playfully, and in one deft move rose up and pushed you back to the mattress, caging you in with his arms. You brought your hand up and brushed the back of it over his cheek. “If I’m going to be a concubine, I’m glad that I’m yours.”

At your words, Bucky reared back, as if you’d slapped him and you immediately started to apologise. “I’m sorry, Sire. I shouldn’t have presumed…” Shame and guilt washed over you at how far you’d sunk into your daydream, and you fought your way out of the sheets. Rising from the bed, you found your shift in the heap of clothing on the floor and pulled it over your head. “I will leave you to your dressing and wait for instructions from Master Coulson later.” You bobbed a curtsey and turned toward the door, your hand reaching for the handle, eager to put space between you.

“Stop!” His command made you freeze mid step, your arm lowering back to your side. In a moment he was behind you, his hands firmly gripping your upper arms.

“You are not my concubine. I never wanted one, and I won’t start now.” He spun you, and when you didn’t raise your head, staring instead at a freckle near his collarbone, he tucked a finger under your chin and made you look at him. “You deserve more than that, my darling.” His tone softened. “You will be my wife. That is, if you will have me?”

You looked at him in shock. “What? How can I be your wife? You are the King and I am, well, just me.”

“And as the King, I can do what I want. And for anyone who gets pedantic about your previous status, there is precedent. Concubines have been turned into Queens before.”

You pulled yourself from his hold, raising your arms up in confusion. “You do not need to speak of marriage, just because you have bedded me and do not want a concubine.”

“This is not solely because we have lain together, sweet fool. I love you.”

His words made you stop and you wondered if you’d misheard, but he continued.

“I fear I have done since I first laid eyes on you. And I just hope that maybe you can learn to love me too. Bucky, that is. Not just James, your King.” He reached out imploringly toward you. You looked back at him and then at his hand, before accepting it as you stepped forward, a broad smile making its way across your face.

“Learn to love you? That implies that I don’t already. How could I not, even if you were being grumpy and contrary.”

He wrapped you up in his embrace and looked down at you, eyes full of mischief. “Contrary? Is that anyway to speak to your King?”

“It is how a Queen speaks to her husband,” you joked back.

“Is that so? Then I must make you my Queen as soon as possible.” He closed the remaining distance between you, kissing you with vigour before lifting you and returning you both to the bed.

“However, nothing can be done until tomorrow. Whatever shall we do until then?” he drawled with mock innocence.

“I have a few ideas, Your Majesty,” you replied, mimicking his tone.

He shook his head. “Bucky, remember?”

“Bucky,” you agreed.

The End

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @mrs-illyrian-baby, @wheezy-stucky, @km-ffluv

#Bucky x Reader #Historical AU #historical romance #Bucky Barnes x you #buckybarnesbingo2023 #Bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst #Bucky barnes smut

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sourpatchys · 4 months

Text

Title: Thorns’n Roses

Rating: NSFW❤️‍🔥 minors DNI

Warning: premature ejaculation

Time: after overhaul, before Deika City

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: The beating of two hearts can finally become one. The realization of feelings, and the fear of separation. •FEMALE READER•

The warehouse was cold, its broken down walls and caved in floors left much to be desired in the thought of comfort. Though, as being in the league has taught you– it could always be worse.

Even with the cracked windows, boarded up doorways and splinter infested surfaces, this was a far cry from the worst place you’d had to call home within these past few months. At the very least this place had a few broken down mattresses that had been left by fellow squatters over the years– a good change of pace from sleeping on leaves and concrete.

Though, through it all– you couldn’t think of a place you’d rather be. The dripping water and old creaks left you feeling calm, the cold air soothed your hot skin– this was the life you’d chosen, and it was a beautiful reality. Someday, maybe the world would allow you to be like the others, to perhaps build a life worth slowing down for, but that dream was far away– just beyond your reach.

The league mostly stayed separate, going alone or in pairs to the next location to help cease wandering eyes from staring too long. Fugitives couldn’t risk being recognized, as a whole it was safer to go alone, meeting up with Shigaraki once every few days to decide our next move.

As luck would have it, you were with Shigaraki this week. Kurogiri liked to say it was for the sake of the leader's protection– but you knew otherwise. The truth was, Tomura Shigaraki was the league's protection, a safety blanket for the unknown. He always had the answers, he always had a plan– and when he didn't we knew it simply wasn’t time to act. Truth be told, he was the reason you stayed.

Being a villain wasn't on your bingo card, it wasn’t something you ever thought you would have chosen for yourself– being on the run wasn’t something that was new for you though, and that's how he’d found you– crying in an alleyway after losing control, afraid of what you were capable of.

He made you realize there was no reason to be afraid– that fighting back was a part of life. Those exact words had never left his lips, in fact he rarely spoke to you at all, his mere presence and demeanor were enough to make you understand the lessons you were taught.

Shigaraki was never afraid to do what he wanted– needed to do. So you decided you wouldn’t be either.

He was sitting on an old shipping box, staring into space– his eyes weren’t focused, it seemed as if he was letting himself rest after weeks of fighting. Something in you wanted to believe that you had given him his relaxation– that you had somehow saved him from his anxieties just by being there.

Finally, he turned to you, his eyes harsh, yet somehow forgiving all the same. They were red like rubys, like two crystal clear seas of blood– or perhaps like a rose, covered in thorns, ready for its next victim.

It was as if you were possessed, like the words left your mouth without even processing through your own skull– “Your eyes are really pretty.”

He looked just as shocked as you felt, his brows raising and then falling, showing you more of his beautiful red.

“What?”

His voice was shaken, a tone in which you had never heard from him– it wasn’t anger, it wasn’t fury– he was confused, upset even. Maybe you needed to say it again? Surly he just hadn’t heard you right the first time.

“I said your eyes– they’re pretty.”

This didn't seem to cure his new demeanor. He was supposed to have all the answers– but at this moment, it was as if he’d never had a correct answer in his life. He didn't know what to say, where to look, or how to continue. Yet something in him yearned to keep this going, he wanted to hear you again, the sincerity in your voice had him crumbling in a way he never knew possible.

“Yours are too.”

He’d never given another person a compliment, he wasn’t sure if he had even done it right. If not for the slight flush on your face, he may never have gotten the answer. His body felt hot, his hands were sweating and he swore his heart was beating twice as fast. It was similar to anger in a way– though he didn't wish for this feeling to stop, he didn't crave the crash of emotions he got after killing, or the need to scratch. It was a strange sensation, and he was sure you were trying to kill him– but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

You were just the same, three seconds away from a heart attack. You were sure you'd heard him wrong, but the softness in his rose like eyes told you otherwise, and suddenly you were melting in the palm of his hands. It felt as though he had all five of his fingers wrapped against your throat, and you craved more of the delicious feeling. You were pudding, but you felt brave, braver than you ever had in your 20 years of life.

“They remind me of a newly blossomed rose after a storm, so beautiful and yet so dangerous you can’t help but want to pluck it for yourself.”

A thoughtful look crossed his face as he stared at you, as if he were digesting your words bit by bit, savoring the flavor on his tongue.

“Beautiful, huh?”

“Yes, I think so.”

It was then he stood, walking his way towards you before sitting down across from you on the cold damp floor. He seemed to be examining you, looking for something he couldn’t quite place.

“Are you trying to get under my skin? It wont work.” he lied– as far as he was concerned you were nestled right into the muscle.

You swallowed, this was as close as you'd ever had the pleasure of being to one another, you didn’t want to push him away.

“No Shigaraki, I'm just being honest.”

He glared at you, his eyes showing distrust, though a pale blush started to form across his neck. A part of you wondered if his ears got red when he was embarrassed– you desperately wanted to find out.

“So you honestly think I'm ‘beautiful’.”

The word was spit out of his mouth with such disgust, you almost didn't recognize it– as if it were completely foreign to your vocabulary. Though his utter repulsion for the word did not make your statement any less true, in fact it only made you want to drill it harder, to see him accept your thoughts on the matter no matter the cost.

“Yes–” you reached out your hand, touching your soft subtle flesh across his scarred rough skin, looking into his soul– “I think you're beautiful.”

Shigaraki didn’t know how to react, he didn't know how to do anything. It was as if he had lost complete connection to his body, only able to stare, basking in the warmth you've given him. His body is frigid, long since forgetting the feeling of a gentle touch– he thought he may become addicted to the feeling now that it was in his grasp once more.

Noticing his reluctance, you moved to sit on your knees– slowly, so as to not startle him further– you placed your other hand on the other side of his warming face. It felt as though you had the world in your hands, and you found yourself loving the feeling it gave you.

Was that what this was? Affection?

The thought of closing the gap between your bodies made you shiver with excitement, and then– and only then– could you handle the truth.

You were in love with Tomura Shigaraki.

The man in question was in confused bliss, he never knew the touch of another could feel so– innocent– so subtle. He wanted more, he wanted every part of you– anything you'd let him have, he decided he would take.

“Shigaraki?” you whispered, refusing to speak any louder, afraid of losing the bubble you had so carefully crafted together.

He hummed at you, his eyes tracing every corner of your face– making sure to confine it to his memories. This moment was one he refused to forget.

“Can I try something?”

As if he knew what your simple request was, he stared down to your lips– flicking his unfocused gaze between them and your eyes– silently giving you permission to continue, letting you take the lead.

As your soft lips grazed his own, he found that he never wanted to feel anything else. He couldn’t close his eyes, much too enthralled by the soft look on your face, a look of content in which he never assumed he would be on the other end of.

He realized that maybe– he didn’t hate everything. No– he could never hate you, nor the feelings you were giving him.

The kiss was short and sweet, only lasting a few seconds before you were pulling away, looking for his reaction, nervous about what you might find. You didn't have much time to look however, as soon he was wrapping his arm around your head, sure not to touch you with his deadly fingers, drawing you to his mouth once more.

This kiss was not soft, though it was enthralling just the same. Your mouths moved in sync, quickly finding a rhythm only the two of you would ever be able to share. It was filthy, sloppy, untamed– but it was perfect all the same.

Tomura’s rough lips slid against your own, you couldn’t think of any kiss you'd ever shared feeling as wonderful as this– you felt as though your world was finally spinning again, as though the last piece to your puzzle had been clicked into place.

You made him feel alive. Like nothing in this world could hurt him any longer.

Breaking the kiss was one of the hardest tasks either of you had ever faced up to that point. The need to stay connected, to feel the others skin across their own– it was a pull unlike any other. Shigaraki looked at you with a gaze you had never seen before, one of contentment. You had done it– you'd relaxed his entire being all on your own. You brought that side of him out– you and you alone.

The look of your face, glossed over eyes and puffy lips, stirred something in Shigaraki, he never wanted anyone to see you the way that he was seeing you, he wanted this for him and him alone.

The tension was thick, yet bubbly all the same, each of you wanted the same thing– each other. And yet the words had escaped both of your throats, unable to be spoken freely.

You leaned in, resting your head in the crook of his neck, your breath was still coming in waves, seemingly unable to recover. He let you, wrapping his arms around you in a protective stance. Even without the words being spoken, the fate was sealed– you belonged to Tomura Shigaraki.

Moments that felt like hours passed without a word, the dripping of the building and the harsh wind outside being the only noise keeping the two of you centered.

Shigarakis throat bobbed as he cleared his throat, the warmth under his skin reaching your cheek in record time.

“I think you are too.”

It took you a moment to understand his words– sitting up and looking at his flushed face, you couldn't help but allow a soft smile to spread across your face. He looked away from you, overcome with the need to hold you once more. It was overwhelming, all of this at once, he wasn't sure what he'd do if you looked at him with those same eyes every time he got to see you.

Suddenly it hit him– after this week, there was no telling where you'd be stationed. You couldn’t stay with him long term, the risk of being found was too great– fanning out and changing location was the only way to stay out of the light– to be hidden in the shadows in a world full of light.

He found his heart aching at the thought– he had only just realized his affections, he had only just felt your soft tender skin on his own, he couldn’t bear being away from you– he was selfish, it had gotten him into trouble many times– and yet now he had to think of your safety as well.

Surly you'd be safest with him, not alone, not with one of the other members– with him.

As the days began to pass, each more attentive than the last, he couldn’t help but continue to worry. He needed everything to be in place, he needed you to stay with him, to be with him always.

He began treasuring your mornings together, watching you open your sleep-ridden eyes, hearing you mumble nonsense while you were dreaming– the feel of your lips on his skin, the touch of your hands, the feeling of your warmth as you hugged him tight.

One day you had woken before him, and he had the pleasure of waking to the sound of your beautiful voice humming sweet nothings as you traced abstract patterns over his back.

The two of you had created something wonderful, a domestic piece of bliss in their otherwise gruesome line of work. You grounded him in a way he never thought was possible, you made him feel whole. While with you– he knew no hate– he knew not anger. All he knew was your warmth, your laugh, your smile.

Oh how he wanted to keep it forever, tucked away in his pocket to carry with him always.

It was as if you were a porcelain doll, and he was doing everything in his power to keep you from breaking. He had never known seeing another person happy to be alive could be so invigorating.

This morning was unlike the others, as it was possibly the last morning you'd get to spend together until a better arrangement could be made– the thought of you leaving his arms even for a moment made him sick to his stomach. He was hoping, with everything in him, that the power that Kurogiri had promised him would come soon, he needed to be the king, with you his queen.

He fell hard and he fell fast, as did you. The bond you shared was unlike any other– you needed one another– you craved one another.

He felt your body begin to twitch as you began to wake, your tender loving hands gripped onto his shirt, and your face scrunched pushing its way into his dark clothing– trying subconsciously to block the sun, annoyed by its rays.

He found it to be quite amusing.

“The sun is here to stay.” he found himself saying, enjoying the way you groaned in frustration towards his words.

“Kill it.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him– his own personal ball of sunshine being such a grumpy riser, it was nothing if not poetic.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, an action that had become more than natural by this point, he always had his grubby little hands on you one way or another.

You hummed softly at his attempts to wake you– your eyes opening softly, ready to greet the day albeit reluctantly. You weren't happy about leaving either, it had been on your mind since the moment you shared your first kiss together. The fear of leaving the man in which you held so dear. But perhaps the distance would make your connection grow stronger– perhaps the world wasn't ready for the two of you to forever join together quite just yet.

You could feel yourself frowning at the thought, clutching harder onto the fabric between your fingers.

Shigaraki didn't say anything, letting you feel whatever you needed too, though he didn't enjoy your frustrations, he couldn’t solve them– not yet– not without power.

He felt as your warm tired– angry– hand made its way under his worn down shirt, slinking its way up his torso. His breath hitched at the feeling, though he stayed still, letting you do as you pleased. What kind of king would he be if he told his queen no?

Your hand continued to make its way over his pale harsh skin, his muscles tightening under your soft skin, unused to the feeling, yet craving more– he wanted you, he wanted to eat you whole and leave nothing left– to claim your flesh as his own, so that no matter where you wound up, his touch would stay with you forever.

You wanted just the same.

“Tomura?”

His name fell from your lips like lace, he was sure he’d never heard such a beautiful sound. He gulped, afraid of breaking the trance you were in, wanting nothing more than to stay in the moment you had created.

“Yeah?”

“Can I do something?”

The vibrations that shook his core were nothing if not violent. Your voice was as sweet as velvet, your mock innocence made him want to beg, to plead for you to do whatever you wanted, so long as it involved him and no one else. You were beautiful, looking up into his rose colored eyes through your eyelashes, waiting patiently for his answer– for his permission.

Who was he to refuse you?

“Of course.”

That's all it took for your soft, gentle hand to become harsh and demanding, running its way up his torso as if it belonged to you. You sat up, taking no time at all to put both of your precious hands on his frame, sliding away at his overworn shirt, pushing it above his head.

His breathing had all but stopped, giving you utter control over what you were going to do to him next– after all, he had given you his explicit permission to do as you pleased– he wasn't the kind of man to go back on his word.

You traced patterns along his rib cage, sliding your thumbs against his scars, paying special attention to the old healed over bullet wounds from his first endeavor as a full fledged villain. He never paid much mind to his scars, he felt natural about them– they were simply the results of his labor, something that was to be expected if he were to fight for destruction. Though, with your gentle caresses, he found himself awed by them, wishing he had more to show, just for your eyes to see.

It was only when you dipped your head and licked a ling stripe up his stomach that he truly realized what your intentions were– it scared him, it enthralled him– he wanted more.

As your fingers made their way to the hem of his pantline, he propped his body up on his arms, not willing to look away from you for a single second as you popped open his button and rolled down his zipper.

His body was electric, zapping and zipping from his toes up to his head. He could feel himself growing erect, the thought alone of you wishing to touch him had him groaning. The sight before him was one he would never forget, your lovely eyes widening as you released his cock from its confines.

Before touching him, you had to ask a question that had been eating away at you– a question you hoped you already knew the answer to.

You looked up into his glossed over eyes, his mouth slightly agape as he took you in.

“Have you ever done this before Tomura?”

There it was again, the sound of his name falling from your perfect lips, it sent a shockwave down his core, his cock twitching in excitement for what was to come– but you had asked him a question– a question he needed to answer before you would continue your mission.

“No– you're the only one.”

It was true, as of today you had been his first everything, his first kiss, his first crush, love, want. You alone held this unstoppable power over his being. It didn't frighten him nearly as much as it should have.

A smile rose to your face, it was a true smile, a toothy grin that had his heart pounding. How? How in the midst of seducing him– did you manage to make his heart melt?

You went to continue, dropping your hand down to grasp his throbbing member in your hands, he hissed at the new sensation– he’d never expected just a small gesture to unwind him so fully. He knew, if you continued on with your plans he would be gone before long, unable to keep up with your alluring ways– completely undone by your soft warm hands.

“Wait!” he growled, placing his hand over your own, sure to lift his pinkie even as his cogs were unwinding. He wanted to become one with you, he wanted to claim you– to take the reins, to pleasure you thoroughly.

Surprised, you did as told– stopping completely in your tracks, ready to hear your orders.

“I– I won't be able to last like this, I want you. I want you in full.”

His tone was dangerous, like a hunter to its prey– it sent a shock of warmth down to your own heat, a sensation that's never happened with words alone.

He took you and flipped your positions, your body landing on the old squeaky mattress with a puff, immediately spreading your legs, unable to contain yourself after seeing the look in those rose red eyes.

Shigaraki climbed over you, his cock hanging between your bodies, glistening with precum already– unable to control itself at the sight of you submitting to him so easily. He needed you, he needed your wet head to surround him– that's the only way he could die happy– he was sure of it.

“Take them off.”

He tugged two of his fingers against your clothes, unwilling to risk the thought of destroying such beautiful garments that hugged your frame so wonderfully.

The edge and shake to his voice had you trembling in anticipation, ready to bend to his every whim. Slowly you began to pull off your clothing piece by piece, all the while he couldn't look away. Your breasts gleamed with the sun's opposing rays, your nipples erect from the cold air around you– it was a sight to behold– a sight just for him. He was sure then– that if there had been anyone else before him– hed make you forget every single one of them– he’d tear them apart limb from limb. No living being other than him was allowed to see what lay underneath.

As you removed your underwear, he swore he was salivating, your wonderfully crafted thighs shaking, your glistening folds out in the open for his viewing pleasure. He couldn't stop himself from running his finger up and down your damp slit, basking in the realization that he made you that way.

You gasped at his touch, arching your back in a silent beg for more.

“You like when I touch you?” he chuckled, rounding your clit with his calloused thumb- you borderline screamed at the feeling, nodding your head frantically. He continued with his assault, his middle finger making its way to your dripping entrance, teasing the area as he basked in the sound of your cries.

“Please, Tomura– please touch me!”

It was a pitiful wine, and if you weren’t in such an out of bodied state you may have even been embarrassed, though for the moment you were just thankful, because you could feel his finger pressing its way into your folds, wiggling itself around until tit found the perfect spot– the spot that had you seeing stars in the middle of the day.

His hand was fast, fucking you with purpuse, making sure to hit the spot that had you squealing over and over again, unwilling to let up.

“Say it again– say my name again.” he was right by your ear, kissing up and down your throat, using his teeth to bite and suck on any spot he found worthy of his affection.

“Tomura!” you cried, fucking yourself down on his hand as he added another finger.

“Again!” he growled, biting into your throat, making sure to leave the impression of his teeth behind, unwilling to stop until he suited you properly marked as his.

“TOMURA!” you screamed as a flood of pleasure erupted into your body popping just as soon as it arrived– your body jerking as tears ran down your face, unable to hold in the pleasure he was giving you.

Slowly his fingers stopped their brutal pace, popping out one by one as his thumb gave your clit a few extra lazy circles that had you sobbing from overstimulation.

He almost came right there, memorized by your body begging for his attention and then snapping in two once it became too much.

Your breath was hollow, shaking, and unstable– but you weren't done yet, you had only just begun.

Using all the strength you had left you wrapped your legs around Shigaraki, pulling him as close to yourself as possible.

He yelped in surprise, his head falling into the throat that he had thoroughly loved.

“What–”

“Fuck me Tomura.”

He groaned, his cock twitching at your demand, but oh so ready to grant your wish.

Slowly, he lined himself up with your sopping wet heat, he took a deep breath, preparing his body for what is sure to be something completely and utterly overwhelming.

Pushing into you, you both groaned, the feeling of being full and the feeling of being sucked in taking you both in an instant.

Shigarakis' breaths were few and far between, and he wasn't moving.

“Tomura?” you questioned, turning your head to look at his face.

“I'm going to cum if I move.” he whispered, embarrassment fully taking over any power he thought he had.

“Do it then!” you laughed, using your legs to force him to move just a bit.

He thrust back, whimpering before his body jerked and he fell on top of you.

“Wow, you weren't kidding.” you joked, giggling at the circumstance, feeling on top of the world for having the world's most dangerous villain fall apart right before your eyes.

“Shut up.”

—

As the day came to a close, you found yourself rushing towards Kurogiris last known whereabouts.

You didn't have to leave Shigaraki afterall.

#tomura x y/n #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura x reader #tomura shiragaki #shigaraki x you #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki imagine #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #my hero academia shigaraki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #fanfic #fanfiction

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ckret2 · 7 months

Text

Chapter 21 of honestly everyone's just sorta used to Bill being the shack's prisoner now (title tbd): Stan & Ford have a birthday party! Bill is not invited. He still manages to find a way to be fiendishly evil.

Also featuring: Wendy deciding what she thinks about "Goldie," the shack's mysterious secret "guest."

####

Mabel slid a piece of paper across the gas station front counter, listing a dozen scratch card serial numbers spread across three different games. "I'd like these numbers in these cards, please!"

The cashier gave the paper a dubious look, then looked at Wendy. "We're not supposed to sell the scratch cards outta order."

"Please?" Wendy asked. "Just a little exception? For us?"

"We really wanna play our lucky numbers," Mabel said. "Plus, I had a vision. In my sleep."

She and Wendy gave him their best big-eyed hopeful pouty looks.

The cashier shrank back. "Well..." He averted his gaze from the adorableness that was Mabel, and sighed. "Just this once. But I don't want to see you two in here with your nonsense again." He started unrolling one of the spools of scratch cards, inspecting the numbers. "These'll be over a hundred dollars."

Wendy winced. "Ooh. Mabel?"

Mabel offered three dollars and a quarter. "That's fine! Can we start with 177 from the beach cards?"

She received the card, depicting a pastel beachy scene next to five miniature bingo boards. She confidently scratched off the card to reveal its winning numbers, pointed at the fourth bingo board where she'd just gotten bingo, and said, "That's $200! Our payout, please."

The cashier took the card, inspected the numbers, and stared at Mabel in amazement. She grinned at him. Wordlessly, he opened his cash register, pulled out several twenties, and offered them over.

"Thank you!" Mabel accepted the money and pointed at the paper. "The rest of our cards, please?"

As they left with eleven scratch cards, Mabel handed Wendy three twenties—"Here! For helping!"—and stuck the rest of the change in her pocket.

"Dude. That was awesome. You were so cool in there, like—" Wendy put on her coolest, most unruffled expression. "'Our payout, please.'"

"That's just the kind of rock star I am." Mabel put the scratch cards in her bike's basket. "Thanks for the help, Wendy!"

"Sure, any time." Especially if she got a surprise $60 out of it. "Heading back to the shack?"

"Yeah! I've gotta finish decorating for the party!" Mabel waved as she took off down the road. "See you then!"

"See you." She guessed that meant she wasn't invited to hang until the party started. Given the touchy situation inside the shack, no surprises there.

She wondered what Goldie had to do with Mabel's interesting trick with the scratch cards. She was sure there was something.

####

Bill leaned into the kitchen. "Hey! How's that cake coming along?"

Mabel stopped arranging dozens of candles in the frosting to point at the door. "Out, Bill! Nobody's getting cake until the party!"

Dipper said, "You don't even deserve a slice."

"Agree to disagree!" Bill said. "But if you don't give me one anyway, I'll annoy you about it for weeks."

"He can have a slice at the party," Mabel said. "The cake's big enough." A couple of overcrowded candles spilled off the edge of the cake. Mabel picked them up and carefully stuck them back in.

Bill fought back a laugh. "Are you sure about all those candles? If you light 'em all up at once, you'll burn off everyone's eyebrows," he said. "But unfortunately, you'd also melt the frosting."

"The frosting's already a mess," Mabel said, peering at the barely-visible HAPPY BIRTHDAY STAN & FORD hidden beneath the forest of candles. "But Soos doesn't have any of those number-shaped candles, so..."

"Roman numerals," Bill said.

"Oooh." Mabel looked at the cake thoughtfully, and started pulling out candles. "How do you make 62?"

"LXII. Fifty-ten-one-one," Bill said, then shot a grin at Dipper—who was glaring at Bill for answering before he could. "Isn't that right, smart guy?"

"Yeah," Dipper grumbled.

"You kids take the credit if they ask about the candles," Bill said. "They'll just get grumpy if they know I had any influence on the decorations."

Mabel carefully tilted the bottom leg of the L just enough to keep the tip out of the frosting, and started smoothing out the rest of the candle-pockmarked surface. "Now I've got enough empty frosting to add some decorations!" Mabel said. "I don't have enough time to draw something complicated. Maybe rainbows?"

Dipper shook his head. "I don't think either of them would be into that."

"Draw gold bars," Bill said.

Mabel blew a raspberry. "That's what you'd want on a cake!"

"No, I'd want me on a cake. Stanley likes gold! Stanford should like gold more, you could help him develop a taste for it."

"No."

Dipper suggested, "Maybe you could draw gambling stuff on Stan's side of the cake? Since they couldn't have their birthday party in Vegas like he wanted." Dipper shot a sideways glance at the reason they had to stay in Gravity Falls. (Bill shrugged. It wasn't like he'd asked the Stan twins to stay in town.) "You could do poker chips or playing cards or—"

"Dice!" Mabel said. "Dipper that's perfect, they both like dice! We can put normal dice on Grunkle Stan's side and nerdy dice on Grunkle Ford's—"

"Oh, that's great! I've got my DD&MD dice bag in the attic!"

"I'll look in the board game closet!"

Dipper and Mabel took off.

Bill waited until he was sure they were gone.

He checked out the kitchen window for witnesses, then picked up a dozen abandoned birthday candles, licked off the frosting, and hid the candles in his hoodie's hood. Too bad they hadn't left a matchbook out, but Bill knew a fun little trick with an empty aluminum can and a tube of toothpaste that would work just fine.

When the kids returned and Mabel stuffed the remaining forty-odd candles back in their box, they never noticed any were missing.

####

Mabel had put herself in charge of the guest list. Which explained why, along with Stan and Ford's actual friends, all Mabel's friends had been invited; as well as—among other people—the mayor ("he's like the Mystery Shack's best customer, Grunkle Stan!"), Shmebulock ("Jeff said Shmebulock stole the Journal 4 you started last fall, I was hoping he might gift it back"), and the Hand Witch and her boyfriend. ("Whaaat, Grunkle Ford you met her TOO?! What a coincidence! Dipper, did you know he met—oh, you did. I didn't read those pages!") It would have been a lot more awkward if not for the fact that the birthday boys were awed and humbled that so many people had attended knowing they were coming to a birthday party for Stan and Ford Pines, and none of the guests had even been bribed.

When Soos and Melody helped Mabel carry out the birthday cake, Ford laughed at the sight of it. "Did you make Roman numerals out of candles? How clever! Stanley, do you know what Roman—"

"Yeah, yeah. I watch the Football Bowl, you know," Stan said. "Honestly, I was expecting this thing to be covered in candles."

"I almost went that route," Mabel said. "But I thought I'd save that kind of firepower for the Fourth of July."

"Hah! That's my girl."

"Happy Birthday" was sung, candles were blown out, and the party lined up to get their cake. Mabel cut a slice, loaded it on a paper plate, then glanced toward the attic window. "I'll be right back! I've gotta use the bathroom. Don't open my presents until I'm back!"

She trotted into the house, taking the cake, a napkin, and a plastic spoon with her.

####

Bill met Mabel at the top of the stairs and scooped the cake out of her hands. "You're my hero, star girl." He carried it halfway back to his window seat, stopped mid-step, and asked, "You got a piece with my name on it?"

"I got the slice with the 'Birt' and took off the extra frosting!"

"Oh," Bill said. "Heh. That's—cute." And he looked so much like he was trying to pretend he wasn't genuinely touched by the gesture, that Mabel didn't have the heart to tell him she'd only thought of it halfway up the stairs.

He flopped back in his usual window seat post—where, Mabel couldn't help but notice, he had a perfect view of the party happening outside without him. She grimaced. "I'm sorry you can't come to the party," she said. "But you did torture and try to murder the birthday boys... and most of the party guests... and left half of them with lingering trauma..."

"Speaking of, how's your therapist doing?"

"Oh, good, she's good. I think she's gonna write a paper about Mabeland."

Bill fell silent, staring out the window. Mabel almost went downstairs—when he said, "You know, I was the only person who gave Stanford a gift on his thirtieth birthday."

Mabel turned back around so fast she almost tripped on the top step. It wasn't often she got a double dose of Bill lore and Grunkle lore. "You were?"

"He didn't make new friends in Oregon and he didn't keep up with his old friends from college. His parents mailed him a gift, but it got here a week late. So I taught him a couple spells to see the stars during the day and keep rain from landing on him, and told him where to be in Portland that afternoon if he wanted to pick up a free cake from a fancy bakery."

"Aww. That was... nice of you." But Mabel had to hesitate before saying it, automatically wondering what Bill's motives had been for giving the gifts and what his motive now was for sharing this.

Bill waved a hand dismissively. "Ahh, they were parlor tricks. They're easy, flashy cantrips that impress humans but don't do any harm," he said. "Not much harm, anyway. That night he told me all about how he was the only human to see his zodiac constellation on his birthday. The genius spent all day staring at the sun so he could see the stars!" He laughed.

But it quickly petered out. "And now I'm personally banned from his birthday party. Funny, huh?"

Maybe Bill was trying to get Mabel to pity him; but she kinda thought he was just pitying himself. She patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Losing friends is tough," she said. She paused. "And that's why we should be nice to them."

Bill cracked up so loudly Mabel half expected the party outside to hear him. "Okay, Glory Unicorn! I've learned today's moral about friendship. Get outta here. See if I ever tell you anything again." But he was grinning as he shooed her off.

####

When Mabel came back cakeless, Dipper gave her a dark look, but said nothing.

"Are we opening gifts yet?" Mabel picked up a box and flung an arm around Dipper's shoulder. "You've gotta open this one first! It's from both of us to both of you!" She waved it at Stan and Ford until they took it together.

Ford pointed at the card that said, "To our Grunkles, from your gniece and gnephew!" "That isn't how you spell niece and nephew?" Stan elbowed him.

"Nope!" Mabel said. "But it's how you abbreviate great-niece and great-nephew."

"Ah, I see! Very creative."

"Nice recovery," Stan muttered. Ford elbowed him back. Together they tore off the wrapping paper and opened their box.

Inside were two more boxes, each small enough to hold in one hand—a square one labeled "Stan" and a long narrow one labeled "Ford."

Stan opened his box and pulled out a thick gold chain with a coin dangling from it. Engraved on the coin in sloppy text were the words "#1 Grunkle."

Soos held up a hand. "I did the engraving! First try."

Mabel pointed at the coin. "We made it out of pirate treasure that we have for reasons that we can't talk about! There's a skull on the back!"

They'd hung it from his favorite gold chain. He'd been missing it for a week—and he'd never even suspected the kids. How about that. Choked up, Stan said, "It's—it's great." He took off the chain he was currently wearing, chucked it into the bushes, and put on his gift. "C'mere, you two." He wrapped his arms around Dipper and Mabel.

Soos held his arms out hopefully. Stan rolled his eyes, but waved him over for a hug too.

Ford opened his box. "A pen?"

Dipper said, "It has an ergonomic grip, can take standard ink refills, writes super smoothly—I tested it out myself—makes a very satisfying click, and it's red with gold trim to match your journals."

Mabel said, "I helped pick out the design!"

"... And that's why it's also sparkly."

"I didn't do the engraving on that one," Soos said. "We had a lotta spare pirate coins but only one pen, so. They got it done at the mall."

Ford rotated the pen in his hand until he spotted the (more professional-looking) engraving on the barrel, filled in with gold. "Mine says #1 Grunkle too?"

Dipper said, "C'mon, we're not gonna choose between you two."

Stan said, "Oh, I see how it is! Trying to butter us both up, are you?" He reached under Dipper's hat to ruffle his hair. Smiling, Ford carefully slid his gift into his coat's breast pocket next to his usual pen.

####

When Bill saw that Mabel was back outside, he got up, left the rest of his cake on the window seat, scooted aside a storage box sitting forgotten in a corner of the attic, and pried a loose board from the wall.

He took his stolen candles out of his hood, wrapped them in the party napkin Mabel had given him, and stashed them in a plastic sandwich bag where he'd already stowed a crushed cider can, its edges torn and sharp.

Then he re-hid the bag, fixed the wall, replaced the storage box, gently brushed some cobwebs over the floor to hide the trail in the dust where he'd scooted the box, and turned away from his hiding spot.

To see a gnome wearing a journal like a backpack.

They stared at each other.

"You didn't see anything," said Bill.

"Shmebulock," said Shmebulock.

Bill eyed Shmebulock, the staircase, the window—and then dropped into a crouch, knees and feet spread apart like a sumo wrestler, teeth bared.

Shmebulock cracked his knuckles.

Five minutes later, Bill added Journal 4 to his hiding spot, with a mental note to find a new hiding spot the gnomes didn't know about later.

Unfortunately, Shmebulock escaped with Bill's cake.

####

Wendy squinted up at the blonde shape in the attic window. "You know—all this last week, I kept thinking I saw someone up there. I just assumed it was my imagination," she said. "Guess Goldie didn't get invited to the birthday party, huh?"

"Nope," Dipper said. "And for good reason."

Wendy laughed. "Yeah, sounds it."

Dipper glanced toward his grunkles. At the moment, Ford was opening a cheap set of watercolor paints and giving Mabel an exasperated look. ("I thought we could try them out together! And hate them together!" "All right, that might be fun.") He lowered his voice and picked at his cake. "So. You found out the big secret, huh?"

"Yup," Wendy said. She lightly punched Dipper's shoulder. "Hey—don't look so glum, man. I'm not mad you didn't tell me. There's some kind of family drama and a missing person case involved. I get it—you don't talk about that kind of stuff outside the family."

"Yeah, hah. Right," Dipper said. "So, what do you think of... Goldie?"

Wendy glanced up at the figure in the window. "We didn't talk a whole bunch before Goldie and Stan started arguing about plagiarism," she said, "but I got that she's some kind of wildcard paranormal investigator who gives off insane grifter energy. And seems really mentally messed up from being trapped in another dimension, but like, the kind of messed up that probably makes you fun at parties?" She was already mentally playing Goldie off of her friend group, trying to figure out how well she'd mesh with them. She seemed like the kind of person who'd be into some harmless trespassing and recreational vandalism. "How old is Goldie? She was working on a Ph.D., so that's what, mid-20s? Mid-20s but actually mid-50s after not aging for thirty years? Honestly, if I just met her on the street I would've thought she was like, 15. She does not look her age." Maybe it was the lack of makeup?

Under his breath, Dipper muttered, "You have no idea." He glanced away from Wendy, stuffed a large forkful of cake in his mouth, and mumbled to himself, "How much should I say? Sharing too much could be dangerous, but if I don't say anything..." Mumble, mumble.

Wendy would never tell Dipper how funny it was that he monologued to himself and hoped nobody would notice. Usually she'd politely ignore him, but if there was something dangerous... She lightly elbowed him. "Dipper. Come on," she said. "I can tell something's eating you. You can trust me."

"Ugh, I know, but..." Dipper glanced again at the rest of the birthday party—just far enough to be out of earshot, currently entranced by some thingamajig Fiddleford had gifted the Stans—and let out a heavy sigh. Voice low, he said, "Okay, Wendy, listen. For your own safety, you need to know that Goldie is way worse than whatever you heard about him last night. And I can't tell you why, because of reasons I also can't tell you—believe me, I wish I could tell you, but—don't trust him, okay?" Dipper gave her an earnest, pleading look. "Just don't. He's dangerous. That's all I can say."

It figured that even after Wendy learned the big secret, she'd just find another, smaller secret hidden underneath. Like a matryoshka doll. (She quietly made note of the "he" and wondered if Goldie had been part of the queer scene in the 80s, or if he'd only figured himself out while he was in ghost land.) "I'm assuming he's dangerous for Weird Spooky Paranormal reasons?"

"Yeah," Dipper said, teeth grit. "Yeah, basically."

He wanted to tell her more, she wanted to know more, and she was ready to play 20 questions on Goldie's backstory. Picking through what she'd learned last night for clues, Wendy asked, "Is it connected to Ford's research? All the weird magic stuff he got into?"

"Um." Dipper shrugged uncertainly. "Y...yeah? But... bigger than that?"

"Is it portal stuff." What was the most dangerous thing she knew of that was connected to the portal. "Is it Bill stuff."

Dipper let out an anguished groan, pulled off his hat, and buried his face in it. "I can't tell you more than I already have!"

"Oh my god it's Bill stuff."

Dipper eloquently said, "MRRGHF."

"Okay got it, so Goldie was some kind of Bill groupie or discovered how to summon him or something. Something like that. I don't need to know the details! But he's totally Bill-adjacent."

"Yeah. Yeah. Yep." Dipper nodded emphatically. "Bill-adjacent is... the best way to describe Goldie."

"But Bill's gone, right? So Goldie's like a cultist without a cult leader. Doesn't that mean he's harmless now?" Wendy asked. "Or do you think he's gonna try to cause the apocalypse in honor of his boss or whatever."

Dipper tugged his hat back on his head and straightened it out. "I'm sure he'd try to end the world again if he could, but... we're all still trying to figure out what he can do."

"So, domestic terrorism risk. Cool," Wendy said. "Y'know, I sorta expected to run into a guy like that in the shack eventually, but I always thought they'd be here because of Stan, not Ford." She rolled her eyes. "I'll warn you if he starts talking about ending the world or anything."

"Thanks, Wendy." Dipper glanced uneasily toward the birthday party. (They were still distracted, currently trying to douse the flamethrower on Fiddleford's birthday gift. It was trying to eliminate the competitor gifts.) "Just... don't tell anybody else, okay? If the town finds out that Goldie is—you know—Bill-adjacent..."

"Relax." She pantomimed zipping her mouth. "I'm not gonna organize an angry mob."

She glanced up at the attic window. Goldie was still up there, staring down at the party. He noticed Wendy staring and made a face at her.

She made the same face back, and saw him silently laughing. Okay, he had bad taste in friends, obviously; but Goldie seemed kinda cool in an unhinged way. From what Wendy had gathered, Bill had conned and then betrayed half the people she knew—and if the Pines had only just managed to get Goldie back on this plane of reality, months after Weirdmageddon, that meant Bill hadn't bothered to rescue him when he could, so Goldie was just another victim. Maybe he just needed to be reintegrated into society.

Dipper said, "Hey, Stan just poured punch on the robot and it made the fire worse. Do you think we should help?"

Wendy looked at the fire—and looked up at the fire. She was moving before she spoke. "Yeah, let's do something about that."

They rejoined the rest of the party, and Wendy put Goldie out of her mind.

####

Ford stared at the ring on his left sixth finger.

Welcome back, the Hand Witch had said.

Thirty years ago, he'd met her at a carnival. She'd told him that he'd chosen the wrong allies and would doom himself for it. She'd given him a ring with a blue cabochon and told him that if it ever turned black, there was no hope for him.

He'd dismissed her as a phony palm reader; and, the night he'd decided Bill was right about Fiddleford not being bold enough to follow through with the portal project, the ring had turned black, and he'd thrown it in the lake.

Now here it was on his finger again.

He didn't think her a phony now. Everything she'd told him had been true. And anyway, it was hard to doubt she had real magic when she spent half the party trying to stop two small disembodied hands from escaping her pockets to visit Mabel.

"Why are you giving this back to me?"

"It's your birthday! And I thought it might be useful."

"For what? Am I in danger?"

"I don't know, I'd have to give you another reading to see." She had pulled a cartomancy deck from her pocket. "Do you want me to?" The card on the bottom of the deck had been a triangle with a snake slithering through its eye socket.

Ford hadn't wanted a reading. He knew now that what he'd called superstition back at that carnival might be a legitimate form of prophecy he simply didn't understand; but he was tired of living his life by signs and portends.

All the same, it was comforting to see that his ring was blue.

Ford's view of the ring was blocked by Stan shoving over the "Get Out Of One Misdemeanor Free" coupon Mayor Cutebiker had given as his birthday gift. "Hey, do you think I'd get in trouble if I made a buncha copies of this?"

Ford took the coupon and inspected it thoughtfully. "If you do get in trouble... a coupon counterfeiting charge couldn't possibly be worse than a misdemeanor, could it?"

"That's what I like to hear!"

It had been a surprisingly long day—and, by far, the best birthday either of them had had in well over forty years. (Was it really that long?) Now they were retired to the parlor Soos and Abuelita had converted into a double guest room, sitting on their beds facing each other as they got ready for sleep.

There was a knock at the door. Ford stood. "Coming—" He opened the door to see Bill's grinning face, a foot from his own. "Oh. You." Ford resisted the urge to step back, in case Bill interpreted as an invitation to come in.

"Hiya, birthday boy!" Bill's gaze immediately drifted down to Ford's coat pocket. "Hey—new pen? I like the sparkle, adds a little pizazz."

"What do you want, Cipher."

"Just to hand this over." Bill pressed a couple of envelopes into Ford's chest, and kept them pinned there with a fingertip until Ford reluctantly took them. "I knew you'd hate getting something from me at your party, so just for you I waited until all the festivities were over. You're welcome."

Ford studied the envelopes. They were two pieces of yellow construction paper that had been folded into envelope shape, and written on each one, in lurching crayon text that drifted up and down, was "Stanford" and "Stanley". "You made cards?"

"You're flattered."

"I most certainly am not."

"'The lady doth protest too much, methinks.'" Bill shrugged. "Hey, they're your birthday gifts. Toss them in the fire if that makes you happiest. You just might wanna open them first—you know, to make sure I didn't write a fire-activated explosion spell on the inside."

Stan grabbed his envelope out of Ford's hand and eyed it in deep suspicion. "And why did you make these?"

"Because it's your birthday. Come on! Why am I explaining this, it's your species's ritual."

"I mean why are you doing it? We all hate each other. We're planning your execution, here," Stan said. "So what's your angle?"

"What do you need my measurements for, you pervert."

"ALL right—" Stan stepped toward Bill, cracking his knuckles, and was only stopped by Ford's hand across his chest.

Bill leaned back against the hallway's opposite wall. "Whoa! Consider this a peace offering! You know—'no hard feelings for all the murder, attempted or planned'! I can be a polite house guest, even if I'm not a voluntary one." Bill smiled wryly, "I'm trapped on an alien planet where I know less than a dozen people and all of them hate me. It gets boring." He looked directly in Ford's eyes. "And we've got history. Is it so hard to believe I might want to be friends again?"

This time, Stan had to put a hand across Ford's chest.

Ford said, "You're up to something."

"Is that a statement or a question?"

"Statement."

"Then you don't want an answer. Enjoy your gifts! Or don't, I'm not your boss." Bill waved, and slunk around the corner back toward the living room.

Ford shut the door. He sat on his bed, examined the envelope, and glanced at Stan, who was sitting on his bed doing the same thing.

They grimaced at each other.

"Okay," Stan said. "Is this more dangerous if we do open it or don't open it?" He hefted his envelope in his hand. "This thing's pretty heavy for just a card."

"Is it?" Ford's wasn't very heavy. He turned on a lamp on a bedside table and held the envelope up in front of it, trying to see through the construction paper. "I think he's counting on us to open these. I doubt he set a trap that will activate if we leave it closed—it's not his style."

"So, what do we think. Some kinda hypnotic mind-control magic that's activated by reading it? Or is he just trying to bribe us into liking him better?"

"He probably doesn't have hypnotic mind-control magic. If he did, why would he have spent so long trying to manipulate humans into doing his bidding?"

"I dunno, maybe he's stupid."

Testily, Ford said, "He's not stupid."

"No—listen, I've been thinking about this for months," Stan said. "You spent thirty years hopping between a zillion different dimension, right? If there's already safe portals out there, why'd he spend so long tricking someone into building a crummy one that'd destroy the universe, instead of using one of those? He's gotta be stupid!"

"I've... wondered the same thing about the portal," Ford admitted grudgingly. "But, no—I've seen him use so many roundabout tricks to manipulate minds that if he were capable of overt mind control, I'm sure he'd have used it by now."

"Fine, so mind control's off the table. But we're probably safer if we leave these alone. If we open them, they might be an annoying attempt to kiss up to us, or they might be dangerous." Stan waved his envelope like a fan. "And, we're gonna open them anyway, because not knowing will kill us, right?"

In his youth, Ford had arrogantly looked down on Pandora. "Of course we're going to open them."

They opened their envelopes.

They both contained a sheet of type paper folded in half with nothing on the front and messages written inside. Ford's read, "Stanford– I'd tell you to go to hell, but you'd barely be there long enough for it to be worth the trip. Happy birthday! –Δέος" Charming. Particularly out of the heel who'd just claimed he wanted to be friends.

"Hey, what is this?" Stan held his letter out for Ford to see: "Stanley– You were only the accomplice. I won't hold a grudge. Happy birthday! –Δέος" Stan pointed at the last word, "Is this some kind of curse?"

"A signature. Bill's real name isn't 'Bill Cipher'—it's just one of many nicknames he uses when communicating with humans. And, when writing to people who know him well, he prefers to sign with that nickname. It's pronounced déos." It meant awe—whether manifested in the form of fear or reverence. And it probably was no coincidence that Bill had picked a word that, to the untrained ear, sounded so much like the Latin deus—god.

Once, long ago, waking up to find his own hand had written a letter signed by "Awe" in a foreign alphabet had filled Ford with awe. Now... well, now it looked a little try-hard, didn't it. "Between you and me, I think Bill likes that signature best because it starts with a triangle." In Bill's handwriting, the delta looked unusually equilateral.

"Really fond of his own face, isn't he," Stan said, digging in the envelope for the rest of his "gift"—and he pulled out a handful of scratch cards. "What the...?"

How the heck had Bill gotten his hands on those? Ford checked to see if his envelope had the same—and came out with five pieces of notebook paper instead, still tattered on the edge from being torn out of a spiral notebook, covered front and back with writing—multiple languages, some inhuman, with a smattering of complex sigils and symbols. The first line on the first page read "Spell to Resurrect Fowl (chicken, turkey, duck, etc.—funny at dinner parties!)" Ford slapped the pages face down on his nightstand without reading the next line.

"What is it?" Stan asked.

"Magic," Ford said, voice flat with irritation.

"A trap—?"

"No. Magic for me. Spells I don't know. The kind of knowledge I'd—document in my journals."

Stan processed that. He tossed his scratch cards down on his own nightstand. "Lemme get this straight," he said. "Less than two weeks since he tried to kill us, with no access to the outside world and no resources at his disposal but his stupid wits—without even getting his hands on a freaking envelope—he somehow managed to get us both thoughtful, considerate gifts that are deeply relevant to our personal interests and passions! Is that about right?"

"It seems to be, yes."

"That jerk! I oughta ring his neck!"

Ford nodded in agreement. "I didn't know you're into scratch cards." He tamped down the urge to lecture Stan on the statistical improbability of making a profit.

"See, if even you didn't know, now I'm even madder that he does!" Stan groaned in frustration. "I kicked the habit. Still like playing 'em if I get them as a gift."

"Hmm." That was all right, then. Couldn't lose money on scratch cards if somebody else had spent the money.

They glared together at their thoughtful, relevant, deeply unwanted gifts, trying to decide what to do about them. Stan was the first to let out a resigned sigh and snatch his up. "What the heck. They're already paid for, I'm not gonna throw away potential free money just because it came from him." He fished around in his discarded pants pockets for a quarter. "But I'm not gonna enjoy myself!" He flipped through the cards, noting they were each labeled in a corner from 1/11 to 11/11, and muttered, "Why'd he draw triangles on some of the numbers?"

Well, if Stan had caved into his curiosity... Back into the box, Pandora, and perhaps we'll find hope at the bottom.

"Mabel must've helped him get these," Stan said. "It's the only way. And these cards have glitter and unicorns all over them." He scratched off his first card, and said, "Hey, three bunny faces—how 'bout that? I made thirty bucks already."

"At least it's not a total waste," Ford muttered, skimming the pages before him.

It was a treasure trove.

A spell to uncook food. The cipher to decrypt the Voynich manuscript. A potion to change eye color. A river stone submerged not five miles away that, when dry, hovered. A ritual involving five hours of meditation and a lot of mushrooms that opened up psychic communication with Earth's nearest alien neighbors. An illusion to make the floor look like lava. ("Good for games if you're very bored and oppressed by gravity.") The names of five hitherto-unknown demon nobles, the sigils to summon and bind them, the fields of knowledge and political influence in which they were most helpful, and a few personal tips on how to best to twist their arms into doing a favor. A complicated way to grind glasses that let one see, depending on prescription strength, anywhere from several seconds to several minutes into the future. And on and on.

And Bill didn't just toss down a few mystical-sounding words and move on: in a few terse sentences after each spell, he hinted at the principles that made them work (freely mixing magic, physics, and metaphysics), the people who'd created or discovered the trick (whether human, inhuman, unearthly, or transdimensional), where Ford could go digging to independently verify the information if he didn't want to take Bill's word for it—and what other, greater things someone might use these tricks to do, if only they fully understood how they worked, if only they had the right teacher. Bill had filled the margins, scribbled extra info in red pen in between the rows of black to double the amount of text he could cram on each line. Ford could fill an entire journal just by copying, disentangling, and expanding on everything Bill had packed into this dense five-page grimoire.

Bill had given Ford more in this letter than he had in all the years he'd been posing as Ford's friend—excluding those accursed portal blueprints. He'd shared the kinds of things Ford had always dreamed his Muse might show him. He gave it away like a free sample to entice a new customer. Five pages of deep secrets meant nothing to Bill and his infinite knowledge. He could have done this all along. He only did it now to try to bribe Ford into sparing his life: see what you could miss out on?

As Ford read the pages, his hands trembled in rage.

"—two hundred dollars, two hundred fifty dollars," Stan muttered. "Those are the biggest yet." He waved the scratch cards at Ford. "I don't understand it! That's eight winners in a row! I've made almost a thousand bucks just by scratching these off—that's not luck! How's he do it? What kinda weird alien magic gives you scratch card telepathy?"

"I don't know. I had no idea he could identify winning scratch cards," Ford said. "But I'm not surprised."

Stan shook his head in amazement, and scratched the next card.

Ford crushed the notepaper pages into a ball.

And he smoothed them back out. Bill was a monster, but this knowledge was precious.

He looked at the Hand Witch's ring like it might tell him the correct course; but no matter which way his thoughts swayed, the gem remained a steady blue.

"This card's a thousand bucks all by itself," Stan said. "I've never won a thousand in my life. There's no way..." He scratched furiously at the last card, revealing symbols patterned after an array of gems and jewelry. "Five hundred!" Scratch scratch scratch— "Times five?! That's—!" He seized up all his cards and quickly tallied his winnings. "That's a total of nearly five thousand dollars!" He let out a disbelieving laugh. "Who needs Vegas? This monster's been better to me than she ever has!"

"Stanley, that's exactly what he wants you to think," Ford snapped. "He's giving us everything we want so we'll be more reluctant to kill him. This is less than chump change to him! Don't forget that his goal—"

"I know! I'm not stupid, I know what he's doing. Lotto numbers aren't worth the safety of the universe. But sh—shoot, Stanford, he handed me five grand for free and I'm keeping it."

"Fine," Ford said. "Fine. I suppose there's no point in throwing it away on principle."

"Darn straight!"

Ford glowered down at his underhanded "gift"—this little glimpse behind the veil into the mysteries of the universe. His whole chest bubbled and burned with rage; but beneath it—twinkling like a lonely star, twinkling like hope at the bottom of Pandora's box—was something he hadn't felt since Bill betrayed him.

Awe.

It was like waking up to a letter from his Muse.

This was who Bill could be—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—and he chose not to be. Why?! When this was so easy for him—why did he have to be what he was instead?

This charitable act only made the true Bill look even worse by contrast.

Ford re-smoothed the pages, carefully folded them in half, and stored them back in their construction paper envelope. He'd leave them there until he'd independently researched every one of these spells and ensured they did what Bill said they did and that there weren't any hidden side-effects.

And then he'd see about adding this information to his current journal.

No point throwing it away on principle.

####

(Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, I'd deeply appreciate hearing your thoughts! Thanks!)

#(me drawing Ford: *checks image reference a dozen times for tiny details*)#(me drawing Stan: *scrawls him out without consulting a reference once* Yeah that's grunkle shaped. Post it.)#grunkle stan #grunkle ford #bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

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obxsummer · 1 year

Text

Love Me or Leave Me // JJ Maybank

summary below the cut to avoid spoilers for s3 ep9

part of #obx3celebration

navigation

request: - hi babe! could i request jj × carrera!reader where they kinda have that hate/love situation and instead of kiara is reader who is send it to Kitty Hawk and JJ go save her? with the prompt "why wouldn't i save you?"

warnings: angst hehehe, shitty parenting, mental illnesses, forced kidnapping bc the carrera parents suck :)

For as long as you could remember, JJ Maybank hated you.

That might be a little harsh, but it felt true. The two of you bickered like none other, your friends constantly over your short tempers and constant arguments. You weren’t sure why the two of you couldn’t just get along like everyone else, but you definitely weren’t gonna be the first one to make amends for something that wasn’t your fault.

Kiara, on the other hand, would rip you a new one every time you and JJ got into it. You got it, he was one of her best friends and she hated to see the two of you arguing nonstop, but you weren’t gonna just quit so she could have her way. You and JJ had said some nasty shit to each other over the years and never once did she jump down his throat to get him to stop. So, you’d just continue this pattern until something changed.

The Chateau burning down was not on your bingo board of events to survive, but here you were. Thankfully, everyone had managed to get out safely before the whole structure collapsed in on itself.

“Could’ve been a faulty electrical wire.”

“Place was all wood. A tinderbox.”

“Thing just went up. Boom.”

You sat silently as everyone tried to think of an explanation for the cause of the fire to break the silence. You weren’t really sure what to say, especially to John B who just stared at the remains of his house sadly.

“Verdict’s in bro. Whoever’s up there does not like you.”

You scoffed at JJ’s words and gave him a sharp glare. “You’re really not helping, dude.”

JJ rolled his eyes at your need to chastise him. “You got something better to say, princess?” His fingers ripped at the grass below him before he chucked a glass beer bottle into the smoldering flames.

“Enough,” Kiara’s whisper was harshly directed at you as she sat on your other side. You bit the sassy remark she surely deserved and got to your feet to stomp down the path to the dock since there was nothing left to say here.

You pulled yourself onto one of the wooden railings and put your back to the group, taking the moment to soak in the breeze and rumble of thunder somewhere beyond. You loved the Pogues deeply, considering them family above all else. It felt silly to think you were the odd man out, but it felt like that more than you’d like to admit. Maybe they only had room for JJ’s antics and having two of you was more than they could handle. You tried to let it go, not think so deeply on it, because at the end of the day, they were all you had.

“Can you quit picking fights with him?” Your sister’s voice interrupted your moment of peace. You knew she’d come down here sooner or later, always having to repremand you for your actions.

“Can you bitch at him for once instead?” You snarked back, refusing to look at her and instead keeping your gaze on the storm clouds rolling in.

Kie sighed and moved to sit next to you. At the end of the day, you were still her sister, no matter how much you drove her crazy. It’s not like either of you had the best guidance either. “I’m not trying to bitch at you, but you guys are both important to me and it’s hard to listen to you argue so much.”

You shook your head slightly and kept quiet. There was no use in trying to convince her of anything else, of maybe it being someone else’s fault for a change. You were exhausted of this constant strong exterior you held, but you refused to let it break now.

Kiara realized you weren’t going to talk and turned back around to where the rest of the Pogues were walking towards the two of you. Regardless of how you felt towards JJ, it all needed to be put aside so your group could focus on getting to South America to save Big John.

“Sarah, when did you say the pilot was getting in?” John B’s voice came from behind you as you realized they were all under the cover of the dock near you.

“Probably like an hour?” Sarah guessed as she took a seat on the bench next to you. “I mean, once he’s here, my dad says we can leave whenever we want.”

“Okay, well, as much as I would love to ghost my parents again, I can’t.”

You could practically hear JJ’s inevitable protesting before it came. “Pope, we’re talking El Dorado here. Can you just slip out the back maybe?”

“I’m not doing that, okay?” Pope replied. You could hear his feet connect with the wood as he climbed down from his spot. “I’ll meet you at the airstrip in an hour?”

“One hour, Pope. Not a second later.”

Cleo’s voice faded out with Pope’s, leaving you to assume they left. If you had to guess, you and Kie should probably do the same. Your parents would flip their shit if you left unannounced again.

“I guess I’ll go pack some stuff and break the news to my parents.”

You turned at Kie’s plan and finally faced the remainder of the group. “I got it. They’re less likely to say no if just one of us goes to tell them. I’ll go.”

“Y/N, I’ll come with-”

“Nah, Kie. She said she’s got it. Let her go.” Your sister’s protests were cut off by none other than JJ, unsurprisingly. He was staring right back at you, probably hating the fact that you were coming in the first place. “I’m serious, Y/N. One hour or we’re leaving without you.”

You hopped down, ignoring Kiara’s concerned face as you gave JJ a brief glance. “Yeah, got it.”

There was a tone of defeat in your voice that made JJ’s heart clench. He knew he was tough on you, worse than he should’ve been. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure why he was like that. It’s just always felt like that’s how your relationship was supposed to be, but watching you walk away, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

The walk to your house passed in a blur of overthinking. You knew your parents weren’t going to say yes and this was going to be a disaster that you’d have to sneak out of. You’d do it for John B though, as long as it meant getting his dad back.

You paused at the edge of the driveway to take in your house, debating what the hell you were going to say, as a car pulled up behind you. Usually, you wouldn’t think much of it, except the man who climbed out looked a little too comfortable with approaching you.

“Hey, Y/N. Hey, come back,” He called out as you started walking up the stairs to the door of your house. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”

You almost laughed at the statement. Out of all the things you could say when approaching someone, that was probably the most suspicious. “Uh, no thanks.” You stepped a little faster across the porch, mumbling about stranger danger under your breath before grabbing the door handle. The nerves kicked in when you realized it was locked. You started knocking aggressively. “Hey. Dad!”

The door clicked unlocked to reveal another man you didn’t know. You took a step back. “Who are you?”

“Look, this can go one of two ways.”

You glanced at his shirt, the logo on it sending you into panic mode as you realized what was happening. “No, no, no.” The next step back sent you into the first man’s chest, his hands quickly grabbing you.

“I’m sorry, honey. We’re sending you away for a while.” Your mom’s figure appeared in the doorway, your dad hovering behind her. “They say that Kitty Hawk’s the best.”

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice cracked as the other man grabbed your left arm, both of them holding a little bit tighter than you’d like. “What the hell?”

“We just need to try this, okay? We’re just trying to help you and your sister.”

You closed your eyes, refusing to believe that your parents would actually put you through this. “Mom, Mom please!”

You ignored your parents explanations, fighting against the hold they had on you. This was unforgivable. You’d never come home again, never see your friends or Kie. You screamed out, hoping someone somewhere would maybe hear you and come to help.

All chances of that ended the second you were thrown into the backseat of a car and the door slammed shut. You refused to look at your parents, kicking aggressively at the window, the door, anything you could reach. The two men hopped in the front seats and started the car, driving away a second later, leaving all of your hope behind in the process.

Meanwhile, Kie, JJ, John B, and Sarah were waiting anxiously by the private jet. Pope, Cleo, and you hadn’t been seen or heard from and over an hour had past. JJ was getting angry, stressed out that your group was about to be separated once again.

“Dude, where is everybody?” He tossed his backpack against the pavement in anger.

“I don’t know man!”

JJ threw his arm towards the Twinkie. “We should get in the Twinkie, and we should just get ‘em. That’s what we should do!” John B attempted to calm him down to no avail.

“Guys, there’s Pope and Cleo right there,” Kie interrupted their arguing as the duo turned to see their friends pulling up on Pope’s motorbike.

“Were you guys waiting for us?” Cleo asked rhetorically, knowing exactly what was going on moments before.

JJ scooped his backpack off the ground aggressively. “Yes, we were. You’re late. Did you actually convince your pops this time or…”

Pope climbed off the bike and motioned to the girl behind him. “Cleo convinced him.”

JJ moved forward to high five the girl in question before doing their handshake. “My girl. That’s what I’m talking about! I thank you for being a part of my crew.”

Pope took a quick headcount and realized they were short one. “Hey, uh. Where’s Y/N?”

Everyone’s eyes landed on Kie who could only groan and cover her face in her hands. “It’s gotta be my parents. They’ve been up our ass ever since we got back.”

“Do you think they said she couldn’t come?” Sarah asked.

Kie shrugged, “I mean, maybe. But what’s the point in keeping her here if I’m going?”

“We’re gonna have to do this without her.”

To everyone’s surprise, it was JJ that declined Pope’s idea. “No,” He stated bluntly before turning to John B. “Give me the keys.”

“No, dude. No, no, no, no, no.”

JJ grabbed him by his shoulders. “Gimme the keys right now.”

John B shook his head and shrugged JJ’s hands off. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea now, JJ.”

“Look man,” JJ let out a deep sigh, his gaze flickering to the sky for a moment before he faced John B again. “Just give me an hour, please. It’ll be like a black ops mission, in and out. Surgical removal type shit. Plus, I kinda owe her.”

The smirk that formed on John B’s face was comical. He had a feeling as to why JJ was always so harsh with you, but this conversation confirmed everything he needed to know.

“Stop making that face and gimme the keys,” JJ directed, trying his best to ignore the smile his best friend was making at him.

“Okay, well. Yeah. You owe her, right? You owe her.”

JJ snatched the keys out of midair and took off towards the Twinkie, giving zero hesitation as he threw himself through the passenger window despite the protests behind him.

“That door opens, bro!”

He couldn’t care less about their opinions and took off across the airstrip, his mind set on one thing. Getting you back.

The ride to the wilderness camp was uneventful. Your nerves refused to settle as the drive passed in a blur of trees and grassland before you pulled up to the entrance gate. The driver confirmed your presence to the guard before you were allowed through. On each side you could see campers gardening, mowing the lawn, or doing laundry.

The two men led you out of the car and further into the grounds. Campers moved by, all of them in t-shirts or tank tops with the camp logo strewn across. You were met with a woman as you reached the end of the pathway. She directed you to follow to where her office was. A stack of clothing was shoved in your hands and a changing room pointed at for you to enter.

You did so begrudgingly, replacing your clothing with the stiff t-shirt and cloth shorts. The woman was awaiting you upon your exit, motioning for you to sit across from her.

“Thank you, Y/N, for joining us and putting on our uniform.”

You folded your arms across your chest and leaned back into the cushion of the chair. “Like I had a choice.”

The woman was almost expecting your reaction. “Well, now, the good news is, we have a name for your condition. ODD. Opposition defiant disorder.”

“What is that?” Your voice was full of disgust at the idea of being diagnosed with their false beliefs.

“It’s consistent opposition to authority.”

You rolled your eyes. “Did you just make that up? Sounds like bullshit to me.” You hadn’t even been here ten minutes and they think they know what you’ve been through?

“As I was saying, consistent opposition,” The woman returned. “Now, fortunately, it’s very treatable with medication.”

You cut her off instantly. “I’m not taking medication.”

“See that, that right there? Your reaction. You just confirmed my diagnosis. Now, we can help with this.”

You groaned and pushed your fingers through your hair. “Your professional diagnosis,” You scoffed, “Right. Um. Do you mind if I use the restroom? Long drive.”

“Of course, right there.”

You followed the direction she was pointing in and walked into the small room. After you shut and locked the door, your feet were instantly on the counter to get up to the window. The handle squeaked as you cranked it, the window not moving in the slightest. Fists started pounding on the door behind you as you tried to shove the window open in a last ditch effort.

“No, no! Get off me!” You shouted as someone latched around your waist, tugging you backwards off the counter. Another set of hands joined on your arm, the two men pulling you from the cabin. “You people are crazy!”

You fought them the entire way through the grounds, kicking and shouting against them to make it clear that you didn’t want to be here. Eventually, they brought you up the steps of a cabin and shoved you inside before slamming the door. There wasn’t a soul to be found, just a few ratted sheets strews across the sets of bunk beds.

Your back hit the wall, tears finally building in your eyes as you slid down to the ground. The sob was heavy in your chest, air fighting to get to your lungs at the thought of seriously having to fight through this alone. You’d been susceptible to crumbling when you’re left alone, having it happen many times growing up. That’s why you always found comfort in the Pogues, in people who would be there no matter what, no questions asked. This was probably what JJ always wanted, the Pogues on an adventure without him having to deal with you.

You stared ahead at the scribbles on the wall; I feel so much better written back at you. God knows how wrong those words were to you.

The next few hours went by like paint drying on the wall. You tried to fall asleep, to escape for just a little bit. You couldn’t sleep on their shitty beds, your mind wandering to if your friends and sister were flying thousands of miles away above you. You wouldn’t blame them if they did, after all, JJ said only an hour and you were at least three behind by this point.

You were startled when the front door was thrown open. “Y/N? Sweetie? Can you come out here?”

You shuffled off the bed to meet the woman and the guard she came with on the screened in patio. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but at Kitty Hawk we feel you have the strength to hear all the news, including bad news.”

“What happened?” Your question wasn’t meant to be rude, but your first thought went to your friends and the possibilities of what could’ve happened. You found it hard to believe your parents would feel the need to tell you if anything went wrong with them, knowing they’d probably be rejoicing.

“Well, your cousin was here a minute ago.”

You frowned, not knowing who could’ve possibly stopped by. “Wait, what cousin?”

“A young man, blond. He asked me to tell you that Marley, well, he passed away.”

You tried not to look completely confused by her statement but knew it was slippin on your face anyway. “Like Bob Marley? Because-”

“No, your Siamese mix, Marley.”

You figured it would be better to feign shock than act completely clueless, at least buying time for whatever this was. The woman wrapped you in a hug as you let out faux sobs. “You know, I’m actually gonna need a little more time to process,” You choked out as you stepped out of her grip.

She let you move back into the cabin, closing the door behind as you took a seat on the bottom bunk bed. You let out a deep breath, your heart starting to race at the idea of someone actually coming to rescue you.

“Blond.” The word slipped out of your mouth quietly. No way in hell JJ would follow you here, especially with how adamant he was to leave on time. If anything, you figured Kiara would, but it was too big of a risk for her. Pope and Cleo were the only other possibility, but they didn’t have blond hair and John B and Sarah needed to get to his dad asap.

JJ came back. For you. Despite all the shit you both put each other through nonstop, he came back.

Now all you had to do was get out.

You busied yourself with the various books left in the cabin, all of them relating to obedience, ironically. You just had to wait it out until the night when you could hopefully get JJ’s attention somehow and get the hell out of here.

You were surprised when the door opened again to reveal the woman who “diagnosed” you alongside another Kitty Hawk employee.

“Y/N, we know you’re grieving and feel you’re best supported by your peers, so we’re going to relocate you.”

You were confused on how they ever got that you were supported that way, given that you haven’t told them shit. “I-I really feel like I need some more time to reflect.” You didn’t want to risk JJ not being able to find you here if he already knew.

“No stalling. Come on. We’re putting you in a dorm. Cabin six, let’s go.” The worker grabbed the bag from the floor that your parents had supposedly packed for you. You stood up, realizing there was no room for argument and started to follow. There was a nagging feeling at your chest to at least do something, leave a hint for JJ somewhere.

“Hey, uh, just one sec!” You shouted to them before running back towards the room and grabbing the misplaced sharpie that was hidden in your bed. You quickly scrambled Cabin 6. P4L in big black letter amongst the other writing on the bed frames before darting out to follow them.

Thunder continued to echo around you, the sky slowly turning dark with the lingering storm. Storms usually brought you so much comfort and you were hoping this one would be the same.

The girls all stared as you walked into the group cabin, each of them pausing in their actions at the sight of you.

“Girls, this is Y/N. She’s had some tough family news. Let’s show her some empathy and love, okay? Can we do that?”

Hushed whispers and odd looks followed the worker’s question. You nodded to yourself, realizing you were in a bit too far over your head and followed to where they set your bag on the top bunk. You huffed, climbing up onto the bed space and tried to avoid the intense eyes.

As thunder cracked above, you could only hope JJ found your clue.

The cabin succumbed to darkness not too long after, the storm finally raging against the wooden structure. You couldn’t sleep, mind too busy and it was fucking freezing despite the thin blanket they gave you. You wondered if this was it, if you were really stuck here for God knows how long, maybe forever. If Kiara and them got away, it was severely unlikely they were coming back. You couldn’t bring yourself to blame them.

A few tears slipped out despite your best efforts to control them. You’d never been good with dealing with emotions, especially when you were left alone for so long. Like you’d said, this wasn’t the first time it happened and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. Usually Kiara came to dig you out of your self-dug hole, but she wasn’t here, and these girls were less than likely to let you talk it out.

You tried really hard to keep everyone happy. That’s all you’d done your entire life, put everyone else ahead of you. JJ was the only person who refused to let you, even if it came in the form of bickering and attitudes against each other. He never once let you put yourself out on the line for him. Sure, he wouldn’t stop you from doing it for other people, but never him.

The ugly realization that you’d been pushing away the one person you actually needed hit you like a train. JJ had always been there, you just never realized it. You always thought he was looking at someone else, ready to tell you off for just existing, but that wasn’t the case. He was just looking out for you and your feelings. Granted, it wasn’t the best way of doing it, but hey, that’s just JJ.

A harsh whisper broke you out of your thoughts. You tried to think nothing of it, after all being in a cabin with 12 other girls made it hard to sleep in silence. Clearly, it was something off because a small light flicked on shortly after.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Hi there. Uh, evening, miss. Uh, sorry. Sorry to bother y’all. Uh, shit. I know this looks bad but I come in peace. But I’m just looking for someone. I’m looking, looking for-”

You sat up at the too familiar voice, your eyes instantly catching the silhouette you’ve been waiting for. “Me.”

The girls whispered around you as you climbed out of the bunk, still clad in your jean shorts and the ugly Kitty Hawk hoodie they’d given you. JJ was staring right at you, a bandana around his neck in an attempt to keep from wandering eyes, his chest heaving at the success of finding you.

You didn’t fight the feeling anymore, instead running straight into him for a hug. He was ready, holding you closer to him than he ever had before. You tried to hold the tears in your eyes as you pulled back. “How did…how?”

“I know, okay. It’s a long story. No time to explain though. I.. wait, one thing though.” You’d never seen him so nervous in all your years of knowing him. “I know I’ve been a dick to you, for so long, a-and I just… Y/N, I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N/N.”

You stared at him with glazed eyes and forced a smile at him. “I love you.”

JJ didn’t seem as shocked as you expected him too. It was almost as if you took the words right out of his mouth. “I love you too.”

You weren’t really sure who moved first, but the next thing you knew, JJ’s lips were on yours. You held his cheeks lightly, basking in the moment of his hands on your back, holding you close. Abrupt cheering rang out around you, clapping following it as the girls watched the two of you have your moment.

“Whoa, hey! Keep it down, keep it down. Guys, come on, sh!” JJ attempted to get their attention after you two broke apart. You separated from him to grab your bag from the floor before grabbing his hand and running out the door.

“To the right! Go, go, go!” He directed the second you were off the stairs. “Can’t really go through the front gate.” He glanced back to make sure you were following him only to see you smiling at him. JJ didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but he was so glad that it was.

“I didn’t think anyone was gonna come back for me!” You admitted as the two of you finally made it past the main gate entrance.

JJ flashed you a smile as he continued to run. “You gotta have more faith in me.”

You tugged him to a stop just before the path you were on hit the road. This felt like one of those now or never situations, something you had to do in the moment or you’d never had the confidence again. “Jayj. Thank you, for saving me.”

“Why wouldn’t I save you?” He moved closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. He was full of adrenaline from your kiss, the taste of your chapstick still lingering on his tastebuds. “Don’t you ever think I wouldn’t come back for you again, you hear? You’re my girl. I’d never leave you behind.”

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bengiyo · 9 months

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Only Friends Ep 1 Stray Thoughts

We've been waiting for Jojo to be unleashed for a long time. Let's do this.

Wouldn't be a Jojo show without a Jennie cameo.

Oh, they're letting First sing again.

Real shit, I kinda like the wristbands to signal what people might be into at this bar. Hearkens back to older handkerchief traditions.

Ray is kinda feisty. He's so ready to beef with someone.

Oh my god I have been part of this friend group as the table keeper.

Neo looks so good.

Ew, vomit.

They are about to fuck up Mew's academic career.

Of course Khaotung is playing the rich brat.

Boston messed them up first by combining work and sex. He's definitely going to bring Top on as the designer.

Hello, again, Mark. Always glad to see you.

Okay, love seeing Nick and Boston vibe.

Very refreshinging to just see guys flirting with each other without the BL pretense. Even gives us Ray being shitty because he feels possessive of Mew.

Top said he's had enough of the sex tryhards.

Oh, Boston, what was that? You brought Top around your friends and now you're jealous of Mew?

DRAKE?!!!

Ray is that friend who always requires so much when we go out.

"I'm gonna charge you more than an airport taxi." 😂

First and Khaotung really are just so powerful. I'm glad this is a strong cast, because their teamwork when it's just them is still so enjoyable to watch.

Congratulations to ForceBook for being the first to have a scene on this show, and on the counter no less.

Not these two having ice cream since Mew isn't ready. Top is going to be a problem, but at least he understands what No means.

Should I keep a counter for how many times Ray throws up in this show?

First still has it. One fond look and it's over.

No one had Neo and Drske as the first to fuck on their bingo board. Cutting this with Nick jacking off to unethically acquired thirst traps? My goodness.

Oh interesting. Top didn't put his pants back on.

I know we all came here for the hot stuff, but I really like seeing Mew and Top negotiate intimacy during this first night together.

Sand put Ray in a POOR BOY shirt. Those used to cost $5 in the city now I can't get a good sandwich for less than $12.

Ray you could just say thanks. No need to be a dick constantly.

This book store date is cute.

Okay, Nick! I like this thirst trap play!

Everyone is just going for it! Good job, Neo and Mark.

I really liked this one week montage.

Ray is channeling Bruce Wayne. "Harvey Dent. Can we trust him?"

Boston called Ray right out on his crush on Mew.

Only Cheum is invested in helping Mew out here.

"You're concerned about your friend, or you're just jealous?" Top clocked him.

Oh no is Force going to sing?

Oh, whew, it's just a grand gesture.

This was so much fun! I love that Boston and Ray are going to be the source of everyone's problems! Jealous Thot and Rich Boy With Anger Issues are some of my favorites. Why does First always have the most soulful eyes? Mew is another really good role for Book, and Force is clearly having the time of his life. Is there nothing Mark Pakin can't do? Lookjun is warming up, but I'm looking forward to more.

Also, Drake cameo! Who's going to show up next??

#only friends the series #ofts #thai bl #bl series #only friends meta #Ben watches

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latriii · 10 months

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10 REASONS ✶ 김규빈 KIM GYUVIN

₊· ͟͟͞➳ MARKED CLUE 000 ✶ hanbin has a TWIN?

Nikes by Frank Ocean flowed into your ears as you walked to the front of the school gates.

It was technically your first day of junior year even though for everyone one else, it was the middle of the year. You weren’t excited, you were already late and you had just transferred from an all girls school to your twin brother, Hanbins’ school.

You tossed around the wallet you found on the ground earlier, you saw a fairly tall boy drop it. You didn’t feel like chasing after him, you assumed he would be a student from your school since he was going the same direction anyway.

“What’s your name?” A tall male says, you could tell he was some class president since he had a board with paper on it with lists of names of late students.

The boy who had dropped his wallet cleared his throat. “Kim Gyuvin.”

Bingo. Got his name. You were going to return his wallet after you both get through the gates.

“What class?”

“Class 1-4.”

“And you?” The ‘class president’ was now looking at you and so was Kim Gyuvin.

“Sung,” You pause. You didn’t want your parents being called because you were late, especially on your first day. “Sung Chaewon?” You lied.

“Okay. What class?”

“Class 1-3,” You proudly say. You glance over at Gyuvin, he was staring at you.

You mouth, “what?” while slightly moving your fist. He looked away instantly after that.

“Okay you guys may go in.” The class president says before bowing.

You both bow back and walk into the building side by side. You couldn’t help but notice Gyuvin staring at you again.

“Why do you keep staring at me,” you stopped walking, putting out your arm to stop the boy as well.

“Because you’re pretty and I’ve never seen you.”

You scoff before pulling out the wallet that belonged to him. “Don’t drop your wallet again. It might not end up with a person as kind as me.”

You walked off after that, leaving Gyuvin behind.

That’s when Gyuvin was determined to make you his.

“Oh my god Hanbin, like she was so pretty, I don’t even know how to explain this type of feeling.” Gyuvin was geeking over you to no other than your twin brother.

“Geez, she sounds like she isn’t real. What’s her name again?” Hanbin asks as he continues to play games on his phone.

“Sung Chaewon i’m pretty sure.” Gyuvin replies as he moved his chair closer to Hanbin. “Dude i’m serious, we should go search for her.”

“Only if Matthew, Ricky, or Gunwook comes along.”

And with that, Gyuvin quickly turned to Gunwook who was peacefully sleeping on his desk.

“Gunwook.” No response.

“Gunwook?” No response once again.

Gyuvin internally groans before shaking the boys desk with so much force that he instantly woke up. “DUDE.”

Gyuvin quickly grabbed Hanbin and Gunwook’s arms and led the way to class 1-3. “Trust me guys, your eyes will be satisfied. I’m not kidding.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say.” Hanbin replies while Gunwook looks over at him confused, he had no idea what they were talking about since no one even filled him in.

But Gyuvin was so into you that he was more than happy enough to fill Gunwook in.

The three boys bursted into class 1-3 and found you chatting along with zhanghao. One of their buddies.

“IT’S HER.” Gyuvin shouted and pointed directly at you. Everyone was staring at him due to how loud he was.

Hanbin looks over to who he was pointing at before shaking his head and covering his face. “Gyuvin-“

“Isn’t she so pretty.” Gyuvin whispered loud enough for the two boys to hear.

“Hanbin? Gunwook?” You raise your brow before getting up from your seat to walk over to them.

“Noona?” Gunwook replies.

“Noona? Do you know her?” Gyuvin asks before turning to you, you were slowly making your way to them.

“That’s Yn noona, who the fuck is Chaewon?” Gunwook laughed out loud before turning to hanbin and laughed even harder.

“And she’s Hanbin’s twin sister.” Gunwook added.

“Hanbin has a TWIN?”

m.list — PREVIOUS | NEXT

₊· ͟͟͞➳ 10 reasons to get him to hate her, 10 reasons to get her to love him. You’ve always known Kim Gyuvin had a crush on you, it was a known fact throughout the school due to his outgoing personality. Once senior year hit, you realized how much Gyuvin was starting to ruin your chances with other guys so you decided to make a list on ways to make him hate you while Gyuvin did the complete opposite.

wc 0.6k (687)

latrii’s note — CHAPTER ONE IS NEXT!!! hope u guys enjoyed the prologue of this smau..

audience (taglist) @tzyuki @avocarua @wvnkoi @annoyingbitch83 @lovefooi @yswon @sieuneo @seosracha @str0l0gy @imhuh @tocupid @igotkpoops @sonjuyeonnie @sirenologies @wonqr @aernx @wonluvrbot @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @mimi1xx @seungminiesgf @daydreamer5006 @jiaant11 @i-yeseo @redm4ri @wtfhyuck @baekhyunstruly @strwberrydinosaur @xiaoderrrr @luvlee1313 @ensrfm @yenqa @enhapocketz @flwoie @hajimelvr @tmrx2gther @hexoolio @numberonemilkshakeland

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comphy-and-cozy · 9 months

Note

🦋 19 with Andrei!!

this one was so fun, thank you!

celebrate 1K with me

Prompt: #19 "It's called being soulmates bitch."

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: too much fluff (jk the limit does not exist).

When Andrei proposed, your life turned from a dream into a fairytale. You’d found your Prince Charming, and now you were lucky enough to spend the rest of your life with him.

The wedding planning was, naturally, a little chaotic and stressful, but you were having fun doing it with him by your side. He was patient, understanding, offering his opinions when you asked; otherwise, he just wanted you to have the perfect day, whatever that meant.

Your shower was scheduled at the sweet spot just before pre-season began to ramp up but when most everyone was trickling back into Raleigh to gear up for training. The venue was beautiful, and your best friend and the other wives had done an incredible job planning and decorating for the Love is Sweet theme.

Andrei insisted on being there, adamant that he should be there to thank everyone for supporting you and for the gifts they were giving the both of you. Fortunately—unfortunately?—he’d also brought along a rowdy group of hockey players, fresh off the golf course next door.

“When are the games? We were promised there’d be games.” Martinook’s boisterous voice sounded from the back of the room, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Andrei shook his head at him, not wanting to disrupt the pleasant brunch.

The ever-experienced Heather Staal shot up, graciously saying, “You’re in luck, Marty, because we are about to start some games right now!”

She explained the rules to the games on the tables—the standard bridal shower games: a bridal bingo and a wedding word scramble. The boys were surprisingly invested despite the childish nature of the games, hooting and hollering when they’d sort out a word or check an item off their bingo board.

Once the games were wrapped up and prizes awarded—Seth was now the proud owner of a brand new ‘Ballet Slippers’ bottle of Essie nail polish—Heather stood up to explain the final game.

“We’ll need both our bride and groom up here for this one,” she said. “I’m going to read off a few statements, and each of you will raise the shoe of the person the statement applies to. You’ll need to each swap one shoe so you have one of his and hers. The goal is to answer them all the same, but we’ll leave some room for a healthy debate if you two answer differently.”

Heather ushers both of you into two chairs arranged at the front of the room, your backs to each other. You exchange shoes, and he turns to whisper lowly to you, “Game on, dorogoy.”

“Alright, first question,” Heather says. “Who said I love you first?”

A smile comes to your face, mind flitting back to the memory in question. Your left hand rises, raising his shoe in the air. The room claps, reacting to you and Andrei both answering the question the same.

The questions continue: who is the better cook?, who is most romantic?, who apologizes first after a fight?, who is more stubborn?, who brought up marriage first?

Based on the reactions from the guests, you and Andrei are doing well—so well, in fact, that you’ve yet to answer a question differently.

“Last question, you two,” Heather’s voice says. “Let’s see if you can go 10 for 10.”

The last question—who fell in love first?—brings another smile to your face as you reflect back on the progression of your relationship. Truly, it felt like you and Andrei were written in the stars, meant to find each other. Once you met him, it was all too easy to fall in love; it was something you did almost unconsciously, just like breathing.

After another moment of reflection, you raise both shoes in the air, unable to decide on one or the other. The room once again bursts into cheers, and you turn around to find that Andrei, too, has raised both shoes in the air.

“Very impressive,” Heather applauds. “I don’t know what else to call it.”

“It’s called being soulmates, bitch!” Andrei exclaims with a grin.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov blurb #andrei svechnikov imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #c's 1k celly #anon asks

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 6 months

Text

Fight Me, Love Me, Save Me Pt. 2

This will fill the Broken Promises square on my @jacklesversebingo card.

Summary: A series in three parts exploring Y/N's and Dean's relationship from bickering children, to love and broken promises, to a plea for salvation.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Some light smut. Mostly just making out. Kissing, fondling, etc. Some angst, lots of fighting, cause it's them. Also brief scene involving threatening behavior from a creep. Nothing explicit.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 4,398

A/N: So this series will fill the last three squares on my bingo card. This part covers "It's Mine, and you can't have it." Part two will cover Broken Promises, (Nov 12) and part three will be for the Isolated/Trapped square. (Nov 19)

I hope you enjoy!! If you do, please remember to like, reblog and/or comment. Means the world to us writers! ❤️

Read Part 1 Here

The dividers included here were created by @talesmaniac89

The first year of dating for Dean and Y/N was a rollercoaster. For the first month or so, they tiptoed around each other. They knew their relationship had obviously changed but they weren’t sure about the parameters of what it was now. So, they were both extra polite to each other, terrified that they were gonna ruin this new thing, and possibly everything that came before it. Y/N didn’t want to finally realize Dean was her best friend one day, only to lose him completely the next.

So they circled around each other, sniffing at the air for warning signs. Their first fight came about a month and a half in.

They were living in Omaha, Nebraska for the time being. It was fairly centralized and their dads were using it as a bit of a home base for a while. Y/N was hoping she’d be lucky and they’d stay until she graduated so she wouldn’t have to change schools one more time.

They were renting an apartment together, and it was a nice change from motels and life on the road, but the apartment was tiny. It was only a one bedroom, and they’d turned that bedroom into a kind of weapons/training room. So they all slept in cots on the floor in the living room. It wasn’t ideal, but it still felt more like a home than a motel did.

One evening, Y/N was studying late at the library, determined to graduate on time and with a good GPA, regardless of her constantly revolving education. So, she’d deserted the noisy apartment and headed for some peace and quiet. John and her dad had been arguing about an old hunt, and Sam and Dean had discovered a bunch of old board games, deserted in the hallway closet. They’d found Jenga and had started out playing the game as it was intended to be played, which was loud enough. But it quickly devolved into them simply smashing down everything the other one built and then fighting about it.

She’d called out her intention to go to the library a few blocks down, and had been greeted by four male grunts in response.

Sometimes being the only female of the group was frustrating.

After a couple of hours at the library, Y/N was satisfied she had a handle on her history essay, and packed up to leave. As she put her things into her backpack, she noticed an older guy, maybe in his early fifties, in a hoodie and heavy canvas jacket watching her. It was slightly unnerving, but she just added him to the list of pervy dudes she’d encountered in her life, and left the library.

As she walked outside she saw that it had begun snowing, and it was much darker than she’d expected; she still wasn’t used to the darker days of early winter. As she walked, she pulled her thin, inadequate jacket tighter, and crossed her arms. There was something a little eerie, about the gray-black sky and the snow-muffled sounds around her.

She picked up her pace.

When she was about a block away from home, she heard the snow crunch behind her and suddenly the pervy guy was standing beside her. She jumped and yelped and the guy just laughed.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, honey. You should be careful wandering off places on your own though.” He grinned yellow teeth at her. “Someone as pretty as you could give folks ideas.”

Her fear of this man angered her and her ornery nature spoke before she could think better of it. “Oh really,” she scoffed, “and just what would those ‘folks’ be thinking?”

He didn’t like her attitude, and he scowled. His voice was low and definitely threatening as he leaned closer to her, invading her personal space and making her curl her lip in disgust.

“They could be thinking you were out here alone, lookin’ for trouble. Maybe hintin’ to folks you’re after a good time.”

Y/N felt her heart start to race as the silence and alone-ness of her situation hit her and she realized just how vulnerable she was. She started running through all of her training, just where to kick, just what vulnerable spots to target.

But thankfully, after one more lingering scan of her body, the man decided to move on, leaving her shivering, but not even noticing the cold anymore.

She double-timed it back to the apartment and ran through the door, locking it quickly behind herself. She jumped when Dean spoke.

“There you are.” He said as he approached. When she jumped and spun to face him, he held his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Whoa, easy there sweetheart.”

He saw her fear and quickly closed the distance between them, grabbing hold of her upper arms. “What happened?”

Y/N shook her head, feeling silly now for letting one old creepy guy scare her so badly. “No, nothing.” She said, looking around at the empty room. “Where is everyone else?”

Dean waved a hand dismissively. “They just left on a burger run. But it’s clearly not nothing. You flew in here like a bat outta hell, and you’re terrified.” He said with a frown.

Y/N stepped out his hands and shook her head again. “Seriously, it’s fine.” When Dean just folded his arms and continued to stare at her, she shrugged. “Look, it wasn’t anything, okay? Just - a creepy guy got a little close and gave me the jeebs, okay?”

Predictably Dean’s jaw tensed and he immediately reached for his jacket. “What does he look like?” He said as he shrugged it on. Y/N marched up to him and yanked the jacket back down his arms.

“You are not going out there after him.” Dean wrestled his jacket away from her and started putting it back on. “Dean, listen to me. What the hell is the plan here? Even if you could find him, which you won’t, what are you going to say to him?”

Dean scowled down at her. “I’m not gonna SAY anything. I think a bloody nose will speak volumes.”

Y/N rushed to stand between him and the door. “Don’t be ridiculous. He didn’t do anything to me.”

Dean scoffed. “You came in here terrified, Y/N. Now that doesn’t happen because of nothing.”

Y/N shook her head. “Look, it was just stupid of me okay? I panicked. He was just being gross, and he said that…” She waved away the memory of his predatory look. “I overreacted.”

Dean’s voice was dark and deadly. “Bullshit. You don’t overreact about stuff like this. This guy was obviously trash.” When Y/N shrugged her acquiescence, Dean sighed and then frowned at her again. “What the hell were you doing walking around in the dark, alone, anyway? What were you thinking? You should’ve called me to come pick you up.”

Y/N felt her hackles rise at his scolding tone. “I didn’t need you to pick me up, it’s like four blocks away.”

“Well, obviously you did, because some creep came after you.”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “And that’s my fault now?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying it’s your fault the guy’s a creep, but you should’ve known better than to walk home alone in the dark.”

“Screw you, Winchester!” Y/N exploded, all her pent up fear and adrenaline rushing forth. “I should be able to walk four fucking blocks without some disgusting mouth breather thinking he can come after me, thinking he has the right to…to…and then to tell me ‘people were gonna get ideas’ about me? Is that what this is, Dean? Does me having the audacity to walk four blocks without a goddamn escort make you believe I’m game for anything? That it must mean I wanna be thrown down for a roll in the snow?”

She was breathing hard, her cheeks flushed. Tears started to fall and she dashed them away instantly. Nothing frustrated her more than the fact that anger and fury made her cry.

Dean was staring at her, looking a little shell-shocked. She stomped past him and slammed herself into the bathroom. She didn’t come out until she heard everyone else get back. She and Dean didn’t talk over supper; if anyone noticed their silence, they never mentioned it.

Hours later Y/N was laying in the dark listening to the men around her snoring and she sighed and stood up, walking carefully through the narrow path of cots. She threw on her jacket and shoes and stepped outside. She needed fresh air.

She wasn’t outside very long when Dean stepped outside to join her. He didn’t say anything, just breathed into his hands in an attempt to warm them up.

Y/N shot a look his way. “You out here to make sure I have a suitable chaperone?”

Dean sighed and then reached for her hand; she let him take it. He nodded his head sideways. “Come on, let’s warm up.” He tugged her towards the Impala and she followed.

Dean slipped into the front seat to turn on the car, running the heater and putting the radio on low, but then he climbed into the back seat, beckoning Y/N to join him. She slid into the seat, but sat apart from him, slightly rigid. She felt awkward and unsure. They’d fought - what happened now?

Dean was silent for a while too, until he finally let out a little puff of air and a laugh, shaking his head.

Y/N looked at him warily. “What’s so funny?”

Dean shrugged, and shot her a heart melting smile. “I’ve never apologized to you after fighting with you, I kind of don’t know how. In the past we never apologized for pissing each other off, we just scowled at each other for a few hours and then got burgers.”

Y/N couldn’t help a small smile. “I mean, I could eat.”

Dean laughed again, and pulled her close to him as the tension between them dissolved away. “I really am sorry though, sweetheart. I never meant to make it seem like I thought it was your fault some jackass acted like a pig towards you. I just…” He hesitated before continuing. “Well, I panicked a bit at the idea of you being alone and vulnerable. But, you’re right, doesn’t mean you need a bodyguard. Hell, I know you could have kicked his ass.”

Y/N smiled up at him, but her voice was a little shaky. “Maybe, but you’re right too. In that moment I felt really vulnerable. In spite of all my training, in spite of everything, he really scared me.” She snuggled herself deeper into Dean’s side and he held her tighter. “And that made me really angry, which I sort of took out on you. Sorry.”

Dean shrugged, jostling her slightly. “Nah, I deserved it.”

She climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his warm chest. They stayed like that for a long time, just savoring the happiness of making it through their first fight intact. They didn’t realize (but probably should have) that it was going to be the first fight of many.

Both Y/N and Dean were incredibly stubborn, with quick tempers, and strong emotions. That often led to arguments, which sometimes led to all out fights.

One of the things they fought about was what Y/N was going to do after she graduated. She was up in the air about her next move, and Dean was horrified by the idea of her living across the country, and going about her life every day without him, and far worse was the idea of him having to live every day without her. He tried to get that across to her but it never came out right, and she always accused him of trying to tell her what to do with her life, trying to hold her down.

They had a few knock down, drag out fights over that subject, before Y/N made the decision to wait on college at least for now. She wasn’t really sure what she wanted to do with her life anyway, so for now at least, she was a hunter. But she wasn't sure if that was what she wanted forever. Their fathers made it seem as though that was their only choice, and she knew Dean believed that, but she and Sam weren't so sure.

For the time being though, she was satisfied to keep traveling and hunting, spending all her free time with Dean, fighting and making up.

The making up was worth the fights.

For the most part, Sam and their dads stayed clear of them when they were in battle mode. They’d all been thrown for a loop when they found out Dean and Y/N were dating. When they told their dads, at first the two men weren’t thrilled. But eventually they settled for telling them to just make sure not to let it affect the team.

But poor Sam on the other hand, found out about them in a much more visceral way - by walking in on them, locked in a heated embrace, in the motel room one day, only a few days after they started dating.

"What the hell?" Sam exclaimed loudly as Dean and Y/N leapt apart. Sam's face wore a look of deep disgust.

Dean grinned and shrugged, pulling a blushing Y/N back into his arms.

"Sorry, little brother, but it's true. Y/N couldn't resist me any longer."

Sam made a retching noise, and Y/N elbowed Dean in the ribs. "Sorry if it's weird, Sam, we probably should have told you."

Sam's expression was still disbelieving and slightly horrified but he shrugged slowly.

"Whatever. Just…" He held up a hand and his voice was pleading. "Never make out around me. Please! And for God's sake, learn to lock a door."

"What good would that do?" Dean called after him as he walked away. "You have a key!"

***

They celebrated their one year anniversary the fall after Y/N graduated. Dean took her out to a nice dinner. He had to wear a jacket and tie, and he fidgeted in it all evening, but he wanted to spoil Y/N a bit, so he just dealt with it.

After dinner though, he chucked his suit jacket in the backseat, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves before climbing behind the wheel and taking them for a long drive. They listened to music and Y/N even forced Dean to sit through a few of the sappy love songs she’d put together on a mixed tape. He scowled the whole time, but he held her hand and pulled her closer to him on the seat.

Finally, not long before midnight, he pulled down a deserted road and then off the road into an abandoned field. He put the car in park and cut the engine, leaving the radio playing softly in the background.

Y/N shot him a knowing smile and her voice was coy when she spoke. “And what, pray tell, are we doing here?”

Dean shrugged and put on an innocent face. “Oh, I don’t know. I was thinking maybe we could, uh…play some games…twenty questions? I spy?”

Y/N stifled her laugh to nod solemnly. “Right. Okay, I’ll start. I spy…a big fat liar.”

Dean grabbed his chest as though mortally wounded. “Ugh! I spy my very injured heart.”

Y/N laughed softly. “That’s really not the way you play the game.”

Dean dropped his hands from his broken heart and turned towards her. “No? K, then twenty questions.” He picked up her hand and stroked his thumb across her knuckles. His emerald green gaze bore into hers and she felt butterflies start fluttering in her lower belly.

His voice was low, and rich, and smooth as he asked, “What am I thinking about right now?”

Y/N felt her cheeks flame as she read his intentions, plain as day, in the heated look that spread across his face.

She laughed breathlessly and corrected him. “That’s not how you play that game either. You’re supposed to pick a person, place or thing, and then I have to guess it.”

Dean nodded. “Ah, I see.” He responded, as though this was all new information. “Okay, then I pick person. Guess WHO I'm thinking about right now.”

Y/N bit her lip and closed an eye as though she was thinking hard. “Hmm…is she…bigger than a breadbox?” She asked and grinned.

“Barely.” Dean answered with a chuckle, just before he lifted her easily into his lap, making her gasp in surprise.

She settled herself on his thighs, wiggling against him and eliciting a groan from Dean. She knew the cause of it and grinned devilishly. She asked her next question as she played with his tie. “Do I know her?”

“Hmph.” Dean grunted. “The answer to that is very philosophical.”

Y/N looked up at him through her lashes. “It has to be yes or no answers.”

“20 Questions is no fun. Let's go back to I Spy.” Dean said as he began trailing his thumb across Y/N's bottom lip. “I spy, a pair of lips I really wanna kiss.”

He brushed his lips across hers like a breath. She sighed and chuckled. “You really suck at these games.” Her gaze was mischievous as Dean looked into her eyes.

He shrugged and plunged his hand into her hair. “Fine, I give up. I lose.” He said before covering her mouth with his, sucking the breath from her body.

He pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. “Wow.” Y/N said breathlessly. “You letting me win, that's a first.”

Dean grinned. “Well, I think we both win, actually.” His grin faded into something softer, and he shifted away from her and lowered his thick lashes, hiding his bright green orbs from view

“And I think maybe…this might be a night to talk about…firsts.”

They were both silent a moment before Dean looked back at her. His gaze was earnest and he was quick to reassure her.

“I'm not saying we have to do anything or…anything. Just…we should probably talk about it.” He bit his lip and shot her a worried look. “I mean, dontcha think?”

Y/N thought of how far they'd gone recently, spurned on by incredible heat and passion, and an endless need to get closer, ever closer to each other. But they always stopped themselves, pulling away from each other with extreme difficulty.

She nodded at Dean; yes, they should definitely talk about it.

Yet both of them stayed quiet. Finally Y/N just reached up and kissed him again, pushing her fingers through his short hair to grasp the back of his head and press him tighter against her.

He licked her lips open and she whimpered slightly. They traded breaths, and tasted each other thoroughly. Dean's hand slid up from her waist to slide under her blouse and trace along the top of her bra. He moved his mouth down the column of her throat and Y/N leaned back to give him easier access.

When she did so, however, her back bumped into the horn, making them both jump and then start laughing. Y/N buried her face in Dean's neck and tried to catch her breath.

Dean pulled her hand up and kissed her palm. “Maybe we should continue this conversation in the back seat?”

Y/N nodded shyly.

She slid off of his lap and then followed him outside as he opened the back door. He went to the trunk and before they got in, he laid down a soft wool blanket that's smelled just a bit like metal and car oil.

Dean scooted all the way over to lean against the passenger side door, pulling Y/N back into his lap.

After a minute he cleared his throat. “K, before we go get distracted again, we're gonna talk, yeah?”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, talk.” There was a beat pause. “I think we should have sex.”

Dean's eyes widened at the blunt suggestion. “Like…now?” He asked, his words a little strangled.

Y/N laughed. “Yes, now. Given how rarely we're alone together, if we don't do it now, we may have to wait another entire year.”

Dean chuckled but looked hesitant. “Y/N I don't want you to feel like we're on some kind of schedule here. I mean -”

Y/N interrupted him. “No, Dean. I just mean, I don't wanna…I mean, I can't wait anymore.”

She reached up and ran her hand down his cheek. “I want you, and I’m…I'm ready.”

Dean clasped her hand on his cheek and pulled her fingers to his lips, kissing each tip. “Me too, sweetheart. Been ready for a long time in fact.”

Y/N smiled shyly and stretched up to kiss the corner of his jaw, cut square and as sharp as glass. Dean curled in on her, unbuttoning the first few buttons on her blouse and pushing it off her shoulder so he could kiss her there. His teeth scraped delicately across her skin.

Y/N gasped and shuddered. Dean pulled back to look down at her. He brushed the wispy tendrils of hair off her face as he studied her flushed cheeks and shallow breathing.

When she opened her eyes and looked up at him, he smiled at her and spoke, slightly hesitant.

“Are you scared?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, not scared. Just,” she ducked her head, “just nervous I guess.” She met his gaze again. “It's a big deal, you know?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.”

Y/N bit her lip before licking them. “You've…um…you've done it. Before. Right?”

Dean looked slightly uncomfortable, but nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I have.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, then. “How many girls?”

Dean scowled and cleared his throat. “Y/N let's…I don't wanna talk about this. We don't have to talk about this.”

Y/N shifted slightly in his lap again and Dean hissed and clenched his jaw against the movement as she responded. “Come on. You were there in the same health class as me, listening to Coach Ginter tell us we need to know about our partner's sexual history.”

“Y/N.”

“Come on.” She urged him. “I wanna know. It's the responsible thing to do. You know about all zero of my former partners."

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes slightly. “Okay, if I tell you, you're not gonna freak out?”

“No, of course not.”

“Promise?”

It was Y/N's turn for an eye roll. “Yes, I promise.”

Dean breathed out through his nose and was quiet a moment. “Five.”

Y/N's eyes widened. “You've had sex five times?”

Dean shook his head. “No, five girls. I've had sex lots of times.”

He seemed to catch his mistake and and shook his head dismissively. “But they don't matter.”

But Y/N wasn't listening. “Who were they?”

Dean sat up straight. “Uh uh. We're not doing that.”

Y/N raised her voice slightly and slid off Dean's lap to sit on the seat. “Doing what? This is the proper thing to do. Coach Ginter said that we-”

“Jesus Christ!”Dean barked out and then let out a thoroughly exasperated laugh. “Would you stop bringing up the image of Coach Ginter is his fucking short shorts and sweat-stained white t-shirts. It's really killing the vibe here.”

Y/N wasn't laughing. “The only thing killing the vibe is the fact that you won't tell me who the scores of women were that you slept with.”

Dean frowned. “Not scores. Five.” He held up a hand full of fingers. “Five.”

“Okay, then who were they?”

Dean dropped his head into his hand. “Y/N!” He growled.

“Just tell me.” Y/N said, in what was clearly a forced calm. “It's no big deal, I'm just curious.”

Dean sighed deeply before looking back at her. “You have to promise, swear!” He said with a raised finger. “That you're not gonna get mad.”

Y/N was shaking her head before he finished. “Of course not.”

“Say ‘I promise’.”

“I promise.” Y/N said, hand over heart.

After a minute Dean took a deep breath. “Tracey Reeves. She was my first.”

The name rang a bell, and Y/N squinted, searching her memory, and then it dawned on her and her face became slack with shock, quickly followed by outrage.

“Tracey REEVES!! You mean that sadistic bitch who tortured me at the start of our freshman year?”

Dean scoffed. “Come on! It was initiation! All the seniors were torturing freshman! I got tortured too! It was just hazing. I mean, it wasn't that bad, for god's sake it was a fucking school event. The principal was there!"

Y/N pouted. “Yeah well, your little sweetie pie dumped that jar of mayonnaise on my head with just a bit too much glee.”

Dean rolled his eyes and then Y/N held a hand up. “Wait, wait. We left there before Halloween. So…” Her eyes got big. “You lost your virginity when you were fourteen?” Her voice was all disbelief.

Dean's jaw clenched. “Is this judgment?”

Y/N looked away and shook her head. “Who else?”

Dean growled again. “Ugh! Y/N, come on!”

“Who?!”

“You don't know three of them, k? You never met them.”

Y/N did quick math. “And the fifth one? Who was she?”

Dean stared at her, and Y/N could tell he was frustrated beyond belief, but her stubbornness wouldn't let her stop. She stared defiantly at him, waiting for him to answer.

He shook his head and spoke quietly. “You still promising to not get mad?” He said sarcastically.

“I'm not mad.” Y/N insisted.

Dean rolled his eyes and mumbled out his answer. “Sam's tutor, Casey.”

Y/N felt her heart stop. “She's…she was tutoring Sam when we got together.”

Dean stepped on the end of her sentence. “It was before that. Before we got together.”

Y/N squeezed her hands into balls with white knuckles. “How long before?”

“Who cares?” Dean shouted defensively. “The only thing that matters is the ‘before’ part!”

But Y/N was barely listening. She was doing more math. “She was only tutoring Sam for like a week before we started dating.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean mumbled, “You have the fucking memory of an elephant.”

When Y/N just kept staring at him he heaved a sigh and spoke angrily. “Fine, yes, it was three or four days before we got together.”

Y/N felt her heart begin to hurt. “You said, but you said you liked me then. You said, you’ve liked me since we were kids.”

“I did!” Dean said vehemently, and then amended his words. “I have! I do!”

“But that whole week leading up to us getting together, you said you knew I was jealous, you knew I was interested.”

“No, I said, I HOPED you might be interested. I didn't know anything for sure.”

“And you couldn't wait to find out?!” Y/N asked near tears. “You just slept with some other girl and then three days later started kissing me? What did Casey think about this? I mean she came over at least four or five more times after that. Did you, uh, decide to go for a second round just to say goodbye?”

Dean's face became immobile and expressionless but his eyes were hurt and hard. “If you actually think that, think I'd do that, what the fuck are you doing here with me? Why are you with me at all?”

“I don't know!” Y/N shouted, her temper exploding. “Maybe if I'd known I was dating some kind of man-whore I wouldn't be here!”

Her temper tried to blind her to the way Dean flinched at her words, but she saw it, and it sat heavy in her heart. But her chest was heaving and her eyes burned and she refused to apologize.

Dean didn't say anything. He just opened the door and walked out to get to the driver's seat. Y/N stayed in the back. He started up the car and drove them all the way home in silence.

The night that had started with so much promise and excitement, had been shattered; promises made and broken. But the broken promise of them - what they almost were - that was what cut Y/N the most.

This fight felt different. It felt final, dark. Jealousy and hurt feelings, anger and resentment festered between them.

For days that turned into weeks they avoided each other as much as possible. Dean was gone all the time, and it ripped Y/N's heart out to think of where he might be spending his time.

She wanted to say sorry, wanted the fight to just melt away between them as they always had before. They'd been so close to something permanent, something binding between them, and now it was ruptured, leaving a crater between them.

She didn't know how to cross it.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26 @slut-for-evans-stan

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla @stoneyggirl2

#dean x y/n #dean x reader #jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester series

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storiesofsvu2-0 · 1 year

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Alex Blake x reader Warnings: language, smut, teasing, masturbation, guided masturbation, sex toys, minor degradation, very brief choking. a/n: Covers a bingo square! and a req from @rustyzebra I’m gonna be posting from this blog either permanently or until the other one gets un-shadow banned. I don’t know why or how or how long that will take, my guess is that it’s got something to do with the community labels? That being said, this is under said label, so that this blog doesn’t get shadow banned. So make sure you have your settings set appropriate to see what you want and so you don’t miss any future stories. (Eta: apparently theres no winning. I post with a label, it wont show in the tags. I post without & risk getting shadowbanned. Hellsite.) Also if you see this and you’re writing for bingo, pls tag this account as the other one basically has no access anymore (hopefully temporarily).

Nobody was having a good time on this case and that was evident, everyone hyper focussed to make sure you could get the hell out of there and back home as fast as possible. The team had been back in DC less five hours when Hotch called to reroute everyone back to the jet, you’d only had time to toss laundry in and get ready for date night before it was time to grab you go bag. You changed on the jet, cursing yourself when you realized you’d forgotten to toss in what you called your work bra, at least your shirts were thick.

The grumpy moods continued as you deplaned in a small town in Texas, quickly jumping into the field to trace down a team of unsubs. You were in the field with Emily when you managed to apprehend the unsubs and when one of them jumped into lake with the hopes of getting away on the boat moored ten feet up you were the one that was a second faster. Your swimmer instincts taking over as you dove into the lake and caught up to them before they even realized you were in the water. Emily muttered something about owing you coffee for the next month and you made your way back to the local precinct, one unsub in tow. You’d left your vest on in an attempt to not get the chills on the way back, thankful that Emily had tuned on the heat in the SUV. Passing off the unsub to be processed the two of you crossed the building back to the meeting room you’d been using, joining JJ and Morgan.

“Woah, someone take a break for a swim?” Derek greeted with a tease and you shot him a glare, Emily answering for you.

“We’re lucky she did, unsubs in custody.”

“Our guy’s in the wind.” JJ replied with a sigh and the entire room felt the frustration sink in.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” You grumbled, half of your brain regretting diving into the lake, wondering if it had really been that worth it.

With a huff you ripped at the Velcro on your vest, pulling it off over your head to toss onto a spare chair. You could feel your clothes clinging to you, soaked with lake water, at the very least you were thankful you hadn’t been wearing jeans and that your make up was waterproof.

“So what’re we looking at?” You asked, crossing you arms over your chest and the conversation rerouted back to the case at hand. Everyone was more than eager to at least get back to the hotel for some rest and a solid lead would help that.

It was almost a full half hour later that Alex returned to the room from talking to a witness, Reid half a foot behind her. You had your back to the door as you updated the white board when Alex’s voice caught your attention and you capped the marker, turning around to them and Reid’s eyes widened, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Oh my god, y/n!” He was whipping off his FBI jacket instantly, moving to get it wrapped around you and at first you thought it was just because you were still drenched, but the smirk on Emily’s lips told you otherwise.

“What? I—” Glancing down you realized your misstep. Laundry day plus date night meant you were still in date night lingerie. Lingerie that was deep red, lacy, a hint of mesh that left very little to the imagination and thanks to your little dip earlier, completely visible to everyone in the room through your shirt. “Could’ve said something.” You scowled to the three who’d been there when you took off the vest, hands clutching at the jacket seams in an attempt to keep it closed.

“Didn’t wanna get in trouble for looking.” Derek muttered, his gaze on the file in front of him.

“Pretty sure I was with you when you bought that one.” Emily smirked in return and you rolled your eyes, glancing back to Alex.

Her head tilted, eyes flicking down you body, watching the way your shirt clung to your skin before she cocked a brow at you, her jaw hardening and you couldn’t help but gulp. While she always was a wonder with words, you were at the point in your relationship that you could communicate without them and she was making her point very clear right now. Alex could feel the arousal building deep within her already, annoyed that the case had taken away the opportunity to see you in whatever set matched the now very visible bra. Though, she wasn’t complaining about how erotic this was, on display for everyone to see. She felt the possessiveness surge through her, her eyes narrowing in your direction until you properly fixed the jacket so you were covered, you knew better, something like that was only for her to see.

You felt the heat creeping up the back of your neck, knowing exactly what Alex was thinking, that you were hers and only hers, even if the team didn’t know it. Daring to look her in the eye you felt your pulse quicken, knowing that she was thinking of all the dirty things she’d seen you do, all the dirty things she’d made you do and just how she was going to remind you who you belonged to later. You were aware that the conversation had picked back up in the conference room but there was no way you were hearing any of it, lost to the sinful imagination of one Alex Blake. Suddenly, Emily swatted at you with a folder and you were pulled out of your dirty thoughts, glancing toward her.

“What?”

“I said go back to the hotel. You jumped in a lake, you caught an unsub, I think you deserve a shower and a change of clothes, we won’t be much longer.”

“Yeah… thanks.” You nodded at her before crossing through the room and Alex’s eyes didn’t leave your body once, her lips pursed tight.

By the time you were warmed up, out of the shower and wrapped in a surprisingly fluffy robe, Alex was already back in the hotel room waiting for you. She stood from the bed when the bathroom door opened, a smirk on her lips as she sauntered through the room toward you. Her finger curled under your chin, tilting your eyes up to her.

“You pulled quite the little stunt today sweetheart. Wearing that kind of lingerie to work?”

“I didn’t have time to change.” You countered.

“You changed on the jet.”

“I forgot to pack another bra.”

“Sounds like someone’s making excuses.” She tutted, pinching at your chin, “were you feeling like a naughty slut today? Did you want the entire team to see what you were wearing under your shirt, because I’m starting to think that you did. Be a little show off, let them know how much of a bad girl you are?”

“No ma’am.” You murmured, “it was an accident.”

“Hmm.” She surveyed you for a moment, “I’m not sure I believe you. I do know how much you like to make it all about you, how much you love putting on a good show when you bounce on my cock. So how about you take off that robe, get on the bed and be a good girl and spread your legs.”

Your hands swiftly undid the belt of the robe, letting it fall open and Alex’s eyes dragged down your naked body, darkening as they went, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. When you dropped the robe to the floor her finger and thumb pinched at your chin, rewarding you with a kiss, her lips moving gracefully against your own before she nudged you toward the bed.

You dropped onto it, shuffling upwards until you were comfortable among the pillows, looking down to Alex who simply arched a brow in return as she slipped out of her blazer. Trying not to gulp, you spread your legs for her, opening yourself up to her burning gaze.

“How long were you in that room with your vest off? Hmm?”

“Not sure…” you could feel your breath picking up already with just her eyes on you, wondering exactly what she had planned. She frowned in your direction, hands moving down the center of her shirt as she undid the buttons, “maybe… half hour?”

“Well, then you’ve got half an hour to kill.” She shrugged, adding the folded shirt to the pile on the other bed, “better get yourself warmed up since you were in the mood to show off.”

It was only after a small nod from her, confirming that she was okay with you touching that your hand slid down your body slowly. You kept your eyes trained on Alex as she pulled a chair to the foot of the bed, pausing to strip out of her pants before she took a seat in it, her gaze landing between your legs.

“Timer doesn’t start until you do sweetheart.” She smirked and you let out a breath, your head falling back into the pillows.

Half an hour was going to be torture and you knew it, then again, that was the point wasn’t it? Your hand snuck between your legs, making sure they were nice and wide for Alex to see what you were doing. Your fingers brushed against your clit, slowly beginning to rub at it in small circles.

“That’s my good girl.” Alex cooed from the end of the bed, soft grin on her cheeks as her eyes darkened.

You took a deep breath, knowing that your time had just started, your fingers slipped down to your cunt, gathering some of your wetness and bringing it back up to your clit, continuing to rub at it slowly. Your breath hitched, your hips gently rocking toward the touch and you heard Alex chuckle. You continued on like that, wanting to drag it out as long as possible to kill the time until you uncontrollably moaned, your hips rocking up off the bed.

“I can see you glistening from here.” Alex mused, “why don’t you see how wet you really are? My dirty girl…”

“Please?” You whined, your eyes cracking open to look down at her with a pout on your lips and she laughed.

“Oh sweet girl, it’s only been four minutes.”

“But—”

“Ah!” She scolded, “did you want me to restart the timer?”

“No ma’am.” You pouted, your hands returning to your body.

One groped at your chest, pinching your nipple between your finger and thumb, repeating the action on both sides until both were hard peaks. Your other hand slunk between your legs again, heel of your hand brushing on your clit and you whined before slipping two fingers into your wet cunt.

“Oh god…” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s my girl.” She praised with a happy hum.

Your fingers began thrusting into your cunt, pulling out more wetness with each pump of your hand, slow and steady, ready to wait out the clock Alex had set. Your breathing picked up, little whines and whimpers leaving your lips as you felt the heat begin to build deep within your body. You shivered when the tips of your fingers briefly brushed across the sensitive spot of your walls, a moan leaving you and Alex hummed again.

“Why don’t you try that move again? I know how good it must feel.”

Knowing better than to defy Alex’s requests at this point your fingers sunk back in, curling right where you knew it would feel incredible and you let out a moan.

“Fuck…”

“There you go. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” You moaned, unable to control yourself as your fingers curled again, brushing against the spot and you pressed harder, your breath catching in your throat. Your hips rocked up off the bed and you could feel yourself getting wetter, juices starting to dribble out of you as you picked up the pace.

“You may come darling.” Alex purred, “but if you do that doesn’t mean you’re done, you still have seventeen minutes.”

“S..so good..” You moaned, fingers thrusting deeper into you with each flick of your wrist, you were so incredibly close, your pussy fluttering around your fingers. It was never going to be enough, you knew that, but at least for the time being you could sit on the edge of the peak, hoping that there was a chance you’d be able to fall over it. Your noises were getting louder, including the wet sounds coming from your pussy, juices coating your fingers and slipping down to your wrist. Your free hand moved back to your chest, pinching at your nipples again in hopes that it would help you see stars. At this point you were scarcely aware of the sound of movement from the foot of the bed until Alex let out a breathy moan and your eyes shot open.

She had her legs spread in the chair, her hand in her underwear as it moved lazily underneath the fabric, when your breath caught in your throat her eyes cracked open, a grin on her cheeks as she noticed you watching, your own hand stilled.

“What can I say? I like what I see.” She smirked, “and look at what you’re doing to me already?” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly and you could hear her wetness as she slipped a finger into her pussy.

“Fuck…”

“Keep going sweetheart.” She nodded at you, “how about you spread that pussy nice and open for me, let me see how gorgeous you are?”

“Yes ma’am.” Your fingers slid out, your palm rubbing at your cunt briefly as you ground down on it, letting out a small moan before it slid up, fingers framing your pussy lips and pulling them apart. Alex let out a hum of approval, her mouth watering at the way it was absolutely shimmering in the low light of the hotel room.

“So fucking gorgeous.” She groaned, “I’ll admit though, it does look prettier stuffed with my cock, don’t you think?”

“Yes!” You cried back in response and she chuckled.

“Shame. Your fingers will have to do. Twelve minutes left.”

You let out a whine but slipped your fingers back into your pulsing cunt, eyes scrunching shut as you began to fuck yourself again.

Alex sighed softly, the tips of her fingers grazing her g-spot right as you let out a moan and she pulled her fingers out, returning to lazily rubbing her clit while she watched the way your body trembled every so often. You were absolutely soaking, practically every thrust of your hand pulled a whimper from your mouth and if she wasn’t so heart set on punishing you she would’ve wanted to devour you in that moment. You always looked so fucking hot for her, but especially when you were fucking yourself, imagining that it was her fingers thrusting in and out of your drenched pussy. Her teeth sunk into her lip when her fingers pressed harder onto her clit and with a soft moan her fingers slipped back into her pussy.

“Are you close sweetheart?” She asked, her voice low and husky, words split by breathy sighs.

“Need more.” You whined in response and she chuckled darkly, the laugh morphing into a moan as her fingers curled inside her cunt.

“Just keep going.” She urged, feeling the heat building within her, she resisted the urge to let her eyes close, staying focussed on the movement between your legs instead, groaning at the sounds coming from you as you fucked yourself faster. The heel of her hand began to grind against her clit with each thrust of her fingers and she arched forward, her thighs tensing as she cried out, her orgasm hitting her.

The sound was almost enough to get you where you wanted… almost. Instead you were left letting out a frustrated whine, pulling your fingers from you with an annoyed huff.

“Please!”

“Please, what?” Alex asked, cocking a brow in your direction.

“Need more.” You grumbled and she glanced to the clock.

“Nine minutes left darling, then I’ll touch you.”

“What about a toy?” You pouted.

“I didn’t happen to bring one of those.” She shrugged, watching you carefully and she caught the way your eyes looked toward your go bag, lingering on it for a moment as you tugged your lip into your mouth. Her head tilted in curiosity and it was when she stood that your eyes darted back to her.

The blush crept up your cheeks as you watched her silently move through the room to the bag. She swiftly unzipped it, her hands sifting through its contents until she found what she was looking for, revealing the double sided dildo and she looked toward you with a brow raised.

“Really? You have the time to pack this, but not an appropriate bra?” Her voice hardened slightly, in a tone that you knew was practically a tease and you resisted covering your face with your hands. “I almost think I shouldn’t let you use it.”

“No! Please!” You cried out, tears of frustration pooling into your eyes, “I need it. Or you.” You pouted, and Alex’s face softened.

“Oh you sweet thing.” Grinning she approached the foot of the bed, “you’ve become so spoiled you can’t make yourself come anymore, is that it?” You nodded, your cheeks feeling hotter than any part of your body as you admitted it. You started to shift to close your legs, suddenly feeling very exposed but Alex’s free hand closed around your ankle.

“Ah.” She tutted, “absolutely none of that. You don’t get to act like an exhibitionist all day just to play shy now.” She dropped the toy on the bed beside your hand, “eight minutes left. You best make the most of it.”

“Thank you.” You murmured, your hand darting out for the toy, picking it up. You watched for a moment as Alex’s eyes darted from it to your lips and you smiled coyly at her.

Instead of instantly bringing it to your fluttering pussy, you brought the larger end of the toy to your lips, easily wrapping around it, moaning as you sunk it into your mouth. You sucked hard, tongue swirling around it’s girth until drool was practically leaking out of your lips and Alex’s breath was catching in her throat at the sight. Pulling it from your mouth with a pop you let out a gasp of breath, quickly moving the toy to your cunt.

“Seven…” Alex stated, her hands closed around your calves, spreading them as wide as she could on the bed, kneeling between them as she watched the way you slid the dildo into you with a satisfied moan.

You were finally stretched out, finally feeling Alex’s fingers on your skin and you almost felt like you could burst.

“Fuck…” You groaned, feeling your cunt pulse around the toy as you fucked it deeper into you, aching to hit your peak. Your head dropped back into the pillows as your eyes scrunched shut, your thighs slowly starting to shake with each push of the toy.

“So pretty when you fuck yourself darling. I should make you do this more often.” Alex cooed, her hands suddenly left your body but you were too far gone to care, not realizing she was ridding herself of her bra, beginning to cup at her chest. “be louder for me, how does that feel?”

“So good… fuck!” You panted, fire burning just under your skin, “but need more…”

“Dirty girl…” she chuckled, “what ever shall we do with you?” You felt her weight shift from the bed and your eyes cracked open, a frustrated whine escaping your lips once more as your hand nearly stilled between your legs, stalling your orgasm once more.

“Just wanna come…”

“I know sweet girl.” She squeezed at your leg before her hands slipped into the waist band of her panties and she pulled them down your leg, “but that toy has double uses… you’re going to come while riding my cock, understand?”

“Yes!” You practically shrieked, earning a laugh from Alex as she crawled over you.

You let out a very satisfied moan as she leant over you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, her tongue surging into your mouth to silence your noises. Her skin was hot on yours, rubbing against your aching nipples, her hands ghosting up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their paths. Her teeth sunk into your lip and you whimpered, your hips rocking up toward her, the toy brushed her pussy and she broke the kiss with a breathy gasp.

“Oh that does feel good.” She husked, smirking down at you before her lips attacked your neck, kissing at the supple skin before her teeth bit down hard and you gasped. “Need to leave a mark sweetheart. A nice big one if I have my way.” Her tongue swiped over your skin, “make sure the entire team knows that you really are a little dirty girl, that it’s not all for show. Because you’re not a tease, now are you?”

“N..no.” You moaned, your pussy clenching around the toy when her teeth sunk into your skin, her mouth sucking the crook of your neck and you could feel yourself building back toward your peak.

As if Alex could sense it, she bit your neck again, tongue darting out to soothe the burn when you hissed in pain, kissing the spot softly before her and snuck between your bodies to line the toy up with her cunt. She let out a low moan as she sunk down onto it, and you mewled when the base between the two sides bumped at your clit once she was fully seated. She firmly wrapped her arms around your waist, holding you tight to her and rolled over, pulling you on top of her. Alex kissed you, tongue swiping into your mouth once more before she pulled back, pushing at your shoulders with a wild gleam in her eye.

“Well, go ahead. Make yourself come all over my cock like the good dirty girl you are.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You braced your hands on her waist, raising your hips up to begin to bounce on her cock, breathless moans leaving your lips with each time your hips met hers, the toy pressing against your clit with each thrust. Alex’s hands slid up your thighs, her touch sending sparks flying through your body, she groped at your ass, squeezing you, urging you to ride her harder, faster, making the toy move within her more, the base rubbing her clit just as she wanted.

“Feels good,” she panted, “doesn’t it sweetheart?”

“S- soo good.” You whined back, “m’ so close…” With each pump of your hips her cock grazed right over the sensitive spot in your pussy, your walls pulsing around it, juices slicking it with wet. The coil in the pit of your stomach returned fire prickling under your skin and heat soared through you. “Oh god… oh god…”

“That’s it… come for me sweet girl.” Alex cooed, one of her hands slid up your body, fingers delicately wrapping around your neck, thumb nail pressing into the mark she’d left earlier and you gasped.

Your hips began to move more erratically as you chased your release, feeling yourself right on the brink. You were about to open your lips to beg, but Alex could always read you like a book, her free hand moving between your legs where she began to rub circles on your throbbing clit. Electricity shot through you and you cried out, your eyes scrunching shut as white took over your vision, your body trembled, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you finally hit your high. Your hands dug into Alex’s sides, nails scratching at her skin while you shuddered, your hips stilling when she finally let up on your clit.

“Good girl.” She purred, letting go of your throat, her hands rubbing up and down your sides, guiding you to gently drop over her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. “Always so gorgeous.” She pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, fingers tracing patterns on your back while you slowly came back to earth to catch your breath. “You feel better now sweetheart?”

“Yes.” You murmured, lips brushing against her skin and she gently hoisted you off her, tossing the toy to the bedside table to be dealt with later.

“You think you’ve learnt your lesson? No more showing off what’s mine to everyone else, right?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded and Alex smiled.

“Good.”

She couldn’t help but smirk at the already purpling mark in the crook of your neck, it was high enough she knew you wouldn’t be able to cover it tomorrow. Even if you got slightly embarrassed, there would be no mistaking by anyone on the team, you were very much spoken for.

_____________

@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @leelizzzle @evilregal2002 2 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @allyofcl @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @1974-sp @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me

#criminal minds #alex blake #alex blake x reader #alex blake smut #k2023bdaybingo

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 months

Text

Her Alpha

AN: It’s Alpha Steve time!It feels good to be updating all my series 😀 This fits in between Surprise, Surprise and Birthday Gifts

@noseyrosey1597 asked: I’m obsessed with Alpha nomad Steve and his omega. Could you possibly do a one shot where she meets the team? Maybe she doesn’t like Tony

Endless thanks to my beta, @endlesstwanted. Likes are loved, reblogs are golden. Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

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@steverogersbingo - A1 - Alpha Steve

Master list | SRB Master list | Series Master list

Summary: It’s not even been 24 hours since you and Steve were reunited, but it’s the start of the next chapter - you’re moving in with him at the Avengers Compound, which also means it’s time to meet the team. You’ve just got to hope you can keep your pregnancy hormones under control.

Relationship: Alpha Steve x Pregnant Omega Reader

Word count: 2.8k

CW: A/B/O, Sexual content (P in V sex, pregnancy sex, knotting), Steve’s dirty talk, smidge Angst, hormonal and aggressive Omega Reader, Pet names (Omega, sweetheart, Mama).

You woke up, an almost long forgotten feeling of contentment suffusing you, and turned within the pair of thick arms that held you. With a sigh you looked up into the face of Steve, your Alpha. You lifted your hand and smoothed a lock of his hair back from his forehead, marvelling at the sheer beauty of him. It was almost criminal, the way his long eyelashes kissed his freckled skin. A happy chirp made its way out of your throat and Steve stirred, pulling you tighter to his body.

If it weren’t for the ache on your neck, or the echoing one between your legs, you’d still believe this was a dream. Five months had gone without you seeing each other, longer than anytime before, but now the sporadic visits were finally over. The Accords were rescinded, Steve was no longer a criminal on the run and you could truly be together. Today Steve would be taking you to where he lived, the Avengers Compound in upstate New York, and you wouldn’t have to put up with this shitty, damp apartment anymore. You’d have a nice place to live, access to a state of the art medical facility for when your pup (or pups) came, and you’d get to meet all of Steve’s friends. What a difference a day made.

You sighed again and tilted your head to press your lips against Steve’s. His eyes were still closed, but you knew he wasn’t fully asleep because he deepened the kiss almost immediately and a muscular thigh, covered in coarse hair, pushed its way between your legs. You rocked against it as he kissed you, despite the fact that it increased the ache that was there. You welcomed the mild discomfort because it meant he was really here with you.

“Morning, ‘Mega,” Steve mumbled against your lips. He rolled onto his back and pulled you with him so you were straddling his hips, his morning wood slotting against your sex. Your fingers threaded into the slightly too long hair at the nap of his neck and he let out a pleasured growl.

“Morning, Alpha,” you purred as you lightly ground down onto him. You were wet already, a combination of being back in your Alpha’s arms along with being in your second trimester - your libido had picked up and Steve couldn’t have returned at a better time.

“Ready to leave this all behind?” he asked as his large hands landed on your hips and helped you move back and forth over his length, covering it in your arousal.

“Mmm-hmm,” you confirmed. “Although I’m not ready to leave this bed yet. There’s something I wanna do first.” You lifted your body, took Steve in hand and then sunk back down, a feeling of bliss suffusing your whole being. You were glad that it hadn’t been that long since he was last inside you so that you didn’t need to go through any arduous prep.

“Oh, sweetheart. Fuck.” You very rarely took the lead like this - you blamed your hormones - and Steve’s eyes rolled back in his head. “That’s it, Mama. Ride me. Take what you need. Look so god-damn sexy, carrying my pups. If I could I fuck some more into you. Jeez.”

The power trip was making you dizzy with arousal. You wanted him to lose his mind due to his want and desire for you. He was your Alpha - your mate. You were pregnant with his pups, and now you were going to start the rest of your life together this very day.

As you rocked atop him, Steve ran a hand up your body to cup one of your breasts. His thumb flicked over your engorged nipple and you gasped at the sensation as your body clenched around his length. Your whole body was much more sensitive now.

“Steve,” you keened, and sped up your movements. “So close, Alpha. Make me come, please!” You knew he was close as well because you could feel his swelling knot teasing your entrance.

“Your wish is my command, Omega.” His other hand dropped to your clit and he drew matching circles over it, both hands working in tandem on different parts of your body to pull you over the edge. You moaned loudly as the pleasure hit, rocking back and forth on his cock as your pussy spasmed. A second dart of pleasure hit you as Steve’s knot popped and you felt his cum fill you up. Steve’s noises of ecstacy merged with yours as your movements slowed and then finally stilled. You collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, your bodies still joined together.

“We don’t need to pack up until this afternoon, do we?” you asked. Steve chuckled, his body jiggling yours as he did.

“You don’t need to do anything, Omega. I can sort it out while you’re having a nap.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Oh, good,” you replied and then let out a yawn. “I find myself worn out for some reason.”

“I wonder why,” Steve replied with a snort. “Now relax. Let your Alpha deal with all the mundane stuff.

As the car made its way up the long drive leading to the large, white compound, you felt your stomach flutter in anticipation. You’d never met the other Avengers, having only encountered Steve by chance just before he went on the run. It had been like one of those moments from an old movie, where your eyes had met across a crowded room. You’d approached each other warily, sensing a connection but being sensibly cautious. Then you’d each caught the scent of the other, and that had been it. It was a miracle you hadn’t just started fucking in the middle of the coffeeshop, the way your body had reacted - your inner Omega would have done so, happily. Luckily, Steve was a little bit more controlled and managed to at least wait until you’d had one dinner together before agreeing to come back to your apartment with you.

That had been just over two years ago, and given how he’d mated you and then had to disappear, only returning for your heat or his rut, your relationship could be termed a whirlwind. Now you were going to meet his friends - his family - and announce that you were going to be having his pups in a matter of months. Your hands twisted in the fabric of your coat, and you pulled your lower lip between your teeth to chew on it.

Picking up on your anxiety, Steve pulled you tighter into his embrace and used his thumb to release your lip from its torture.

“They’re gonna love you, Omega. I promise.” His deep voice soothed you and you rested your head on his chest.

“You’re sure?” you asked quietly.

“How could they not? You’re so sweet and kind. And when they know you’re carrying my pups they’re gonna be thrilled. Happy likes you already, so you have nothing to worry about.”

You flicked your eyes up to the driver’s mirror, catching the glance of the tall, broad and cheerful Beta who’d turned up to whisk you and Steve back to the compound. Apparently he was Tony Stark's Head of Security and you’d been put straight at ease when he’d greeted you with a genuine smile and a ‘Nice to meet you, ma’am.’ You hoped the rest of the introductions would go as smoothly.

The car came to a halt, and you looked out of the tinted window in awe at the enormity of the site.

“Here we go, Mama - home sweet home.” Steve got out of the car and then held out his hand to assist you. “Let’s head on over to the common room - the others are waiting. Happy will sort out your bags for us.”

Unused to this level of attention, you spun around to face the security specialist. “Oh, you don’t have to. I’m sure we can…”

Happy held up his hand and flashed you a grin. “It’s not a problem at all, ma’am. It’s practically a holiday compared to some of the things Mr Stark asks me to do.”

You giggled back as you wondered what on earth Iron Man had his staff doing? You’d wouldn’t ask though, getting the feeling that you’d regret knowing the answer.

With your arm tucked safely in his, Steve led you into the state of the art compound and along a maze of corridors. Each one looked the same. Your confusion and apprehension must have shown on your face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart - you’ll learn your way around in no time, and while you’re getting there, you can just ask FRIDAY for help - she’s Tony’s AI and can help with whatever you need.” Steve lifted his head and addressed the ceiling. “Isn’t that right, FRIDAY?”

“It is, Captain. I’m here to assist in any way possible.”

You jumped as the voice came out of hidden speakers, and Steve couldn’t hide his smile.

“Is she always listening?” you whispered, pulling Steve down closer to you. The thought that there would be a computer intelligence that would be able to hear you… your cheeks started to heat at the thought.

Steve shook his head. “She does continually monitor us and the surroundings as standard, but not everything is for her computer eyes, sweetheart. We can tell her when to engage the privacy protocols.” He gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger and leant closer. “Some things are just for me, Omega.” He let out a little growl and nipped at your lower lip, making you jump for the second time in as many minutes, although for totally different reasons. His eyes were dark and his expression held all sorts of promises, but you knew there was no time for that at this moment. Besides, the wait would just make it better.

Your mate obviously had the same idea, as he started walking again, keeping his stride short so he wasn’t dragging you along.

“So, Bucky, Nat, Wanda and Vision live on site. Sam splits his time between here and DC. Clint also splits his time. Thor has rooms here for when he’s visiting from Asgard - at least with his hammer he doesn’t have to worry about the commute time. Tony and Pepper obviously have their own place, but Tony spends a lot of time here, mainly because Pepper’s banned all his large tech and tinkering stuff from their house. Tony should be here, or at least on his way over. He said he was desperate to meet you.”

“Why does that worry me?” you jested.

“He’ll just flirt with you - that’s what Tony does. And he’ll mainly do it to wind me up.” He screwed up his face and you giggled. The idea that you’d even respond to the flirting of someone who wasn’t your Alpha was laughable.

Steve had done a good job of distracting to you, because you didn’t even think about the fact that you must be near your destination until Steve steered you through an open doorway and into a room that housed a large number of sofas, a massive TV, a kitchenette, a foosball table and seven other people.

“And here we are,” said Steve as he came to a halt, moving you in front of him with his arms clasped around your waist. “Everyone, this is my beautiful Omega. Sweetheart - this is everyone.”

You knew your eyes were bugging out of your head. You were in the presence of literal superheroes - your brain had long gotten over the fact that Steve was Captain America - and didn’t for the life of you know how you were going to adjust.

One of them pushed away from the wall and walked towards you with a shy smile, long dark hair flopping over his brow. “Hey, Doll. I’m Bucky, it’s nice to meet you. Sorry I kept Stevie away from you for so long.”

You grinned back at him and shook his proffered hand. At this distance you could tell he was an Alpha, just like Steve. His scent wasn’t unpleasant - metal, sandalwood and fresh snow - but it didn’t speak to you like Steve’s did. His blend of spring sunshine, lemon thyme and honey called to your Omega in a way that no other Alpha’s ever had. “It’s good to meet you too. I’m looking forward to finding out all of Steve’s deep dark secrets from you.”

Bucky threw back his head and laughed, and you heard Steve mutter something under his breath that sounded like ‘I thought it was Tony I’d have to worry about’.

The next to step forward was a petite, but lethal looking red-head. You knew from news reports that this was the Black Widow - or Natasha. “Hi, I’m Nat. I’m glad that this idiot finally managed to find someone to put up with him.”

You sniggered behind your hand as Steve let out a cry of mock anger. Hearing all of the banter made your heart soar. It really was like meeting Steve’s family.

He introduced you around to the others, and you subtly scented them as they got close. Nat had a strange scent - like a cross between an Alpha and a Beta, and you didn’t know what to make of it. Sam and Thor were both Alphas, Clint was a Beta, Wanda an Omega, and Vision was just Null, being an artificial construct.

Your inner Omega was slightly concerned by Wanda for a few moments, until you realised that she and Steve obviously had a big brother-little sister vibe going on and you relaxed.

“Now,” said Steve, “the only person left to meet is…”

There was a crashing and clattering noise from the hallway, and then another man appeared - there was no mistaking who it was.

“...Tony.” Steve finished.

Tony swaggered into the room, walking up to you and Steve.

“Hey Capsicle, sorry I’m late.” He clapped his hand jovially on Steve’s shoulder and grinned.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you’d pulled away from Steve, grasped Tony’s wrist, and pulled it away so he was no longer touching your Alpha. Your upper lip curled and a snarl left your mouth.

“My mate,” you spat at the surprised Omega.

The room fell silent and you felt nine pairs of eyes focussed on you, but your hindbrain was in control, protecting your growing family from this interloper.

“Umm, sweetheart?” Steve placed his hand on your back between your shoulder blades. “Are you alright?”

You growled, eyes still focussed on Tony, who had much more of your Alpha’s scent lingering to him than you were happy with.

“My Alpha,” you bit out, stepping up into Tony’s personal space. “Mine.”

“Okay…” Tony breathed out, slowly removing your hand from him and taking a few steps back, looking you up and down as if he was trying to see what was under your coat. “So, ummm, I think congratulations are in order! I’m guessing that’s what’s set you off.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Vision cock his head and heard him whisper to Wanda. “I think I’ve missed something, dearest.”

“She’s pregnant and she sees Tony as a threat,” Wanda whispered back.

Tony coughed awkwardly and drew your attention back to him.

“I can assure you that I’m not after Ste - your Alpha. I have an Alpha of my own. See.” He pulled down the collar of his shirt, showing you his mating scar.

Your eyes narrowed as you peered at him. “You smell of my Alpha.” The accusatory tone was obvious, and you could feel Steve shifting awkwardly behind you.

“Well, we do spend a lot of time together. We’re friends. I was helping him yesterday - trying to find you.”

You snarled again and Tony’s eyes went wide, as though he thought you might leap forward and try to rip his throat out with your teeth. Your inner Omega was considering it.

“B-But,” Tony continued, “I smell of my own Alpha - Pepper - more. Here…” he held his wrist out towards you, and cautiously you leant forward and sniffed. Tony smelled of oil, coffee and amber. Steve’s scent lingered on him, but it was almost drowned out by another set of notes - vanilla, jasmine and lemon.

“Hhmmph.” You grunted out a non-committal noise, but backed up towards Steve again, taking hold of his arm and aggressively scenting at his wrist - publicly claiming him -, never letting your gaze leave Tony.

“Sweetheart? Omega? Would you like to go to our apartment now and have a little rest?” Steve spoke tentatively, as though you were a bomb set on a hair trigger.

“Not rest. Knot.” you retorted before grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the room. “FRIDAY - which way to Captain Rogers’ apartment?”

The Avengers watched you go, and then looked at each other as soon as you were out of view.

“Well,” said Tony as he breathed out heavily. “I might have to keep my distance from Cap for the next few months.”

Nat chuckled. “Might be best, especially if you want to keep your larynx intact.”

Tony brought his hand up to cup his own throat, lips twisting wryly. “Yeah. At least we know one thing - she’s not gonna let Rogers walk all over her.”

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796, @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #pregnancy fic #pregnant reader #omegaverse #a/b/o verse #My Beginning My End My Everything

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