#AND YOU SMILE AS YOU EASE THE GUN FROM MY HAND AND IM FROZEN WITH JOY RIGHT WHERE I STAND | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orionwhispers · 4 years

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Feels Like Home // Bucky Barnes 🍂

(a/n- ok holy shit ive finally finished my first bucky oneshot. its long as fuck but im so so happy with it. pls let me know what you think. i have lots of requests and peaky stuff coming up as well. love you guys SO much) probs loads of mistakes but its 12k words and im exhausted lol. (also this is inspired by the song feels like home by bea miller and jessie reyez. highly recommend)

warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, HEAVILY implied smut, so much fluff your dentist will kill me, angst and canon level violence.

Bucky Barnes had thought a lot about death.

He thought about it often during the war. Wondering if perhaps a bullet would pass through his gut as he ran through the trenches, or a bomb would explode under his feet as he walked across the battlefield. It was everywhere he looked, his fellow comrades bandaged and bloody, the nurses in the infirmary tent smelling of saline and strong, sweet, copper.

He thought about it more than anything with Hydra. Wishing that the torture would send him over the edge, pleading for the sweet release that death would give him. Thinking that what was waiting for him on the other side surely couldn’t be worse than what he was already dealing with.

Even when he moved into the tower, and into a routine with people who understood and trusted him, death had followed him for so long that it was like a friend.

He always thought his death would be something violent; something carnal and savage, almost poetic for him to die the same way that he had lived.

But who would have thought his demise would have been at the hands of the sleepy eyed, honey lipped, gentle girl that made him coffee and brought him raspberry donuts?

You turned his world upside down on a Thursday. He remembers it well, and thinks back to that autumn morning like it’s a picture he keeps in his wallet or a well thumbed book next to his bed. It doesn’t matter what the circumstances are - he could be in battle, bloody and bruised, or five thousand miles away from you on a mission in the depths of some town he doesn’t know the name of, feeling himself start to crumble - and the thought of you is enough to steady him, your light luring him back to rationality, his girl.

His sweet girl.

He owed it all to you, and the way you changed his life on that rainy, dreary day and made him realise that home wasn’t a place, it was a person.

The compound was quiet. The Avengers all in a state of limbo; exhausted from hours of travelling, the ghost of bruises and cuts on their knuckles and blood under their fingernails. But more powerful than anything: the red hot relief to finally be back in the tower after two weeks.

The rest of the group fell into their own routines, their own little grooves that they had mastered over the however many years they had been saving the world. The showers were turned onto the highest setting, the smell of Sam’s ridiculously expensive mango shower gel and Nat’s deep, woody body scrub lingering across the floor. Comfort food was made in the kitchen, the throaty sound of laughter and bare feet on the tiles as popcorn sizzled and snapped on the stove. Blankets were draped across the sofas, mugs of hot chocolate and cans of sweet, dry beer passed around and over tangled limbs.

It was something they needed - something they craved. That comforting, warm feeling of family, something so trivial and domestic that it was enough to dull whatever they had been faced with, that for the evening they could think of terrible rom coms and laughter and teasing, rather than civilians dying and the smell of blood and the sound of gunshots. For those stolen moments of happiness after days of heart ache and exhaustion - it was enough.

Well, it was enough for almost everyone.

Whilst the others were arguing over the remote and whether peanut M&Ms were better than chocolate, Bucky was in his room with the lock bolted, methodically cleaning his weapons with surgical precision. He had been at the compound for almost six months, and despite the amenities and luxuries that came with his new home, he felt anything but comfortable.

He liked the people he lived and worked with - and most of them liked him too, but that didn’t do anything to dull the ache in his skull and the uncertainty deep in his gut. After so many years of not being in control of his own mind and body, of having his thoughts and feelings altered by people who saw him as nothing more than a weapon, he was struggling to adjust to his new life.

Amongst all of the chaos though, he had Steve.

The familiar sunshine haired boy that helped ease the storm. His best friend, his brother. The once scrawny teenager that he would follow to the end of the world, all guns blazing, no questions asked. Deep down, he knew that the golden boy was perhaps the only reason he was still at the tower, blending in with all the rest of the wonderful, shining eyed superhero’s around him, making him stick out like a sore thumb.

He knew they thought he could change, but he wasn’t so sure. Sometimes - like the times when he found himself grinning at something Clint said in the back of the jet, or when Nat patted his shoulder in thanks when he covered her in battle, or when he sat on the roof with Steve, talking about faded memories of pin up girls and Coney Island, he felt like perhaps he could be the man Steve thought he was. But then he caught sight of himself in the reflected surfaces of his bathroom, or felt the ricochet of his gun against his shoulder or the blood coating his hands and dripping down into his boots - and he remembered that sometimes people just don’t change.

He listened to the rain as he folded away his weapons that day. Listened to the way the patter of the water muffled the noises of laughter and playfulness coming from the lounge and dissolved into silence. It was too early to retire into bed, and besides, after a mission like the one they had come from sleep wouldn’t be on his mind for a while, his body was still racing with adrenaline.

Then, amongst the patter of raindrops and mingle of voices, he heard something.

A commotion in the hall. His body was finely tuned to pick up anything out of the ordinary, and he could hear the magnetic whir and clang of the elevator as it reached their floor. Everybody was crowded in the living room, which meant it would be somebody from outside the inner circle, and usually that would send cold chills down to his spine, but for some reason this time it didn’t.

Ghosts. Premonitions. Fortune telling. All a load of horse shit to him. He might have been to space and been frozen in time and met some really, really, bizarre people - but there were some things he just didn’t believe in.

Until that rainy day.

It was like a magnetic pull inside of him, when he wanted to lock himself away and not speak to anyone, something inside of him made him want to get up and join the rest of the crew in meeting the stranger.

Even before he saw your face you had him, hook, line and sinker.

So he begrudgingly got to his feet and stood in the doorway, his shoulder leaning against the frame, metal arm out of sight. Steve glanced at him quickly with his eyebrows raised but he ignored him, focusing his eyes on the elevator as it slowly started to open.

Tony looked up suddenly as the doors opened , furrowing his brow at the semi circle of avengers watching him intently. Rather then question it he rolled his eyes, exhaling loudly and stepping forward, gesturing wildly with his arms. “Gather round, gather round, circus freaks. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Because Tony’s personality took up almost the entire room by himself, he had to step to the side for everyone to even get a glimpse of who he was talking about. They waited patiently, with crossed arms and gentle smiles as you stepped out of the shadows.

Bucky felt himself freeze.

You looked so... scared. Not in the traditional sense, not like you were terrified of them or fearing for your life, but the kind of alarm that always trudged through his blood, the feeling of unease and instability, as though you didn’t really belong.

Everybody fell into their roles the way he knew they would. You were young, probably not much older than the Parker kid, and that was why Nat and Steve stepped forward instantly, very protective of you before they even knew your name.

Your hair was mused and loose, eyes wide and lips puffy, as if you had just woken up. You were dressed all in black, baggy clothes and no makeup, your fingers interlocked, your rapid heartbeat pulsing in his ears.

And for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Everyone, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Tony said, one arm resting gently on your shoulders, pushing you forward.

Bucky had to stop himself from saying your name aloud, wondering why he wanted to taste it on his tongue.

As everybody spoke, introducing themselves with just enough reservation to make you feel comfortable, your eyes met, and his heart stopped. Your eyes were more white than not, a little glossy and swimming with uncertainty, and he felt the urge to do something, anything, to make you feel even a little bit calmer.

The feeling was so foreign that he stepped back, tearing his gaze away from you, suddenly unnerved. He didn’t miss the way you exhaled, and he pretended not to notice the way his body seemed to pine for the warmth he had felt when your eyes met.

Bucky heard him whisper to Nat, his usually sardonic voice dripping with genuine concern. “Keep an eye on her, for me, please.”

And although he knew Tony would never ask that of him, he knew that without a doubt, he would.

—————————————————————-

Those next few days, you stayed hidden in your room - which just so happened to be opposite his own.

Despite that, he never saw you. Not even once.

You weren’t at any team meetings or debriefings, you were never nestled in one of the chairs in the lounge, never sat on the balcony watching the sunrise or slicing up strawberries and grapes in the nook in the kitchen.If it wasn’t for the small, barely there noises you made every so often, he would have thought you had left.

Through the vents he could occasionally hear the whine of your door and the gentle sound of your footsteps at midnight darting to the kitchen. Sometimes he heard Wanda speaking softly to you, so kind and gentle that he could even hear the anxiety leave your voice for a little while. He’d hear Tony’s loud and obnoxious knock in the middle of the night, the two of you leaving for the lab under the cover of darkness.

Bucky hardly slept. It had never come smoothly to him, slipped through his fingers too easily like grains of sand. He used to train to block out the noise, attacking a punching bag until all he could hear was the steady thump, thump, thump of his knuckles. Steve had taken him running whenever the nights got too long or too loud, sweating out the frustration he felt as they darted through the streets at midnight, but now he found another way to pass those hours in the dead of night.

There was something oddly comforting to him about laying upright in his bed, reading whatever novel somebody had leant him and told him was a classic, listening out for the shuffle of your footsteps from the other side of the hall. He remembered what it had been like for him when he first moved into the tower. He knew how hard it was, moving into a space that wasn’t your own.

So now he found solace under the breeze of his ceiling fan and the slow drip of that one leaky tap that he still hadn’t fixed and the low hum of whatever sitcom you were watching vibrating through the walls.

He liked to make sure that you were safe. You were obviously scared of something, or someone, and it made him feel better that he was keeping an ear out for anything out of the ordinary. He told himself that it was for the benefit of the whole tower, but that didn’t explain the ease he felt in his chest when he finally heard the quiet, even snores coming from your room, and the way that it made his own eyes start to close.

The next time he saw you in the flesh was almost a month after you had moved in.

He was in the lounge with the rest of the avengers that had slept most of the morning away, Sam nursing a cup of vanilla coffee and Steve watching the news as he made some kind of bizarre and disgusting protein shake. Bucky sat on the sofa with his back ramrod straight as he did the daily crossword, something about filling out the empty boxes comforting him.

It was a rare free day and he had slept in a little longer than usual, only falling asleep after he had heard the squeak of your bed frame and the whir of your fan flittering in his ears. When he had woken up your room was still, and he assumed you were still asleep as he headed out for his run, but by the sound of your voice in the stairwell you had obviously slipped out unnoticed, and he couldn’t help feeling impressed.

He perked up instantly when he heard you. He listened to the soft way you spoke against the sharp click of Pepper’s heels against the floor, his eyes darting to the doorway as he heard you approach. He saw the girls first, the three of them flanking you like a security detail. Wanda and Natasha at your sides, Pepper walking slightly ahead; gesturing with her jewellery clad hands as she spoke to you.

You faltered as you stepped forward, eyes widening like a deer in headlights as you noticed the boys watching you from the other side of the room. Sam awkwardly removed his hand from where he had shoved it down a cereal box, waving kindly with lucky charm marshmallows stuck to his fingers. Steve - ever the gentleman - gave you his classic golden retriever smile, greeting you as though you were an old friend.

You relaxed a little at that, and Bucky felt himself deflate. He would never be the most warm and welcoming person, not anymore, and he wondered why that bothered him so much when it came to you.

Pepper gently placed a hand on your shoulder, and you leaned into her touch like a cat. “Boys. You remember (Y/N).”

You looked up, waving a hand that was hidden by your oversized sweater sleeves. “Hello again.”

A shy smile. Big eyes. A voice like melted chocolate. Bucky felt fourteen again.

He wanted to say something to you, but he couldn’t get any words out. Pepper was on a mission though, perching her hand motherly on your shoulder and escorting you forward. “Right. The lab. This way!”

Bucky’s gaze followed you all the way down the hall, not stopping even when you faded into nothingness. He turned slowly, feeling Steve and Nat watching with matching smirks on their faces, their eyes flickering with childish glee.

He scoffed.

“Shut up.”

———————————————————

As the weeks passed, Bucky hardly caught a glimpse of you. He didn’t even realise he was searching for you, his eyes just flitting over the empty chair at meal times or trailing through the gym, wondering if he might make out the bounce of your hair or the curve of your lips.

Not that he had been thinking about your lips. He definitely hadn’t been thinking about your lips.

You had piqued his interest though. He thought of the way he had been when he first moved into the tower, and knew that the first few weeks were always the hardest. You spent the majority of the time in your room, occasionally leaving for Tony’s floor or the lab, but always hiding in the night and the shadows, falling just out of reach before he got lucky enough to see you.

Fortunately, there were enough recon missions to fill his days. He found distraction in snow capped mountains and dry, dusty deserts, searching for old HYDRA bases or intel that might have been missed. His mind was filled with coordinates and strategy plans, and that worked for a little while. Until the jet landed and he found himself wondering if you would be there with the rest of the team welcoming him back, and every time he was left feeling a quick, pang of disappointment when you weren’t.

Eventually though, things started to look up.

At three in the morning, like clockwork, he began hearing your door squeal as you opened it, and then the sound of sock clad feet padding through the hallways. The first time it happened his heart leapt and he jolted upright, convinced that something bad had happened. He didn’t relax until he heard Natasha speak, voice crystal clear despite the early hour.

“You ready?”

He soon discovered that Natasha had taken you under her wing, and was helping you spar at the times you felt the most comfortable - when the rest of the building was asleep. He knew he wasn’t the only person who was curious about you, wanting to know if you had any powers, and Nat had stopped Steve from asking a million different questions about you.

He didn’t want to make you retreat once again, so he left it alone.

Eventually, you started sleeping in, getting more comfortable and leaving your bed much later than before. The others still kept their distance, entering the gym just as you were leaving, drenched in sweat and smiling. The first time that Bucky saw you smile like that was after a run with Sam, and he swore his knees almost buckled at the sight of you, wide eyed and sparkling like a diamond, sucker punching the air right out of his gut.

It was just about dawn when he next saw you, the sun barely risen, the compound bathed in a golden, ethereal light. No matter how many early mornings they had had, the kitchen still smelt like triple shot espresso and cans of red bull every day, sleepy eyed avengers mumbling and grumbling as they fought over who got to use the coffee machine first. Bucky smiled smugly across his mug of instant grounds that Sam had so tastefully called, “disgusting cheap crap,” as his $3 coffee capsule got crushed once again.

Steve made some quick joke as he towelled off his hair from his shower, but his words crumbled into TV static when Bucky saw you coming off the elevator. You were limping, just a little, but enough to make his heart thunder in his chest. You were smiling though, wide and happily. As bright as the full sun, and Bucky wanted to stay in your warmth for a little bit longer. Natasha held onto you as though you weighed less than a newborn baby, and the two of you stumbled towards your room. Before you disappeared you shot a small and hesitant smile at the boys, one that pierced through Bucky like a steel bullet.

He wanted to keep quiet but he couldn’t. Not after he had seen you.

“You don’t think Natasha is being to hard on her?” He said finally, clearing his throat in an attempt to sound nonchalant.

“Why do you care?” Sam had asked, halfway through a breakfast burrito that was dropping more food on his shirt than into his mouth.

“Camaraderie.” He quipped.

“Camaraderie my ass. Remember that time I almost broke my leg sparring with you? You made me walk myself to the clinic.”

“That’s because you were being whiney and dramatic.”

“Oh? Well I’ll tell you what I think. I think that Mr Barnes here is - ”

“Alright. That’s enough.” Steve said finally, cutting the conversation short, knowing exactly where Sam was going with his thoughts and not wanting to put his best friend through any embarrassment about his... interest in you.

Sam gave him a glare that said that the conversation was definitely not over, but Bucky ignored him, his eyes trailing the hallway you had walked through, his belly aching and flipping from the way that you had looked at him, filling him with a warmth that didn’t dim even long after he had fallen asleep that night.

——————————————————————-

Things really started to change at midnight. When the sky went black and turned into a blanket of obsidian and twinkling stars, that was when both of you came alive.

The nightmares were back, and they were bad. Blood. Metal. Rust. The pain that felt as though his bones were snapping one by one. Gasping for air. Sweat. Fists. Gunshots. No longer could he stay asleep listening out for you, his body didn’t want him to feel comfortable, safe, whatever the way you made him feel. He wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of something as sweet as you. He was not a man that deserved good things, and he knew he certainly didn’t deserve you.

The compound was so big and he felt so small in his bed. Sometimes he swore he could feel the walls closing in, even though he knew his quarters were more than triple the size of some of the hellholes he had been trapped in. He needed space. He needed air. And that was what led him to wander the hallways like some kind of spectre as the city roared and thundered and thrived below him.

The rooftop had always been his favourite spot. Tony loved using it for parties, setting up a bar and filling the hot tub with champagne and hiring some idiot to blast stupid music that made Bucky want to smash his head against a brick wall. But it was often just used by the team, swimming laps in the pool and laughing under the summer sun, strawberries and wine in the spring and late night swims in the rain in the winter, making Clint jump in the frozen water naked after he lost a round of poker.

It was one of the rare places that Bucky felt truly safe. Out in the open air, watching the water sparkle teal under the stars, the city so big and beautiful, lights flickering and horns blaring. He came up when things went bad, losing himself in the noise and the ice cold air. He often pulled a chair out to the edge, drinking a beer that had no effect on him but somehow made him feel a little bit lighter, just watching the world go by.

He hadn’t been up there in a while. The nightmares had stopped for a while, incidentally the same time you arrived, but recently they had started to trickle back in, like rain at the end of summer.

He was in a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a henley with far too many holes in, cradling a mug of cocoa with a shot of dark rum as he stepped off the elevator, stopping suddenly when he noticed the outdoor lights shining brightly. He knew that everybody else was asleep, and his field instincts kicked in quickly, until he noticed the soft lilac hue of your satin pyjamas glistening under the moon.

Perhaps he should have left. He knew that you liked to keep your distance and God, did he understand that, but his feet seemed to stay cemented to the floor. You were luring him like a ship to a lighthouse, beckoning him to follow you, and who was he to resist?

You were bent over a row of plants and flowers, watering them from a buttercup yellow can, your fingers stained with mud. You moved gently, tentatively fondling the leaves and petals and clipping away any stray stems and weeds. He watched you with curious eyes, amazed at how something so simple could show so much about your character. After so long of not seeing you he felt lucky to catch a glimpse, and he didn’t want to do anything to scare you off.

That was, until his foot caught the edge of one of the sun loungers.

For a trained assassin, he could really be a dumbass sometimes.

You looked up quickly, eyes as wide as dinner plates, your face just starting to flush. He held up his free hand, all the air leaving his lungs like a balloon. He stepped back to leave you in peace, but then he heard you softly say:

“Wait.”

So he did.

You looked nervous but enchanting, with your mussed hair and fluffy slippers and long eyelashes. You smiled timidly, but warmly, and looked at him. Really looked at him. And something about that made him feel truly seen, for the first time in a long time.

“Bucky, right?” A pause lingered in the air, he was suddenly face to face with you and somehow all of his words dissolved into the night air. You mistook his turmoil for something else, and straightened up, the trowel in your hand spilling dirt onto the floor. “Oh I’m so sorry. Do you prefer James? Or...”

“Bucky!” He said, almost shouting, and then calmed himself down. He could feel a blush rising up his throat from his outburst, but if it meant you would look at him the way that you were, then he would happily embarrass himself forever.

A moment passed, the stars overhead round and full despite all of the pollution in the city air, and for once Bucky didn’t find them the most beautiful thing he had seen.

“What are you doing?” He asked before he could stop himself.

“Oh, um.” You were a little flustered, the apples of your cheeks rounding and your lips twitching up, like you were laughing at a joke he so desperately wanted to be a part of. It was infectious. You were infectious, and the ice cold assassin felt the frost around his heart start to thaw.

“Tony got them for me.” You said, barely meeting his gaze. “After everything.” You stopped awkwardly and cleared your throat. His interest was piqued but he knew better than to probe you, instead letting you ramble. “He thought it would be good for me to have something to take care of. Something to look after, you know?”

He nodded.

“It’s not much, but sometimes coming up here and watering them just takes my mind off of things, you know?” You said, somewhat absentmindedly. He watched as you stroked the petals, pushing your finger into a droplet of water on the leaves. He wasn’t much of a gardener but he recognised a few of the potted plants. Forget me nots, African violets, buttery yellow primrose and icy purple orchids. You had other things too, sweet mint and thyme and rosemary, and budding stems of strawberries and blackberries and tomatoes.

It was amazing how much life you had grown along the usually industrial looking balcony. It was rare to see something thrive amongst the smoke of the city,

“I like it up here too, it’s peaceful.” He said, looking out at the skyline and smelling the crisp, cool air.

You mistook his honesty for an annoyance at breaching his personal space, and held your hands up apologetically. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” You were about to make excuses and leave, not wanting to upset the very handsome man who had occupied far too much of your brain anymore, but he stepped forward and said quickly:

“No! In fact, I er - I think I like it much more now.”

You smiled, and oh boy, did Bucky know he was done for.

———————————————————-

Bucky started to like the nights.

After the first midnight meeting it somehow became unspoken for the two of you to meet up on the rooftop. Bucky never wanted to overstep or make you feel uncomfortable, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to see you again in the privacy of the twilight, the moonlight casting gold flecks into your eyes.

It should have been awkward. An ex HYDRA puppet and a girl with a blurry past that had just joined the biggest crime fighting organisation in the world should have found it hard to open up to one another, but somehow that didn’t happen.

You both kept the conversation light, the silences were warm and comfortable, and everything felt bizarrely natural. You’d often be preening your plants and Bucky would be sat on a lounge chair, reading a book and sneaking glances at you. You talked about the city, he told you how much it had changed since the 40’s, and you told him about the crappy apartment with no heating and a nest of owls you lived in before Tony took you in.

Family never came up, it was a subject you danced around and Bucky respected your privacy. He told you about his though, it slipped out accidentally when he saw you preening foxgloves the colour of ripe and juicy plums - and how they reminded him of the ones his mother once had in the window box of their kitchen. Somehow the memory hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, and you expertly swerved the conversation onto something else. It lingered in his mind for the rest of the night, only dimming when he came home from a workout the following morning and saw a little vase filled with purple petals and a book titled “Caring For Foxgloves” left outside of his door.

His smile didn’t fade the whole rest of the day, even through Sam’s relentless teasing.

He remembered you talking about your favourite cafe off campus, and the white hot chocolate and raspberry donuts you would kill for, and took an hour detour from his running route to pick them up for you both to share later that night.

It was amazing, how this girl he only knew through the sounds from his wall was now sitting with him in the early hours of the morning, talking to him like he was a real person and not just some shitty science experiment. You exchanged books, giving him ones that you thought he would enjoy, and he devoured them in less than a week, finding traces of you between the pages.

The two of you never sat right beside one another. You knew his past and you were cautious not to overwhelm him, always leaving generous inches and metres between you both. For the first time in a long time Bucky didn’t want somebody to give him space, he craved those moments when your fingertips would brush as he helped you pot a plant, when your thighs would touch as you leant over him to watch the stars, when he could feel your warmth orbiting him like a planet.

He used to loathe the night time, but now, he spent the whole day aching for the sun to set so he could be with you.

Eventually, as you grew closer with him, you also grew closer with the team, and soon you were joining them sporadically for movie nights and “Friends” marathons and training. You mainly stayed with Wanda and Nat, the two girls sparring with you and showing you the ropes and coming from a place you could understand the best, but you always ended up back next to Bucky - and he loved it.

The rest of the team noticed too. The way that you brought Bucky out of his shell and he helped you to feel grounded. Steve instantly saw that the smile on his best friends face was wider than it had been in fifty years, and he enjoyed watching the two of you together, happy his best friend was happy.

Bucky felt his own change, too. He was no longer a blushing, stuttering mess around you, (well, not completely. He was still a wreck when you smiled at him, or laughed, or did basically anything) but he had found a comfortable middle ground in your friendship, the two of you able to tease and joke with each other like old friends. Finding ways to talk the whole night and day away, watching the sky turn from obsidian to sweet purple and then milky blue, both of you wondering how you had managed to once again miss an entire night quicker than a snap of fingers.

He knew that he was in deep when you got cleared for your first mission.

He remembered waking up, running with Steve, drinking coffee and making eggs, all whilst pretending he wasn’t looking over his shoulder waiting for you every few seconds. Sam came in with a smug smile and stole a slice of toast, buttering it until it was dripping and eating it in seconds, his brow furrowing a little as he watched Bucky.

“What?” Bucky asked, shooting him a curious glance.

“Aren’t you gonna say goodbye to your girl?”

“She not ‘my girl’.” Bucky said through a mouthful of coffee, hating how the words made him feel.

“Oh, right. Of course not. It’s not like the two of you don’t spend every second of every day and every night together, and it’s not like you’re totally head over heels -”

Bucky decided it would be easier to just cut him off, taking his frustration out on the eggs he was now whisking a little too hard. “Why would I say goodbye to her?”

“You didn’t hear?”

He shook his head, suddenly feeling a million tiny needles prickle his skin.

“Bruce signed her off. She’s heading to Madrid with Nat.”

“She’s what?”

That was all it took for him to leave, Sam watching him closely and smirking to himself. Not noticing until it was too late that the pan had started smoking, and the smell of burnt eggs wafted through the air, and Sam was left alone to grab the fire extinguisher and coat the meal in clouds of white foam.

Bucky stormed through the halls, he wasn’t quite sure what his plan was, his mind felt like a bowl of alphabet soup and he couldn’t quite place his anger or frustration, but that didn’t stop him from tearing through the rooms with a face like thunder. He found Tony in the conference room, finalising the mission plans and murmuring under his breath. Bucky feet moved him forward before he could even compute it.

“You signed her off?”

Tony exhaled loudly, and with obvious frustration spun round on his three hundred thousand dollar shoes.

“I was wondering when you would pitch in your two cents.”

“Do you think she’s ready?”

“Yes I do.”

“What if -? What if something happens? What if something goes wrong? What if - ”

“It won’t.”

“What if it does?”

“Look, Barnes. I know you and (Y/N) have been getting on well, and I know that she’s opened up a lot because of you -” He paused, mulling over the distaste in his mouth. “... As much as that might irritate me. But you don’t know what she’s like on the field, she’s brilliant.”

Bucky didn’t doubt that for a second, but his blood was as cold as ice. Missions went wrong all of the time, even a simple recon with Clint ended up with them both littered in bullets, and the mere thought of that made his head spin. He had no real reason to be so overprotective of you, but he truly couldn’t help it, everything in him was screaming at him to keep you safe.

“Are you even sure that...”

“Bucky?” He felt like a scarecrow shoved in a pool of mud, stuck straight and stiff as you said his name and rendered him totally tongue tied. He wondered how much you had heard, and he felt like there was an ice cube trailing down his spine.

“Aha! There she is! Superwoman!” Tony said, clapping his hands together, always knowing how to diffuse the tension.

He turned around and felt his heart jack hammer in his chest. He could see Nat, but his eyes totally passed over her, because you were there: your hair tied up and back from your face, subtle makeup with long eyelashes and syrupy lips, a black and powder pink tactical suit that fit and hugged every curve and bow of your body. His brain totally let him down, short circuiting at the mere sight of you. You looked so happy and healthy and glowing, and also like you could knock him out with a single punch - and good god would he let you.

“Bucky I was erm, I was looking for you. I wanted to say goodbye.” You clasped your hands together, appearing so sweet and shy, a total contrast to the femme fatale you portrayed.

“Natalia!” Tony said quickly, and for once Bucky was grateful for his interruption. “Come and look at this strange bird with me.”

All of you knew it was quite possibly the worst fake distraction ever but you ignored it. Nat just rolled her eyes and followed Tony to the balcony, but not before wiggling her eyebrows at Bucky.

You moved forward tentatively. “I wanted to tell you this morning but I couldn’t find you.” You weren’t quite sure why you were so cautious and apprehensive, desperate to speak to him. You had been travelling and fighting for as long as you could remember, you had spent many years alone and entered the battlefield countless times - and yet, that morning as Bruce gave you the all clear, the only person you wanted to see or speak to was Bucky.

“I was running, I’m sorry.”

You smiled, and it made him smile. “Well I’ve found you now.” You stepped forward, Bucky inhaled air so sharply it almost sliced the back of this throat. “I wanted to say goodbye, and that I’ll see you soon.” You paused, then blinked up at him almost cheekily. “Would you do me a favour? If you have time? Could you water the plants for me?”

He grinned, toothy and white. “Already on it.”

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

He put his hand on your shoulder, and he swore he could feel you melt into his touch, or maybe that was his knees buckling at his stupidity and the way that you were looking up at him. He wanted to say a million things, but instead he settled for: “Goodbye, (Y/N). Be safe, okay?”

“Of course.”

He watched as you packed your things and headed to the jet, the rest of the crew coming out to say their farewells and wish them luck. His eyes were trained on you as you spoke to Tony, nodding your head as you listened to him. He felt Natasha sidle up next to him, her hair shining copper in the sun.

“She’ll be alright, Barnes.”

“I know. But - ”

“I’ll take care of her. Promise.”

“Thank you, Nat. Good luck.”

“Don’t need it!”

Three hours later and he was in the gym, punching out his excess energy. The bag was splitting at the seams, and sand trailed sadly onto the floor. Bucky ignored it, his hits getting harder and faster, his blood pounding in his ears. Since you had left he had taken to pacing the floor and biting his nails down to the wick, hovering over Steve as he spoke to Nat through her wire. He only left when he realised that he was driving everybody else crazy with his obsessive twitching and marching, taking out his frustration on whatever he could rip apart with his fingers.

“Tony’s going to kill you if you break anymore punching bags.” Steve said from behind him, his voice echoing around the dark room.

“Hmph.”

He couldn’t stop. His hands were red raw and his knuckles were scraped but they would heal soon, and he’d go back to tearing them up all over again, anything to get rid of the adrenaline and nausea that had been swimming in him since the morning.

A minute passed. And then two. And then three. He exhaled, pausing, his hands midway in the air. He was about to say what he had always known, right from the second your eyes met that crisp autumn day, and Steve was the only one he could confide in.

“I think I’m falling in love with her.”

Steve hardly even blinked, just clapped a hand on his shoulder, warm and comforting, his brother.

“I know.”

Because of course he did. He knew it from the way Bucky smiled, the way he was lighter, brighter, like you had made him switch on and appreciate the little things around him. He had seen Bucky doe eyed and loopy over hundreds of girls back in the day, he knew how he got, but this... this was something bigger, magnetic, the clash of two electric people.

There wasn’t much Steve could say, he was great at saving people but not so good at the more personal side of things, he still turned into a puddle when Sharon looked at him. Instead he laughed, his teeth white as snow and his eyes playful and teasing. “You got it bad, dude.”

Despite everything Bucky smiled. Because yeah, he did.

————————— ————————————

You came back from the mission unharmed and euphoric.

And the second. And the third. And the fourth.

Bucky still tracked mud across all of the carpets and tapped his feet mindlessly for the entirety you were gone, but he was getting better. Steve had even bought him a joke present of a pear shaped and scented stress ball, but Bucky had ripped it in half when there was gunfire in the background of your coms, followed by an apologetic “Sorry!” from Sam. Bucky had then poured all of the tiny fruit smelling beads under the duvet in Sams bed, and then put all of his toilet paper on the holder backwards, knowing how annoyed he got about it.

Every time you came back you were exhausted and elated and beaming, and after having a nap and a shower you spent the rest of the day with the team, but the nights were reserved just for him. You grew even closer together. Steve had watched from the rooftop doorway gobsmacked one evening when he had left his phone up there, watching the way you two interacted, the way that he curled into your touch, never away from it. You got electric shocks when your fingers touched, you would blush when his knee playfully nudged yours at something stupid somebody had said at dinner, and you found yourself falling asleep to the image of chestnut hair and ocean eyes. You had crushes before, but this was all consuming, the kind of thing that made your stomach erupt in butterflies and your eyes turn into hearts.

You were worried that it might be one sided, but Bucky was totally, completely, smitten.

He watched you. Noticed the way that you smiled and laughed and tucked your hair behind your ear. He thought of the girls in the forties, with their painted lips and curled hair and immaculate clothes, and how you blew all of them out of the water, even in just your flannel pyjamas and bunny slippers. The coil in his belly when he looked at you reminded him of being sixteen and holding hands at the pictures, but that had just been a flicker, and this was a forest fire.

The first mission with the rest of the crew was when things went sour.

He got to see how you acted first hand. The way that you were quiet in the jet, but smiling strawberry red, taking in all of the orders that Steve meticulously laid out, your eyes wide and eager. He watched you as he helped Nat set up the guns and stock the ammo, the way that you toyed with the knife in your boot, the gears in your head turning and working on something he was desperate to discover.

He hadn’t been on a mission with you, not only because they way you looked in your suit and the way that you grinned would have led to him inadvertently getting a bullet in his head, but because from what he had heard, your fighting styles were totally different. Your powers and your skills were a mystery to him, one that he badly wanted to solve, but you kept that side of you hidden and guarded with barbed wire, and he respected that.

You were paired off with Sam. Nat with Clint. Bucky with Steve. Wanda with Vision. It was a simple mission, there was some intel locked in a safe of a seemingly abandoned factory in the south of Russia. Tony had discovered the place crawling with hidden members of a gang that specialised in human trafficking and organ farming, and he needed what was hidden below to help blow it out of the water.

It was going to take a lot of skill. There was no doubt that the enemies would be heavily armed, possibly even with illegally manufactured weapons, and all of you had to keep your heads straight the entire time. He had wanted desperately to be paired with you, to keep his eye on you, (not that you needed it) but he knew it was out of the question. Instead, as you all split up a few miles away in the woods, he grabbed your hand quickly and rubbed his finger across your knuckles, looking at you intently, his eyes swimming with sincerity.

“Be careful.” He said, his gaze locked on yours.

You smiled. “Always.”

He stuck his middle finger up at Steve’s smug face as they headed towards the factory.

Things were going well. As well as they could be when they were covered in blood and sweat and surrounded by the sound of gunfire and cracking bones. Nobody had been hurt so far, the coms quiet as the pairings cleared their sectors and worked their way down to the basement. Bucky had just pushed the last man over the railing and onto the concrete floor below when he heard the crackle of panicked voices in his ear, his eyes darting to Steve.

“Shit! Fuck!”

“Sam?”

“It’s (Y/N)! Fuck! One of them took her!”

“What?” Steve said instantly, switching straight from solider to captain, immediately alert.

“There was too many, it was an ambush!”

“Sam just stay there and - ” Steve tried to keep his voice steady and level, but it seemed as though the walls were closing in. To make matters worse, he saw a blur of black in his eye line, and watched helplessly as his best friend tore down the stairwell, his footsteps a clap of thunder. “Fuck! Bucky!”

Bucky knew that he was going to get one hell of a lecture and probably some six week course in impulse in the force, but all that he could think about was you, his blood was ice cold, his body numb and his brain conjuring up a million different pictures of you that made him feel sick to his stomach. He leapt over the bannister and landed haphazardly on the floor, his gun cocked and ready. His eyes were nothing but jet black pupils, scanning for your face through the halls.

He knew that you and Sam had been working through what used to be the laboratory, and that was on the other side of the building. His legs and arms moved almost mechanically, determined to get to you as quickly as possible, taking out anybody that stood in his way. He could hear Steve calling from behind him, and the sputter of the others in his earpiece, but his focus was on one thing. You.

The men were big and brawny and mean. Tattooed arms and shaved heads and gold teeth. Bucky shredded through them like they wore nothing. He flung them over tables, threw them through doorways and dragged them up by the roots of their hair. They were strong though, laughing at him through coffee stained teeth, loving his anger and desperation.

“Where is she?” He snarled at one particularly vicious thug brandishing two assault rifles.

“Who? Your whore? Dead.”

He snapped his neck like it was nothing but a twig.

He ran from room to room, his boots squealing across blood and stray bullets, his breath as ragged and sharp as glass. Everywhere was empty. Rows of vials and big glass cylinders and cages for animal testing, there was nothing, the place completely ransacked and bare. He hissed, getting ready to fight his way through another floor until he heard exasperated grunts and the clash of metal from a small room off to the side.

He skidded into the doorway with his rifle up at his shoulder, his finger right on the trigger, ready to shoot somebody’s fucking head off. Instead he paused, his mouth agape and his hands lowering, the whole room standing still. There was a freezer. Probably for samples and test tubes and whatever crazy fucking thing they kept in a place like this, but they had used it as a cage, the handles tied with thick copper chains and padlocks. Sam was using the butt of his gun to smash his way through, and they were old and rusty and starting to crumble easily, and Bucky watched helplessly as he finally busted in, clouds of ice puffing around him.

Bucky didn’t know why he couldn’t move. Couldn’t help. But his feet were as heavy as cinder blocks, and his heart was thundering in his ears. There was a small squeal, broken and half hearted, void of anything other than exhaustion, and then the smell of tears and blood, followed by sweet mint and wildflowers. Unmistakably you.

He wanted to run forward and scoop you in his arms, press your head against the crook of his neck and get you far, far away from this place, but he couldn’t move, and so he watched as Sam tugged you into him, running his fingers through your hair, cradling you like a child, soothing you as you cried hot, wet tears into his suit. And Bucky wished with everything in him that it was him instead.

He stayed back as you flew home with Sam. He kept away when you were in the hospital with Bruce, lurked in his room when you went over everything with Tony, locked himself away when you confided in Steve. He felt as though he had failed you, no matter what the others said. He felt as though he had let you down, and the noise you had made when Sam tugged you from the depths of that tiny little box, it played in his head like a warped record, haunting him and his dreams.

For a week he kept to himself. For a week he ran a different route and trained at a gym down by the water. For a week he took his motorbike out to a shitty diner in the bad part of town and ate soggy pancakes instead of having dinner with the team, for a week he did everything he could to not see you, thinking that would ease what you had been through, but instead it left you feeling torn and hurt and completely alone.

Tony made him come in to test out a new reloading system and so he reluctantly snuck down to the figuring range under the cover of darkness. He allowed himself to get lost in the sounds of carnage and the smell of metal, until he heard soft footsteps from behind him.

“You’re avoiding me.”

You seemed so sad, and that made his heart clench.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

Silence. That had never been awkward between the two of you, ever, and yet now it was so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

You wrung your hands together, your eyes flitting around the room, never quite landing on his face. That hurt. After a moment you cleared your throat, using the toe of your sneaker to kick up dust from the floor. “Do you - do you know? I mean, has anybody said anything to you? About me?”

He shook his head. “No.” There had been a million times when it was on the tip of his tongue to pry the truth from Nat or Steve, but his respect for you was stronger than his need for answers.

He felt his stomach flip when you finally blinked up at him. You looked as though you hadn’t slept and he knew he looked worse. You were still so beautiful though, looking so young and angelic under the harsh lights and surrounded by all the weaponry. Like a powder pink rose amongst giant, violent thorns.

Unable to stop himself, he blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

“You said that.”

“Not for avoiding you. For letting you - For not being there for you.”

Your mouth was open, brows furrowed as you took in what he said. “What?”

“I should have helped you.” There was desperation in his voice, and he turned to face the targets rather than look at you, not wanting you to see him so weak.

You were silent for quite a while. It was difficult for you to digest his words, like swallowing glass. You had been under the impression that seeing you tearful and cowering and broken had scared him off, had made him look at you differently, but now you knew that he blamed himself. “Bucky...” You said, biting back emotion. “Its not your fault.” Your tone was definite. Strong. You wouldn’t let him feel guilty for something he had no control over.

He brushed you off, shifting his weight, turning playful. “Yeah I know. It was Sam’s.”

You rolled your eyes.

He clicked his tongue. He set the gun down on the table and turned to face you fully, his eyes solid and unwavering. “I am so sorry you got hurt.”

“I wasn’t - I.”Finding the right words was hard. You had so much you wanted to tell him but no idea how to, the sentences sticking to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter. “It was just...Can we? Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“The roof?”

“Yeah,” You smiled, and Bucky swore even the strongest industrial lights couldn’t even match your spark. “The roof.”

Under the stars and above the city as the cars raced and the sirens blared, you told him everything. Growing up as a lab rat, twisted and moulded by scientists and pumped full of chemicals. You told him of finding your powers and being forced to use them for vile things you couldn’t even repeat, and when he heard the tremor of your voice and saw the gloss on your eyes his whole body vibrated and turned a shade of red that it was almost black. You told him how the people that created you had wanted you back, and how Tony had saved you from being taken again, how you owed him your life.

He wasn’t good with comfort. He wasn’t good with words. He was good at tearing people apart limb from limb and shooting them from distances and breaking their bones like they were toothpicks, but for you, he would try. In a move so unlike him that it felt as though he might have been brainwashed once again, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

You froze at first, but eventually thawed and melted into him, grateful for his touch. You had wanted to be close to him since the first time you met but you held back, and now everything felt right, like the missing piece of a puzzle slotting into place. Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he gave someone a bear hug, his nose buried in your hair, his fingers locked around you, desperate to keep you safe. Perhaps it was way back then, a time of uniforms and alleyways and candy floss and city smog, a time he used to long for with everything in him.

But now the memories of the past didn’t even compare to what he felt when he held you.

———————————————————

Everything came to a head on the first mission you had alone together.

Two months passed. Two months of subtle touches and shared smiles and inside jokes. Two months of rooftop laughter and midnight meetings and eating ice cream straight from the tub as you sat under the stars. Two months of utter, dreadful, aching, slow burning, and it was driving everybody else crazy.

Mostly Sam.

“I’m just saying,” Sam had murmured to Steve over chocolate eclairs one morning as they watched you teach a wide eyed, love struck Bucky how to play Mario Kart. “Can’t we just lock them in a room? Force them to kiss?”

“No.”

“It’s just so gross.”

Wanda flicked a grape at him, smiling cheekily as it bounced off his nose. “It’s sweet.”

He cocked a brow and tilted his head, his eyes filled with mild disgust. “Is it?”

Steve flicked through the files in his hand and licked whipped cream from his fingers. “He’s happy. Leave him be.”

“He’s a dumbass.”

“They both are.” Natasha interjected from behind them, wiping sweat from her brow and pulling off her boxing gloves. She was monotone and her face was straight, but even the black widow couldn’t bite back the smile she had as she watched the girl she now thought of as a sister and the once murderous, unbeatable assassin arguing about blue shells on the sofa.

The first mission you had been assigned together was in a small town in the Midwest somewhere. There had been unusual sightings in an airfield in the middle of nowhere, and a fugitive from Germany had been spotted in the bars that bordered the little village. Tony didn’t want to send too many people and blow the cover, just your powers of manipulation and telekinesis to apprehend the subject, and Bucky for added strength and precision.

Initially Tony was hesitant on pairing the two of you together, but there was no denying that you both worked brilliantly together. You understood one another on a level that nobody else did.

Bucky didn’t get nervous before a mission. In fact, he hardly felt anything. He spent the hours in the jet preparing himself and his weapons, going over maps and plans until they were drilled in his brain. But as the two of you took off, you with your rose blossom lips and eye watering suit and soft laughter, Bucky felt a warmth coiling in his stomach.

Apprehension.

You were staying at a cheap hotel a few blocks from the airfield. Tony had thought of everything and booked the two of you in rooms the opposite end of the hall from each other. Three floors apart. Bucky had slipped the receptionist a twenty for the room next to yours. For protection, of course.

Working undercover could be mind numbingly boring. Hours sat in a parked car in the dead of night, freezing to the bone as you watched an apartment from the bushes, trailing a suspect for days on end - but any time with you was a blessing for Bucky, even if it was sat behind the wheel of a cheap car with painful seats and broken heating.

The mission was a quiet one at first, you’d spotted the subject and had been following him, but all he seemed to do was eat crappy diner food and watch hours of cartoons. You both remained a safe distance but you managed to eventually bug his apartment when he spent the evening at a strip club. Tony and Steve updated you often, they had intercepted his phone calls and learnt that he was sending out a shipment late one night, and the two of you needed to stop it before it reached the air.

The rain was torrential when the two of you left the hotel. You smiled secretly to yourself as you walked through the slick streets, noticing how Bucky always made sure you were on the side away from the road, and how he moved so that you never got your feet in puddles. You were in the middle of nowhere following a criminal who spent far too much time eating potato chips and watching Rick and Morty, and yet you struggled to think of a time when you had been more content.

It meant everything to you.

Staying up late to listen into his apartment, Bucky buying practically the entire vending machine, the two of you pigging out and talking about nothing. You had breakfast at diners and communicated at night through knocks on the wall. Whenever you were out and the air was ice cold, Bucky would always move in close to you, his arm brushing against yours, his body your own personal heater. He wanted nothing more in those moments then to pull you into him and warm you up some other way, but instead he kept his eyes fixed forward, and bit the inside of his cheek until it bled.

You arrived at the airfield at midnight. The moon was high and the sky was dark and you both had to crouch low to be avoided by the overhead lights. You saw the suspect speaking to someone on his phone, and not long after a large white van pulled up towards him, the driver getting out and opening the boot.

“That’s it.” Bucky said pointing at the wooden crates. His voice was right by your ear, and you tried to ignore the way you shivered.“You ready?”

You nodded, smiling up at him. “Always.”

What happened next was mostly a blur. The two of you kept your heads down and your hands on your weapons, the pounding of the rain disguising your footsteps. You made it across the tarmac with Bucky covering you, his eyes alert and prepared for any imposing danger. You lifted your hands, ready to snap your fingers and apprehend the man rooting around the boxes, but before you could even feel the warm buzz of your powers through your veins, six men leapt out from the back of the van, guns raised and smoking.

“Fuck. Fuck! It’s a set up.”

Without even a second thought, Bucky pushed you aside. His body totally covered your own, and he hissed and swore, firing back at the bullets rapidly charging at you. You swung your hands and fought back, sending out flickers of fire and air, setting one of them alight and watching as he howled in pain. Bucky shot at everyone he could, sharp pierces right in the skull, always one hundred percent accurate, but his brain was whirring a mile a minute. He was trying his best to keep his eyes on you, his only goal was to make sure you were safe.

It wasn’t like he thought you were weak - far from it. He had seen you out on the field, been knocked on his ass from the aftershock of your powers more times than he could count, and he knew he had no real reason to be so worried but that did nothing to stop the prickling feeling across his skin like a million tiny little flames at the thought of you getting hurt.

You were determined to keep him safe as well though.You tossed back bullets and threw your knife through the air, smiling as it slashed through on of them, leaving him crumpled and crying on the floor. The two of you worked well together, playing off of each other’s attacks and combining your skills to get as many of them down as you could. Right when the last man hit the floor, you exhaled, and Bucky allowed himself a soft smile, looking beautiful and bruised in the middle of a rainstorm.

“Are you alright?” You heard him say, but his voice faded into static in your ears. Behind him one of them had struggled to his feet, blood spurting out from his neck, his face filled with nothing but venom, his eyes wild and vicious. You didn’t even blink, thrusting your hands forward and sending a wave of power through the air.

But it was too late.

He had already lifted his gun, a ripple of bullets flying towards you both. You leapt in front of Bucky, pushing his head down and trying to soften the impact, but his hands curled painfully around your waist, dragging you onto the floor and under him. The bullets missed the two of you by centimetres, piercing into the airplane behind you both. Your surge of power had knocked the man back and he was down once again, his body now pale and lifeless. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, and Bucky’s. He was fully on top of you, warm and solid and absolutely seething, his chest rising and falling above your own.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Bucky...” You inhaled, trying to get him to calm down and look at you but he merely shook his head, his body vibrating blood red.

“No. We’re leaving. Now.”

———————————————————-

After the ambush, it was too risky to return to the hotel, and so Steve sent out coordinates for a safe house an hour away. The ride there was completely silent. You didn’t even try to speak or diffuse the tension, you could practically feel Bucky’s anger, and the steering wheel had even started to bend from his grip.

The safe house was a small cottage. The only heat was from a tiny wood burner in the lounge, and the only food on the shelves were tinned peaches and cans of custard. Everything was oddly cosy. Pink knitted throws and round plush cushions and mismatched sofas, dried lavender tied to the wall and exposed brick and white, ceramic milk jugs. In any other circumstance you would have been happy to spend the night, but Bucky’s sour mood was quick to dim your spark.

You sighed as he threw his duffel bag onto the table, angrily heading to the sink and twisting the tab, exhaling loudly at the thin dribble of water that came out.

“Bucky.” You started to say, but he held his hand up as a warning.

“No.”

“Yes!” You snapped, needing him to understand you. “You have to listen to me.”

He dismissed you, too overcome with annoyance to even process your words. You could have died tonight, and you were acting as though it didn’t matter. “You were a goddamn idiot out there.”

“No I wasn’t!”

He slapped his hand on the wooden counter, a slap ringing through the small room.“You jumped in front of a bullet -“

“You almost got shot Bucky!”

“You almost got shot.”

“It was what was best for the mission.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the mission! I only care about you.”

“What?” Your voice was soft. A whisper. You could hear everything around you, feel him before he even stepped forward. Your breathing was shaky, adrenaline spiking through your body. The man you were in love with looking at you desperately and longingly, as though there was a physical ache inside of him.

He shrugged, because what else was there to say? He was looking deep into your own eyes, wanting to drown in them. His face was stern and hard and he was pissed, and yet, strangely, none of what had happened seemed to matter. He stepped towards you, his gaze running across your figure, looking for any cuts or bruises one of those fuckers might have left on you.

“Are you hurt?” He said finally, his face millimetres from your own.

“No.”

“Good.”

He kissed you. His hands went up and into your hair, his chest pressed against yours, his lips were warm and soft and hungry, ready to devour the one thing he had wanted since the very first time he laid eyes on you. You melted into his touch and he smiled. The kiss got more intense, teeth clashing and hands under sweaters and his body rolling against yours. You moaned in his mouth and he bit your lip and your pulses synced and raced and leapt. This was six months of pure longing and frustration and the need to portray everything that had gone unsaid for far too long.

It wasn’t long before you ended up on the floor. You were both too greedy and touch starved to even stop or make your way upstairs, you both needed the other like air, like addicts desperate for another hit. His lips were all over every bit of skin he could find, you lasted like sweat and cinnamon and vanilla and he swore he would give up everything he had if he got to feel you like this, whining and writhing and grabbing him, tugging him closer and kissing him like an angelic little devil.

He had once been a Casanova. He had once made ladies swoon and mothers blush and fathers clench their fists. Then he had been shattered, rebuilt in a way that wasn’t quite right, his body used for torture rather than pleasure. And yet, with you, the rain pelting the windows and your bodies intertwined and your lips tasting like summer strawberries and everything that he had ever dreamed of - he felt whole, for the first time in a long time. The noises you made were sinful, and his thoughts were nothing but you,you,you, the girl he had fallen in love with through the sounds in the wall and with the flowers on the roof, the girl that occupied his brain more than anything else.

Everything was too much and not enough, his head was buried in your neck, your legs were around his waist, pulling him tighter, urging him to go deeper. He had dreamt of this moment for a long time. He had imagined a candle lit dinner and red roses and awkward touches and itchy dress shirts, he wanted everything to be perfect, because you deserved the world. But in the living room of a safe house in the middle of nowhere, covered in sweat and blood and surrounded by thunder and clashing furniture seemed oddly magical for a couple with roots like yours.

After, you were cradled in the crook of his arm, with your hair splayed across his bare chest. Bucky was having a hard time controlling his rapid pulse and heavy breathing because holy shit he had just slept with the girl of his dreams, but one look at you under the moonlight looking ethereal and exhausted and everything else just dissolved into wisps or smoke.

He wanted to tell you in a better way, but he just couldn’t keep it in any longer. His brain was fizzled with pleasure and dizzy with euphoria, and he just wanted, needed you to know everything.

“I’m in love with you. I have been since I first saw you.”

You froze. After a beat, you buried your face into the flesh of his chest, your soft laughter tickling his abdomen, his fingers trailing loosely across your spine. You smiled like a child, looking up at him with big eyes and heart shaped lips.

“God. We’re both idiots. I’m so in love with you too, Buck.”

He grinned, and he felt like his heart might tear in two.

—————————————————————-

You arrived back at the compound with interlocked fingers and matching grins and Sam nearly collapsed with relief. Tony almost went into cardiac arrest.

For the first time in fifty years, happiness followed Bucky wherever he went. Things were easy, light. You were his. You crawled into his arms at the end of a bad day and you laughed into his shoulder and you held his hand and kissed him and killed him and resurrected him all at the same time. He had never felt home in this modern world, and now he looked forward to each day and whatever strange and inane adventure the two of you would end up on. The anvil that had been crushing his heart for so long had started to lighten, and he owed it all to you.

Still, there were hard days. When he woke up slick with sweat with eyes wider than the moon and an urge to wrap his hands around something, or when you thought of the past and became consumed by the memories, tears falling down your face before you could stop them. He got jealous, and he had multiple stern talks with Steve about “not threatening the interns just because they speak to your girlfriend,” you could be stubborn, take on more than you needed, return from a mission with a limp you tried to hide, one that eventually led to an argument about your reckless choices. But nothing ever lasted more than a day. You were always there for one another, with open arms and gentle smiles and the unconditional love that people would kill for.

He had been in a million different situations where he felt like he was drowning. Like something was pulling him under the depths, crushing his lungs and shattering his oesophagus. But nothing compared to how he felt around you. Nothing could match the way you consumed him completely. the electricity that coursed through his veins when your fingers brushed against his, there was nothing quite like the way his heartbeat would slow when you were around, the way that he suddenly felt warm and full whenever you laughed.

He had spent so long alone. He had spent so many years fighting a war he never signed up for, and he was exhausted. He was starved of attention but terrified of exposing himself, and he lived with a chain link fence around his heart. Your soft voice so soothing, the sweetness in your eyes and the innocent bat of your lashes disarmed him better than any soldier ever could. There was something about you - something magnetic, magical.

Your sweetness went straight to his brain. One look at you and his mind dizzied, a sugar rush that only you gave him.

Whenever somebody asked where he was from, he thought partly of Brooklyn, of his mother and Steve, of cobbled streets and dog tags and ink stained newspapers. He thought of darkness. Of being moulded and reshaped deep down in the depths of bad places, of iron and rust and metal, his hands coated in blood.

But mostly, he thought of you. Safe and warm and sweet and so good. How expensive mattresses and dim candles and hot chocolate didn’t make him feel half the way that you did. How you grounded him, calmed him, made everything feel light and coated in sunshine when he had spent so goddamn long being frozen.

So when somebody asked where he was from, he thought of you, because you were home.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel imagine #bucky barnes x reader #marvel oneshot #sebastian stan imagine #orionwrites

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sloppy-butcher · 4 years

Note

Hcs Caleb Quinn and The Hillbilly (idk his name im sorry) with a s/o with a soft-southern voice and their like extremely sweet and too nice shbsjsnssn

his name is Max Thompson Jr. and he is my son.

this will be the first time i write for Caleb and i am here for it!!!! i’ve been binging all his other content mainly from @yeehawitstheplague and @dead-by-deathslinger (check them out if you crave more cowboi)

thank you so much for the ask! i absolutely LOVE writing for Max <3 he is below the cut cause its long again

HeadCanons for The Deathslinger (Caleb Quinn) and The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.) with Southern-accented S/O

The Deathslinger (Caleb Quinn)

Caleb had spent his whole childhood life trying to imitate the accent of old. He had watched his dad be berated and mocked for his Irish accent and was taught early on that if he wanted to be taken seriously, Caleb had to talk like the men who owned the world, the businessmen. So Caleb practiced, day-in day-out, to hide away his roots as an Irish man, covering all his traits with thick and smoky Southern Accent. Besides that he had never really given it any thought, sometimes an odd word would slip out but those who heard it would be persuaded to never mention it.

However, when Caleb first hears you speak in that gentle accent he is immediately enchanted. To him it was like honey, slow and warm, sugary, and sickly. He couldn’t get enough. He’d deliberately ask you to say certain words, chuckling every time you humored him. He had never heard that way of speaking before, everyone he had ever met spoke in very broken and slurred speech. You were articulated, smarter than anyone else he had ever known, and rolled the accent over your tongue with ease. Oh, how he liked it.

In any other situation, Caleb is, by all means, not a nickname kinda guy. Sure he’d accept the odd ‘honey’ or ‘baby’ directed to him from his partner but other than that he always remained just Caleb. That was until you showed up. It sort of just... slipped out one day. You had accidentally called him ‘Darlin’ ’. Slowly Caleb turned around to face you, his silver eyes tearing away from the maintenance work on his gun and glided their way over to you frozen form. You stood there, mouth agape and mind wheeling. Oh God, he was gonna be upset with you. “I-I’m so sorry Caleb. I didn’t mean to-”.

“Ain't no one ever called me darlin’ before,” Caleb's voice was soft barely above a whisper. It was true, he had heard many lovers call each other that nickname, a foreign word to his lips and ears. And the way you said it, so deep with love that it almost hurt to hear it. You felt your tension release as the cowboy gave off no aura of hostility or displeasure. Only a deep sense of melancholy. You wanted to go to him, to reach out and take his hand in yours. Your heart ached for his burdened sadness. “You are my darlin’ “, you said again edging closer to his workbench. He hung his head, turning his attention away. Quickly you were by his side, a small hands beneath his chin pulling his head up to yours, “You are my darlin’. My baby! My Caleb.” He seemed fixated on your desperate eyes searching them wholly for something. He found comfort in your eyes and a warm smile. He placed a hand on your shoulder and released a low laugh. “I like that.” Suddenly he pulled you into his lap wrapping his long arms around you in ease and causing you to let out a yelp of surprise. He laughed even more at your noise. In your close proximity, you managed to see the full extent of your effect on him. He longed for deep affection and acceptance and even though it was only a word, it was such a kind word. You cupped his cheeks in your palms, careful not to hurt his crooked jaw and fragile broken skin. A small smile crept across your lips and your eyes lowered as you felt heat bleed into your face. “My darlin’.” Caleb, after a moment of staring, leaned into your embrace and a rumble erupted from his chest. He loved that.

The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.)

To be completely dead honest Max would really dislike your accent. It reminded him of the shadows from under the door, the voices of the man and woman who sometimes fed him and always hurt him when they caught sight of his figure. He did not like it at all. Hearing you speak would ignite a deeply buried fear in his chest which often resulted in him lashing out and killing or hurting everyone around him. Forgive him, he does not know what this feeling is nor does he know how to deal with it in a health and non-destructive manner.

It would take a long time to get Max to trust you. To hear your voice and accept that it was you speaking and not the ghosts of his past. Because of reluctance to hear you speak the beginning of your relationship would have started from silence. You’d have to use gestures and body language. Max would be attracted to your kindness and patience and eventually, he’d be comfortable enough to let you touch him.

When you do start speaking to him, you would have to say short and quiet sentences. He’d stare you, feverishly watching your mouth move as the words slipped out. He’d have to make the connection between you and the sound, understand that it wasn’t the shadow people talking but you. And you weren’t going to hurt him. Once he even asked (well, gestured) if he could touch you as you spoke to him. He crouched in front of you, a hesitant hand hovering around your lips. You said something and he tilted his head, coarse fingers reaching out and tracing your mouth. ‘So soft,’ he thought. After a moment he blinked and snapped his attention to your eyes, as soft and kind as ever. There was no hurt from you, no hate or fear. Just odd and persistent patience.

Max would never be 100% okay with your accent. There would be bad days and good days but he was trying. And that's all that mattered really.

His favorite thing to do was have you call him “Darlin’ or anything sweet. He loved the way the nicknames rolled off your tongue and made his belly feel warm. It was such sweet words, a combination of all the good things you were. And the fact that is was directed at him made it even more special to him. He’d blush profusely whenever you called him that, sharply turning his head away from you and burying his face in his hands.

Once you even called him “Sweetheart~” and Max nearly lost it. It was so sudden, so gentle, and full of affection that Max was stuck in a stupor for a moment. From then on whenever Max would hug you, draping his larger body over yours, he would try to rumble his own rendition of the word. “SeeHaar,” he’d growl in his throat. You’d giggle. It was an endearing effort, one that was so innocent and pure that it didn't matter if it made sense or not. He’d take joy from your reaction to his word, squeezing you tighter in his arm until you had to ask him to let you breathe.

#max pls interact with me #i alos love the cowboy #i have read SOOO much shit for him it aint even funny #its an addiction #dbd headcanons #dbd x reader #dbd the deathslinger x reader #the deathslinger x reader #dbd caleb quinn #dbd the hillbilly x reader #max thompson jr x reader

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dontshouta · 5 years

Text

elegant obscenities

summery: Your tattoo session which you’ve had scheduled for months has finally arrived and you finally get to meet the man everyone’s speaking so highly of. pairing: tattoo artist!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 3,799 note: modern au! also,, this is ns*fw so please… if ur not into that... just look away alsoalso, my tattoo knowledge is very limited.. im goin based on what ive seen on t.v or what ive read.. soo sorry if anythings wrong lol i dont have the heart to do extensive research on it atm but i hope you enjoy nonetheless

To say you were excited was a massive understatement. You felt like your heart was gonna burst from how quickly it was beating, your stomach felt like the den of a thousand butterflies, and yet you couldn’t wipe the huge smile plastered on your face. Today, you were going to see what all the fuss was about. Today, you were getting your first tattoo from the King of Tattoos himself-- Bakugou Katsuki. Just the mere thought of it shot a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You’ve heard so many reviews on this guy, you’ve seen his beautiful works on yelp, you’ve seen the clean and cut format of the parlor’s website- he was no joke. Though, his reputation seemed flawless, people did seem to not like his attitude. But of course, that would be ultimately overlooked, his work was just that good.

As excited you were, you were equally nervous. You didn’t know if you could sit through an hour session of what could possibly be him yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs. Or at least, that’s what some people have claimed to have happened. You wanted to remain optimistic though, and decided not showing up would be a waste of everyone’s time.

So, with determination and excitement fueling your resolve, you entered the tattoo parlor. You were greeted by an eager redhead, who smiled when you told him of your appointment.

“Oh yeah! Well, Y/N, if you could read over these papers and sign ‘em, Bakugou’ll be ready for you when your done!”

You took the clipboard with a smile and sat down. For a moment, you just stared at the words, not really reading them and letting the paper blur. You only hesitated for a moment, before grabbing the pen and firmly filling out the forms. You couldn’t possibly back out now, you’ve waited months for this opportunity! Just because some reviews said he could be a scary guy, psh, from what you’ve seen from the redhead, he couldn’t possibly be that bad, right? Just as you signed your last signature, someone cursed at the end of the hall.

“Shitty-hair! Is that client here yet?! I’m not gonna fuckin’ wait all damn day!”

You froze in your seat, your eyes watching the redhead as he rolled his eyes.

“She’s here, dude, chill.”

You gulped, pen shaking in your hand as you stared at the papers again. Was this guy serious? He sounds like he could up and kill me with his tattoo gun! The redhead laughed, taking in your pale figure and offering a calming smile. You relaxed the slightest bit.

“Ah, don’t mind him. He’s all bark and no bite, you’ll be fine. It’s just a tattoo after all!” He laughed again, trying to get you to ease out of your frightened position. “Are you done filling those out? If you could hand me your I.D you’ll be all set!”

You nodded mutely, handing him your I.D and clipboard. His reassurances should’ve placated you but why were you so damn tense? Was the reality of getting a tattoo settling into your bones and immobilizing you? You let out a deep sigh, deciding it’s now or never, hostile artist or not, he still was the best of the best.

The redhead, Kirishima he said was his name, handed you back your I.D and beckoned you to follow him down the hall. The closer you got to the room, the quicker your heart beat. You were so nervous, so excited, you didn’t know what to do with the plethora of emotions surrounding you. With a deep breath, you entered the room behind Kirishima.

The room was covered in art and designs of the past on the walls, fat binders lining bookshelves and a desk spilling over with sketches and unfinished line work. You could tell just from the room alone the experience Bakugou’s had. The tattoo table sat in the corner, laughing at your hesitance, which almost had you running for the hills at the mere sight of it. The air smelt sterile, and you took a deep breath again to try and calm your jolting nerves. Just as you did, the air caught in your throat when you finally laid eyes on your tattoo artist. His eyes were an angry red, brows set in a frown as he appraised your form. You were frozen at the door, not quite able to tear your eyes away. No one mentioned anything about how hot he was! Feeling very deceived by the reviews online, you shimmied yourself fully into the room, all the while staring at the famed Bakugou Katsuki.

“Took you long enough.” He grumbled with a click of his tongue, strong, impossibly tattooed arms crossed over a built torso. He wore a black tank top, not leaving much to the imagination and wore watching black jeans, which hung delectably low on his hips. Now you weren’t sure if you could sit in the same room as him for a completely different reason.

Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Dude, she’s early. Impatience is so not manly.” He huffed, walking out of the room, giving you a thumbs up and smile on the way out.

Now you were left alone. With an insanely attractive man whose hands and eyes were going to be all over you for the next hour. Your earlier hesitance in the matter all but withered away and was replaced with a newfound excitement.

You waved awkwardly, smiling slightly. “Um, hi, I’m Y/N! I’ve heard so many great things about you!” You greeted, hoping you didn’t seem overly eager. Now with your resolve restored tenfold, you wanted to get off on the right foot. His temper still looming over your head dangerously.

He clicked his tongue again, eyes roaming over your figure. “You better have, I don’t run this fuckin’ business for nothin’.” He mumbled, motioning for you to sit at that tattoo table while he prepared.

You watched him eagerly, eyes following where he slapped on his latex gloves. You drank in the way his nimble fingers worked with his equipment, sending you head reeling from thoughts of what else they could do. Goodness, this is embarrassing. Get yourself together, Y/N! You can’t be getting yourself all hot and bothered, this is a professional environment! And with that, you averted your eyes and focused them on your twiddling thumbs.

“So’re you gonna take your pants off or what?” He finally asked, eyes slanting in passive anger at you.

“Wh- huh?!” You exclaimed, almost falling off the table in pure shock. Take off my pants?? Has he noticed my staring? Wait- can he read my thoughts?!

“I can’t tattoo your thigh over you pants, you know. Idiot, you should’ve worn shorts or somethin’.” His voice was laced with superiority as he chastised you, making your thighs clench unconsciously. You were not going to survive this session.

With flaming cheeks, you stood from the table, hands poised over the button of your jeans.

“R-Right.. Well um, would.. Would you mind turning around or something?” You asked quietly, the blush on your cheeks traveling to the rest of your face as you stared into his red eyes. Which he rolled.

“I’m gonna see you half naked anyway, just take your pants off so we can get this shit over with.” He commanded, a brow raised haughtily as he sat on the stool next to the table.

Now, you really didn’t think this through. You’d hoped he’d find you half naked in different circumstances, but here you were, jeans pooling around your ankles in contempt while the flush seemed to travel throughout the rest of your body. How could you forget that you wanted this stupid tattoo on your thigh? At first, you didn’t think anything of it, believing you wouldn’t be attracted to your artist. Fate had other plans though, and made your artist the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

You stepped out of your jeans, mumbling begrudgingly as you scooped the mass of fabric from the ground. Once you straightened up, you made eye contact with Bakugou. For a split second, it looked like he was staring at you ass. If you were bolder you might’ve said something like “Like what you see?” but instead, you shook your head, finding the notion preposterous as you sat back onto the table with curses being muttered under your breath.

“It ain’t my fault you wanted the damn tattoo on your thigh, no need to get all bitchy with me.” That comment might’ve brought down his attractiveness to you by about one percent, so any response that you had died in your throat once he started cleaning the exposed area on your thigh. Your lips were zipped tight, trying your absolute best and then some to keep any peep from coming out of your mouth.

The breath that had been stuck in your chest finally escaped from your body once Bakugou pulled away, reaching for the readied transfer paper. You eyes softened at the sight of the design of your tattoo, heart fluttering at the way Bakugou had rendered it.

“It looks beautiful.” You whispered, smile blossoming on your face as he applied the transfer to your thigh, momentarily forgetting your qualms about the damn artist’s proximity.

He hummed in response, clearly denoting an I know in his wake as he removed the transfer paper. “Look in the mirror and tell me it looks good.” He commanded, his tone clearly indicating he already knows it looks good. Probably just wants me to stroke his ego some more.

You got up anyway, not wanting to disobey him, and checked out the art that was going to be permanently etched into you skin in an hour’s time. “It’s perfect.” You breathed, checking yourself out in the mirror with renewed excitement. When you turned back, Bakugou’s eyes flickered up from your thigh to your eyes. He cleared his throat, motioning you to sit back on the table with a flick of his wrist.

“Duh, I strive for nothin’ but perfection.” He said, gloved hands patting the table impatiently.

Was that… a blush on his cheeks? Your heart rate accelerated, smile growing as you skipped back onto the table. “I don’t doubt it, Bakugou! Alright, now tat me up!” You were giggling happily, legs spread onto the table before the young artist, which, unbeknownst to you, had his heart rate going a mile a minute.

“Yeah, yeah.”

With that, he leaned into you inner thigh, one hand gripping onto the soft flesh while the other poised the tattoo gun over it.

“Brace yourself, it ain’t the most comfortable feeling in the world.” He warned, barely giving you any time to actually do so before getting to work.

A gasp escaped from your lips once you felt the tattoo gun connect with your skin, not necessarily in pain but to your horror, in pleasure. You bit your lip, trying to seem nonchalant but in all reality, heat was rushing to your core and you started to feel your body temperature rise considerably. You couldn’t really blame yourself, an attractive man’s face was inches from your barely concealed vagina while he gripped your thigh. How could you not get turned on? What was really going through your head though, was how you were going to distract yourself. You couldn’t possibly think about him and only him this entire time, right? He’d probably catch on and kick you out or something. You wouldn’t be able to stand the embarrassment that would come with that.

While you did try to keep your mind occupied, you couldn’t help but watch the artist at work. His tongue slightly poked out his lips every now and then. Sometimes he’d blow out a breath which would hit your thigh deliciously and send you head spinning. He’d squeeze your thigh and maneuver it this way and that to get a better angle. Every little thing had your heart racing, your thighs needing to clench, your core needing some damn friction. You were, to put it lightly, going fucking insane.

Bakugou suddenly pulled back, his face screwed up in an expression you couldn’t place. An agitated groan escaped his lips while he made aggressive eye contact with you.

“Wh- ar-are you done-?!” Your eyes flickered to the unfinished tattoo, your expression turning confused when you met his eyes again. “What-?”

He shoved himself onto you, pupils blown wide with arousal. “You know what you’re doin’, huh? Don’t play dumb with me you’ve been acting like this since you walked in here.. You know how hard it is to fucking concentrate when I can just smell how wet you are? Huh?” He all but growled, eyes glued to yours while his large hands gripped your waist possessively.

You took in a shaky breath, breaking eye contact to watch his body hover impossibly close to yours. A sweat had built around Bakugou’s temples, body slightly shaking with restraint as he gathered your next reaction.

“Fuck.. you can’t blame me, can you?!” You yelled, hands gripping onto his strong biceps. “You’re over here gripping on my thigh and breathing on my coochie, how the fuck am I supposed to react?”

Your response shocked him, but was enough to confirm any suspicions he had and he immediately clashed his lips with yours. You melted instantly, hands roaming up to grip at his sandy hair roughly. Teeth clashed, tongues melded and fought for dominance, breath coming in hot and heavy as your bodies melted into each other. Bakugou was already hard against your thigh, member pulsing through his jeans and prodding closer and closer to your dripping core.

You moved to wrap your exposed legs around his waist but was shoved roughly back onto the table, Bakugou breaking the heated kiss and roaming down. His hands left a trail of fire on your exposed skin, causing small, broken mewls to slip to your lips while he pushed your top over your breasts, his eyes drinking in your heated form greedily.

“Fuck baby you look so good like this. I’ve barely even touched you and you already look fucked out, all for me huh?” He purred obscenities into your ear, a shiver wracking through your body at his words. His hands barely skimmed over your bra, your breath held in anticipation as he slowed his rough mannerisms to admire your breathless body. A low growl emitted from the back of his throat, his hands pushing your bra down to expose your chest, your nipples hardening immediately in the crisp air. Deft, tattooed fingers toyed with your breasts, red eyes burning into your own as he watched you writhe underneath him, your legs rubbing together incessantly to try and gauge at least the tiniest amount of friction you could get.

You whined needily, fingers fisting into his hair as you tried to connect your barely concealed pelvis with his.

“Nuh, uh, baby girl I’m gonna need you to be patient, yeah? Can you be patient for me?” His tone was laced with such dominance you were rendered speechless, a nod of your head indicating you understood what he was implying.

“No, that ain’t gonna cut it sweetheart, use your fucking words or else I’m stoppin’ right here, when we’ve barely even gotten started.” His fingers gripped your chin, forcing your gaze onto his.

“Y-Yes, sir..?” You were hesitant with the addition of the title but a hum of approval resonated from the tattooed man that had you relaxing back into the table again. Your eyes watched his every move while he lowered himself closer to you, a feeling of desperation slowly gnawing at you. His hands roamed every inch of exposed skin, from the apples of your cheeks down to your pelvis, his fingers toying dangerously with the waistband of your delicate panties.

Just as you thought he was gonna grant you at least some relief, his fingers skimmed past the waistband completely, ignoring the removal of the tiny article of clothing and instead moving to push a tattooed finger against your core teasingly. A gasp escaped your lips, one of your hands gripping his bicep for dear life, the tiny amount of contact overwhelming you.

He chuckled dangerously, his face moving to hover over your clothed heat, his hot breath tickling your thighs.

“Oh, please, just fucking touch me, Bakugou.” You seethed, your patience growing incredibly thin. You wanted to reach for his wrist and just make him touch you yourself but you didn’t want to push your luck, having already yelled at the man already.

He laughed at your command, his hands moving to grip your hips while his tongue poked out of his mouth to gently prod at your panties. An eloquent oh fuck rolled out of your mouth, his hands gripping harder as his tongue lightly grazed over your clothed cunt.

“Is this what you wanted, princess?” He murmured against your wet panties, his eyes lazily gazing up at you. The sight of his face buried in between your legs had you shaking, the hands in his hair impossibly tightening while you tugged him closer to you.

“Bakugou, please, please, please, eat me out I can’t take it anymore, I want you to fuck me so-!” You cut yourself off with a hearty moan, his fingers snatching your underwear to the side and delving his tongue into dripping core. One of his hands massaged your hip, while the other snaked to toy with your entrance. You were already gasping for breath, legs spasming against his head while he dug himself deeper into you. His tongue laved other your clit, alternating between drawing lazy circles and sucking it hard. The juxtaposition of movements drove you mad, your head falling back against the table with your back arching, you hips bucking into his mouth greedily. His finger finally pushed into you, the combination of his thrusting finger and suckling lips pushing you further and further towards the edge.

All too soon, the friction was gone just as you felt your climax rush over you, causing a shriek of disapproval to sound from you. Your head was up in a flash to shoot a look of desperation to the teasing man. His gaze shook you to your very core, almost undoing you just then, with eyes completely clouded over with unadulterated lust. He smirked, bringing his soiled fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. A whine emitted from your throat, the display downright lewd and having you begging for more.

“Baku-”

“Call me Katsuki, darling.”

“Katsuki, please.”

And with that statement, his tank top was off. His pretty fingers worked to smoothly take off his belt and pants, the mere sounds of the rustling clothes bringing more excitement in between your legs. You crawled toward him, moving to help but he quickly pinned you back down onto the table.

“Now, now, let’s not get too hasty. I plan on fuckin’ that pretty pussy of yours real good, yeah? Don’t you worry that pretty little fuckin’ head of yours.”

Bakugou picked you up with ease, flipping you around and bending you over so your ass was up in the air for him to lay a resounding smack onto it. He hummed while you whined desperately, his abusing hand rubbing the skin immediately to soothe the reddening cheek. You legs felt wobbly, barely able to keep yourself up for him. He was rubbed languid strokes against his angry cock, angling it towards your entrance and prodding at it coyly. He tapped the appendage against your folds, chuckling as your hips bucked up against him. A smirk played on his lips, his eyes dark and dangerous as he started to shift his hips forwards to meet yours. You watched the muscles in his beautifully inked stomach flex as he moved, the feeling of slowly being filled just too good.

Once he was fully inside you, you gasped hotly, trying to accustom yourself to the sensation of being so thoroughly stretched out. His eyes watched attentively, flickering from your stretched hole and to your face. He moved his hips back tortuously slow, setting a pace so agonizingly good that you could barely open you mouth without moaning desperately.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You half-sobbed, clinging to the table for dear life as he rocked into you. He moved to hide his face against the back of your neck, latching onto the juncture of her shoulder and throat in a way that made you sure he would leave a mark. The feeling was almost too much– the slow drag of his cock inside you, the ministrations of his lips, teeth and tongue on your shoulder, the quiet and low growls leaving his perfect lips– you were done for.

His large hands gripped your ass, alternating from hard gropes to rough slaps that resounded about the room and arousing you tenfold. Broken moans fled your lips, your fingernails scratching at the table hopelessly. His cock pulsed within you as he quickened his pace abruptly, his hand fisting into your hair and forcing your back to arch up into him. You cried out in pure glee, your breasts bouncing while he pounded mercilessly into you.

His hands held your hips in a bruising grip, the pain mixing deliciously with the absolute pleasure that was Bakugou’s pace. His lips were muttering obscenities into your ear, alternating from suckling your earlobe in between his teeth and littering your neck with pretty purple bruises. You have ascended, your mind gone due to this tattoo artist’s godly dick.

You were sputtering, moans never ceasing to escape from your lips as you tried your best to keep up with his pace, your body becoming hotter and hotter with every deep thrust. You felt your climax building, your walls clenching around his thick cock, causing him to curse into your ear.

His unoccupied hand snaking around your waist to rub quick circles into your clit, sending your body into overdrive and making you see stars.

“I’m go-gonna- oh my goodness- I’m gonna f-fucking come-!” Your body was on fire, your mind short-circuiting with the amount of pleasure wracking your body as you finally came. Your moans came louder with it, your body spasming against his still pistoning cock.

He came soon after, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he rode out his high within your overstimulated walls. Bakugou released your hair, your body falling limply onto the tattoo table. You were gasping for breath, his seed pooling out of your pussy and onto the table. His fingers circled your folds and gathered the come from it, holding them out in front of your lips.

“Now, be a good girl and swallow my cum, huh, princess?”

#i hope this is like... GOOD #i spent like two days on this #mainly bc im a pro procrastinator #ANYWAY #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #ns*fw

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

Note

So from what I’ve read (from your works), Haru and Kaito are low key dating. I was wondering if you, dear author, could give us some head canons or maybe a scenario of how they started dating. I love your AU and your works❤️

Sorry for the delay! I was trying to elaborate a cute scenario at least for these two

Btw thanks for the help @mistysandwichfeather

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Always on his life he kept seing his parents affection towards each other, subtle or not.

As a toddler he would always point it out how gross it was to seing his father sneak a kiss on his mother, leaving him a but jealous since he was VERY attached to his mom.

But when the years went by, he saw that this was quite normal. Despite his dad being a mysophobic and clean freak, he always joked about hiw he reminded him of one of his favorite characters and every time Chisski would scowl at his son, completely offended.

Many times Kaito doubted that his father really loved his mother due to his personality... but now he noticed how wrong was he.

Dad was brute, bold and even acting like a soulless being in front of others, especially strangers; Pops and uncle Kurono he was a but more vanilla but he never once saw him smilling or not spilling a sarcastic or even rude comment at them.

With mom though? God how he changed. He had that soft and little dpark on his eyes whenever he only looked at her, bathed her in gifts even despite her protests. Even having his mysophobia, always checking his family to see if they did their basic cleaning, he would always touch you without a second thought.

Pops and uncle Kurono often sayed that she kept him 'grounded'. His grandfather always letting clear that (Y/n) saved Kai from a possible dark path on his life, that she was his Yin and Chisaki was her Yang.

He snickered often at that, remind that his parents had matching hidden necklaces with those symbols. Not believing that such a thing was possible to even happen again.

His parents were a exception. His mom and dad, even despite being completely opposities, they were together and still had that same fire on their relationship.

So much as a proof that he had a little sister later....

But... now? As he looked at his childhood friend simply talking about how her father, his godparent, had teached her how to use a gun just yesterday, he noticed something... different spreading through his chest.

He felt... weird per see. Haru was just talking for God's sake, yet he was paying attention he felt more attracted by the way her eyes lifted up.

He made the mistake of going to talk with his father about it, not mentioning still who it was that made him feel like that.

Chisaki just stopped abruptly his reading as he let the taxes on his hands fall on his desk.

"... You're sick." He answered, making Kaito freeze yet emit a cinfused as fuck sound, and a bit offended.

"You've got sick. The same illness that I got some years ago." He said nonchalantly while staring at his son numbly.

"What the hell dead? No, im not." He answered with the same expression, before he open his mouth on a 'O' shape when Chisaki sighed in irritation and showed his son the ring that was on his hand.

Shit. That illness.

It couldn't be. Haru was his childhood friend as long as he could remember. And the comments of buying things for her coming from his father didn't helped one bit.

He found himself completely lost. But still went to talk with his mother, someone who could talk feelings better than his dad for sure.

The laughter she gave when he told what his dad commented about the illness had eased him up a bit. His mother was always not only his but the sorce of comfort for the Chisakis in general. His sister, his father....

Although for his dismay she had agreed with his dad. He was in love.

"Dear gosh my soldier even with dealing with feelings you are the spitting image of your dad!" She giggled while carresing his dark brow looks.

"Don't say that mom. Please." He grimaced.

He wasn't that similiar with his father.

Now, with both his parents opinion... he needed to prove that. He needed to be sure he truly was feeling those strange yet suffocating feelings his mom and dad had told him about.

Haru was just talking about the aim of a gun or something about how she was practicing parkour and almost scared the shit out of her dad... before he brought his hand to her chin, noticing the sudden blush on her cheeks appearing at his action.

"U-uh... Kaito-kun?" She asked with uncertain.

She had developed a huge damn crush with the boss's son. Even dsring to talk about it with her auntie and Kin... but never really had the courage of saying to the boy himself.

He squinted his eyes a bit as he seened to examinate her face with caution... before he slowly aproached and placed his lips over hers.

The joilt of electricity he felt was strong. Really strong. But yet... good. He worried for a second when Haru had gasped but soon melted, bringing caustiously her arms to wrap around his neck.

He grunted when she accidentally gripped abit too tight but had awkwardly used his free arm to envelop her midsection while his hand was still on her chin.

When both separated Haru was just as red as a rose, taking her arms off from Kaito to cover her mouth as she started to make scream on then.

"... Dramatic." He pointed out numbly as she looked at him with wide eyes.

"W-what was that for?!"

"Is true." He breathed out, smirking a bit after before looking at Haru "I am in love with you. Forgive me for taking too long to notice Haru."

She gagged, takinga few minutes to breath in and out to regain her composure. With a embarrased smile she returned to look at those soft yet serious (E/c).

"Really?"

"Yeah. Its been months already that I'm trying to figure it out." He said while bringing a hand to scract the back of his neck. "Might as well talk with uncle about me wanting to be your partner or else he will shoot me." He snickered at Haru's laugh.

"You bet. But I guess I am in the more prejudicial side. After all you are the son of Overhaul, auntie (Y/n) and Kin already know but your father might be a-"

"Wait wait. Hang on" he lifted his hands up for her to stop as his face looked normal but his eyes spotted how hotrified he was "My mom and sister knows about this?"

"I might have told them that I had a crush on you when I was 10?" She shrugged with a uncaring expression.

"... you caved my grave woman."

Bonus:

You and Pops dropped the cups of tea you both had in your hands while Kai and Hari's eyes almost fell fron the way they had widen. All the adults with their jaws wide open while Kin yelped in joy and went to give her sis sis a hug.

"...Uh. saying something would be... apreaciated?" Kaito spoked with worry on his voice at seing the reaction of his parents while Haru looked at her father with worry as well.

Suddenly you yelled 'YES!' In joy laughing while Pops got up from his own seat with chuckles saying something about that they had won... while Kurono and chisaku were simply frozen.

"Huh?" The both young teenagers spoked in confusion, not getting why the elder and the woman were celebrating about.

"To explain for both of you, we all made a bet if you teo love birds were going to be together or not." Pops sayed while making his way to get a broom to clean the mess while chuckling.

Luckily there wasn't any tea on those cups....

"And we won!" You sayed in pure joy, giggling at your husband's pretified expression along with his childhood friend.

"So as I can probably tell uncle and dad betted that we weren't going to end up dating?" Kaito sayed, genuily scared and worried for the mans he was usually so used to seing calm and collected with wide eyes.

"... why of all the people it had to be block head's brat..?" Kai suddenly muttered, only you and Chrono were able to hear it though.... the comment making Hari snap out of his shock.

"What was THAT supposed to mean?" He said with a frow, not even bothering with the death glare Chisaki sended him.

"You know what I meant. Chronostasis."

"Stop with that attitude both of you. Accelt that both lost." Pops sayed right after he came back, accepting your offer to help with a smile.

Kaito and Haru changed looks... did they had caused the third war without thinking?

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha ocs #kaito and kin #kaito chisaki #kin chisaki #haru kurono #my writing #zuffer writingz

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hollyxqx · 4 years

Text

just business // shownu // 04

↪ PAIRING: Reader / Shownu ↪ SUMMARY: Y/N’s mysterious new neighbour has definitely caught your eye. He’s quiet but the two of strike up an unlikely friendship. He doesn’t speak about his work to you and you don’t ask, but when his job puts your life in danger questions have to be answered once and for all.

↪ WARNINGS: non-con kissing/wonho is a creep im sorry/blood/violence/mentions of drug dealing/guns

Y/N POV

Your eyes fluttered open and immediately the pain in your head screamed at you. It was dark and you were disorientated, mind foggy and body aching. The side of your head felt wet and you reached up to touch it but your hands were tied together. The reality of your situation set in and you remembered with horror what had happened to you.

You had no idea how much time had passed. Looking around you analysed the room you were in. It looked like a basement, with stairs in the far right corner leading up. You were on a bed in the corner wrists and ankles tied together but at least you were alone. Groaning in pain, you tried to sit up, willing your body to listen to you.

An image of the stranger who hit you flashed in your mind and you wondered if he was here as well. Then Kihyun and the bar popped into your mind. Would he notice something had happened? Would he notice you were gone? How could anyone find you if you didn't even know where you were?

Suddenly, the door to the basement opened, startling you. Light flooded into the dark room and your eyes took a second to adjust. The silhouette of a man stood in the doorway. "Ah, princess, you're awake." A voice said and you instantly recognised it as the man who had captured you. He strut down the stairs and to your dismay you saw he was smiling. Out of instinct you cowered, bringing your tied hands up to your chest. "Don't be scared, sleeping beauty." He laughed.

You could do nothing but watch as he moved towards you. He roughly grabbed you by the wrists, bringing you to your feet. To your surprise he lifted you with ease and threw you over his shoulder, as if you weighed nothing. His strength was intimidating. "Where are you taking me?" You cried before you could stop yourself.

"You're going to meet someone important." He stated, making his way up the stairs. You struggled against him but he only gripped you tighter. "You're a feisty baby aren't you?" He laughed again and you felt terror pool in your stomach. He seemed to be enjoying this.

From the awkward angle you couldn't see where he was taking you, just the hardwood of the floor. After a few moments you could hear voices and you knew you were close to whatever destination he had planned. He swung open a door and before you could blink you were thrown on top of a sofa. You yelped in surprise.

"This is the bitch he's fucking?" Someone said with a laugh. Your eyes landed on the source of the voice, a very tall slender man stood leaning casually against the wall, twirling a knife in his hands. "Thought he'd have better taste than that." He scoffed and rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"I kind of like her." Your captor said, licking his lips at you. The way he looked at you made your breath catch and not in a good way. He looked at you like you were his last meal.

"You would, Wonho." The tall man replied. He looked almost bored by the situation. You barely breathed as you quickly scanned the room. Aside from who you learned was Wonho, and the tall man there were two men you recognised from earlier, who had helped with your kidnapping. Neither of them spoke, just stood silently by the door as if they were guarding it. They both help guns in their hands and you gulped in fear.

"She's got a fire in her." Wonho said, eyeing you up and down. "I like a challenge." He sat down on the sofa next to you and leaned over, brushing your hair out of your face. The gentleness of the gesture somehow terrifying you even more. "You going to be a good girl and not move? I don't want to hit you again." All you could do was nod.

"I'd listen to him, before Jooheon gets here." The tall man looked over at you, eyebrows raised in warning. "He's not as forgiving as Wonho." That thought alone was scary, giving that this man had already knocked you unconscious. You wondered how bad this Jooheon person could be.

"Jooheon just wants to chat, baby girl." Wonho said. "So make sure and talk." He added with a smirk.

You could do nothing but sit there, wide eyed with fear, mind racing. The zip ties on your wrists were uncomfortably tight and you wanted nothing but to cut them off and run a million miles away from this room. It made no sense to you why these people would want to capture you. You were nobody. Unimportant. You knew nothing of this side of Shownu's life so if they wanted information they were out of luck. You just worried what they would do when they found out that you really didn't know anything.

The door to the room opened with a click and your eyes immediately went to the sound. In walked a dark haired man in a leather jacket, shoulders hunched and eyes narrowed. Behind him trailed a smaller man who was talking quickly but in a language you didn't understand. "Sir." Both Wonho and the tall man greeted him. You assumed this had to be Jooheon. His eyes landed on you and you looked away, unable to hold his powerful gaze. He sat down at the desk situated on the other side of the room.

"Bring her here." He said, making you look back up to him. "Now." He added. Wonho obliged instantly and hoisted you up, carrying you over to where Jooheon had instructed. He sat you down in the chair opposite the desk. "Do you have her phone?" He asked Wonho. The muscular man simply nodded and slipped your phone out of his pocket, sliding it across the desk to Jooheon. You wanted to speak, to cry out but you felt frozen. The cold calmness in the way Jooheon acted was intmidating. "Do you know why you're here?" He asked suddenly.

"N-no." You stuttered.

"Your boyfriend has something I want." Jooheon said calmly. "And I want you to get him to give it to me."

"I-Im really sorry but I can't help you," You stressed, trying to control the panic rising in your voice.

"You might be the only one who can help me." His voice was deadly and it gave you chills.

"How can I help you?" You said feebly. "He really isn't my boyfriend, he's not going to listen to me, you're wasting your time." You were rambling now, the fear overcoming you. Jooheon silenced you with a wave of his hand.

"That might be true, but he cares about you. I can see it." Jooheon leaned back in his chair, eyes still trained on you. They had been watching you, spying on you and Shownu for god knows how long. "I've known Shownu a lot, lot longer than you have. Since we were children essentially." He said, taking you by surprise.

"Then why can't you get him to do what you want, if you know him so well?" The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them. Jooheon's eyes darkened.

"Why do you think you're here? This is how I'm doing it." He leaned on the desk, eyes never leaving yours. "You're my leverage. I'm willing to bet there's not much he won't do to keep you safe."

"What are you going to do to me?" You asked quietly.

"Nothing," Jooheon said simply. "Yet." He added, making your stomach knot with fear. "I want Shownu to worry a bit first, so you're going to be with us for a while."

"No, please!" You begged. "Please, I have a job, I have friends who will look for me. I'll do what you want just please let me go."

"I know excatly who will look for you." Jooheon replied. "Kihyun's going to be so worried...." He trailed off. God, you hoped Kihyun was okay and they hadn't touched him. You would never forgive yourself if something happened to him. "Here's what's going to happen." Jooheon stated calmly. "I'm going to keep your phone and you're going to stay here for however long it takes for Shownu to get in touch. When he does I'll negotiate you for what I want. Simple."

"What do you want?" You asked.

"Your naughty boyfriend has been trading drugs with a very huge dealer and making lots of money. I want that dealer's business." He said simply. Your face twisted in confusion. Just exactly how dangerous was Shownu? You knew he was up to something, but something of this magnitude was completely unexpected. He was a drug dealer. A major drug dealer. "You didn't know?" Jooheon asked, seeing the look on your face.

"No." You said quietly. You could see Wonho smirking out the corner of your eye.

"So innocent!" Wonho laughed and squeezed your thigh. You recoiled in horror but he only laughed. Jooheon shot him a warning glance and he removed his hand but the smile remained on his face.

"Your boyfriend is a dangerous man, make no mistake." Jooheon warned. "But he's not stupid either. If he knows what's best for him he'll do what I'm asking."

"And if he doesn't?" You asked in a small voice.

"I'll kill you myself and leave your body on his doorstep." Jooheon was so calm you knew he really meant what he said. He didn't even blink as the words left his mouth. "Wonho," He turned to the man beside you. "Take her back to the basement." Wonho nodded and moved to lift you again. "And hands off, yeah? Don't want to traumatise her just yet."

Wonho picked you up once more, this time bridal style. You weren't sure who you were more scared of, him or Jooheon. He carried you back to the basement, this time you didn't struggle at all, accepting your fate for now. Once you were down the basement steps he sat you down on the bed and flicked the light on. "I'll be back later with some food, angel." He said, winking at you and leaving the room. You had to get out of here, you couldn't wait around for Shownu.

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KIHYUN'S POV

It had been nearly 48 hours since Kihyun had discovered the bar half destroyed, which meant it had been 48 hours since anyone had seen or heard from Y/N. He had told the police what he knew but they hadn't had any leads yet and he was starting to get sick with worry. He felt useless, he just wanted to be able to do something. Anything to help.

He was cleaning the bar when a voice tore him from his thoughts. "I'm looking for Y/N." His eyes were met with Shownu's and instantly his grip on the cloth tightened, jaw clenching. "Is she here?"

"Nope." He said curtly, returning his attention back to cleaning, using every effort to control himself. He blamed Shownu for you disappearing. He hadn't trusted the older man from the moment he first laid eyes on him.

"Do you know where I might find her? I can't get a hold of her..." Shownu trailed off.

"Maybe she doesn't want to talk to you." Kihyun spat. Shownu's face screwed up in confusion at the younger man's hostility. "Or maybe she's gone fucking missing."

Shownu's brows furrowed. "Missing?" He said quietly. "What do you mean, missing?"

Kihyun stopped what he was doing and threw the cloth down harshly. "You tell me." He said coldly.

"What are you talking about?" Shownu's voice was calm but that didn't stop the panic start to creep up on him.

"Something's happened and she's gone, don't pretend like you don't have something to do with it. You probably did it yourself, asshole." Kihyun narrowed his eyes, watching Shownu closely.

Shownu snapped, grabbing Kihyun roughly by the forearm before snatching him so their faces were almost touching. "Firstly, the only thing stopping me from smacking you across the mouth for speaking to me so rudely is I know how much Y/N cares about you, and she wouldn't want that. So watch your fucking tone when you speak to me." Kihyun stayed silent, furiously scowling at the older man. "Secondly, you need to tell me what happened. Now." He let go of Kihyun, shoving him away.

"Something happened, here, at the bar." Kihyun sighed. "I came to work the day after she was closing up alone. There were bullet holes and the door was kicked in. That's all I know."

Shownu froze. "Are you fucking serious?" Kihyun nodded gravely.

"I've reported it to the police, but nothing has come of it..." Kihyun threw his hands up in frustration.

"Listen to me," Shownu commanded. "No more police ok?"

"What? Why? We need - "

"No." Shownu interrupted, holding a hand up to silence the younger man. "I know more about this kind of stuff than you."

"What, kidnapping?!" Kihyun scoffed incredulously.

"Yes." Shownu said seriously. "Now stop being a brat and listen to me. Do you have cctv footage here?" Kihyun nodded, a confused look on his face. "Can I see it?"

"It's on the computer in the back." Kihyun stated. "Follow me." He led Shownu to the back office and started the computer. Shownu was silent, his expression unreadable. Kihyun pulled up the footage from that night and played it for Shownu. "There's no sound, only video." He explained.

Shownu said nothing as he watched. From the angle of the camera it was hard to see what happened, let alone who the perpetrator was. He suspected they knew that and had planned accordingly. "Pause here." He instructed and Kihyun did as he asked. It was the clearest shot of the incident and Shownu's stomach dropped when he recognised the face.

"What is it?" Kihyun asked, trying to read his face.

"I have to go." Shownu said suddenly. He made to leave.

"What is it?!" Kihyun was yelling now, frustrated. Shownu said nothing and stormed out of the office, making his way out of the bar, ignoring Kihyun's shouts. "Fucking weirdo." Kihyun mumbled under his breath. He didn't trust Shownu one bit and he suspected that he knew something, he only hoped it would help in finding Y/N alive.

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Y/N'S POV

You weren't sure how long you had been in the basement, the only thing breaking up the hours were when Wonho would bring you food. Much to your dismay he insisted on watching you shower, smacking his lips in delight at your naked form. He claimed it was because you needed to be monitored at all times. As Jooheon had instructed he kept his hands off you but it didn't make you any less uncomfortable. As if on cue the basement door swung open and Wonho appeared in the doorway.

"You hungry princess?" He asked, casually strolling down the steps, tray of food in hand. You didn't answer. He crossed the room and set it on the small table next to the bed. "I think your boyfriend has finally figured out where you are." He added, completely taking you by surprise.

"How do you know?" You asked quickly.

"Jooheon got a very threatening phone call." He said. He sat next to you on the bed and instinctively you shifted further away from him. "At least he knows what Jooheon wants now..." He scooted closer to you and you averted his gaze. "I'm going to be sad when you go. Or when Jooheon kills you." He grabbed you roughly by the chin, forcing you to look at him.

"I thought you were told not to touch me." You spat, struggling to get out of his grip. He smirked and held you harder.

"Oh but I want to, Y/N." He leaned in close, his lips hovering over yours. "You're so cute when you're scared."

He was right, you were shaking you were so frightened but you were defiant. You'd had enough. "Let go of me!" You wiggled out of his grip but he was stronger, he grabbed you, rolling over so he had you on your back, pinned down with the weight of his muscular frame. "Get off!" You whined, trying to shake him off of you.

He ignored you, pinning your arms above your head in one swift movement. Wonho leaned down close to your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. "I bet you moan like a bitch in heat when you get fucked." He thrust his hips up as if to drive his point home. It made your skin crawl. "The things I would do to you, princess." He planted a kiss on your neck. "I'd make you cry, baby girl."

You felt like you were going to cry already at his words. He moved to your mouth and gave you a sloppy kiss, getting frustrated when you turned your head away. Using his free hand he grabbed you by the chin forcing you to kiss him. You screwed your eyes shut tight, not even wanting to look at him. "Stop, please!" You cried but it was no use.

He started to undo your pants and that's when you snapped. Seizing his moment of distraction you did the only thing you could. You headbutted him as hard as you could, your skull colliding with his nose. "Fuck!" He screamed, hands flying to his face. His nose was bleeding profusely and he jumped off of you. "You bitch!"

He was so preoccupied with his nose you knew you had to act. You ran. Flying up the stairs, taking two at a time, not daring to look back. He shouted something but you didn't catch it, hellbent on getting out of there. You made it out of the basement door and into the hallway you recognised from before. You didn't know the way out but you had to act knowing Wonho wouldn't be long behind you.

Immediately you turned left and ran. All you needed was a window and you could escape.

You spotted one and your heart surged. This was it.

Before you even got close the wind was knocked out of you and you were flat on your back, the tall slender man you met when you arrived had tackled you, stopping you dead in your tracks. You groaned in pain rolling over. "What the fuck happened to your nose?" He said to Wonho as he roughly grabbbed you, pulling you to your feet.

"That bitch hit me," Wonho spat. "Tie her fucking hands." He said to the other man, still clutching his bloody face.

The tall man complied and grabbed some rope that was nearby. "What did we tell you?" He sighed, tightening the knot. It was painfully tight.

"What's going on?" All this commotion had attracted Jooheon's attention and he appeared as if from nowhere. He didn't look happy.

"She hit me that's what!" Wonho yelled, angrily pointing at you.

"It's under control Sir." The tall man replied.

"You had one job!" Jooheon yelled, his voice like thunder and you jumped. He grabbed Wonho by the scruff of his jacket and threw him to the ground, the blood from his nose going everywhere. "So fucking do it."

"I'm sorry." Wonho said, getting to his feet.

"I don't have time to be dealing with this shit." Jooheon said looking between Wonho and the other man. They said nothing, looking embarrassed. The man that was following Jooheon when you arrived suddenly appeared and he spoke quietly in that same foreign language as before. Jooheon's eyes fell on you immediately. "It looks like your boyfriend is here."

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It wasn't the chaos you expected. In fact, it was oddly calm when Shownu arrived. Jooheon instructed the tall man, who you learned to be Hyungwon, to take you into the office where you had your first meeting. So here you sat waiting for Shownu to arrive, feeling nervous. Jooheon was sat at the desk in the room, his black gun resting an arms length away from him. You'd seen more weapons in the last 2 days than you had your entire life combined.

"If you try anything stupid again, I won't be afraid to use this." Hyungwon said, flashing his silver blade at you again. You gulped at the seriousness in his voice.

The door opened and Wonho entered. Your heart stopped when your eyes landed on Shownu, two men you had never seen before in tow. His gaze instantly went to you, tied up in the corner. "Are you ok?" He asked, eyes roaming the blood on your face that Wonho had spilled on you. You nodded, opening your mouth to reply but Jooheon spoke first.

"I'll ask the questions, if you don't mind." He said coolly. Shownu turned his attention to the dark haired man.

"What do you want Jooheon?" Shownu demanded, his voice low.

"You know what I want."

"I told you before, Min Yoongi works with who he wants. It's not my decision." Shownu said, an exasperated tinge to his voice. You were confused, unfamiliar with the name of the person being mentioned, although you could hazard a guess that this was the big time drug dealer Jooheon had mentioned before.

"You can't lean on him a little? Nudge him in my direction hyung?" Jooheon's words were friendly but you knew they meant anything but. In the short time you'd spent around him you sensed his powerful energy and you feared it.

"You know I can't do that." Shownu replied.

"You will if you want your pretty girlfriend back...in one piece." Jooheon said with a smirk. He had the upper hand and he knew it.

"Leave her out of it, Jooheon." Shownu said darkly.

"Too late. She's in it." Jooheon nodded to Hyungwon who grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you to your feet. You cried out in pain, completely at his mercy. It was subtle but you didn't miss the wince Shownu did at the sound of your cry.

"This is between me and you. Let her go." Shownu said, jaw flexing at the restraint of keeping his voice calm and steady.

"Do what I've asked and I will."

The tension in the room was palpable now as Jooheon waited for Shownu's answer. "It's not that simple." Came his reply. You were starting to get uncomfortable, Hyungwon's grip on you hadn't loosened.

Jooheon shrugged. "That's your problem, not mine. Get Min Yoongi to give me his business, I don't care how you do it."

"Fine." Shownu said to your surprise. "Let her go, now." He pointed to you. "I've agreed to your ridiculous demand."

"It's not that simple." Jooheon said, mocking Shownu's words from earlier. Shownu looked down at the dark haired man, his face hard. "She can go when you've actually done what I've asked."

"No." Shownu countered immediately. "She's not staying here a second longer." He said, his voice louder now.

"You've always been so demanding hyung, ever since we were little." Jooheon spat. "It's my way or no way."

Jooheon looked at Hyungwon again and gestured with his hand. Instantly he started to drag you out of the room by your hair and you wailed. Shownu reacted without thinking, his hand encircle Hyungwon's arm in a warning. "Let go." He threatened.

"Or what?" Jooheon exclaimed. Shownu didn't take his eyes off Hyungwon's silently telling him to do as he asked. You heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking and peered round to see Jooheon had raised his weapon and was pointing it at the three of you.

Shownu didn't seem fazed, expression stoic as ever. "You're not going to shoot me." He said with such confidence it bewildered you.

"Try me, Hyunwoo." Jooheon taunted. You looked in between the two men, confused at the name. Hyunwoo?

"You don't have the guts," Shownu said darkly.

Jooheon fired the gun, deliberately missing Shownu. You screamed at the unexpected sound, ducking out of instinct. "You want to test that theory?" Jooheon asked.

Shownu turned back to Jooheon. "I'll do what you want, but she leaves here today with me. How badly do you want my help?"

Jooheon's chest was heaving, seething with anger. You wondered what had happened between the two men for them to have this much tension. Without warning he swung his fist and it connected with Shownu's face. He stumbled back a bit, caught off guard. His hand touched at his lip, blood starting to spill. "If you don't," His words were like ice, dripping with malice. "I will find her, I will fucking kill her slowly and I'll make you watch the entire thing."

Hyungwon shoved you towards Shownu, who caught you before you stumbled, pulling you into his arms. "Are you quite finished?" Shownu said, his voice equally cold.

"Get the fuck out of my sight." Jooheon spat.

"Gladly." Shownu replied and turned on his heel to leave, taking you with him. The two men he had brought followed behind. You stumbled along in a daze, feeling utterly shocked at what you witnessed. Your eyes went to Shownu as you walked and you couldn't help but feel like he was a stranger.

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Shownu was almost totally silent the entire ride home. You didn't speak either, nervous to say anything in front of the two strangers that rode along with you. It wasn't until you were alone that Shownu spoke up.

"Are you ok?" He said softly, brushing your hair out of your face and looking down at you with such sad eyes you wanted to cry. You just nodded, making him sigh. "Let's get you home."

He held your hand as you walked into the apartment building you shared together. You felt numb. The past few days felt like a bad dream you never wanted to have again. You let yourself in to your apartment, Shownu close behind. "I want to shower," You mumbled. "Wash this blood off me."

"Are you hurt?" Shownu asked, looking worried.

"It's not my blood. I broke Wonho's nose." You pointed out. "He tried to - he tried to-" You couldn't even say it out loud, words catching in your throat. Before you realised it hot tears were spilling down your cheeks.

"Hey, it's ok." Shownu cooed, wrapping his arms around you but it only made you cry harder. "What did he do to you?" He asked, tucking your head undeath his, a palm resting gently on the back of your head.

"He's a fucking creep." You managed to get out. "I think he would have raped me if hadn't hurt him." Shownu's grip on you tightened at your words.

"I'll fucking kill him." He spat.

You flinched at the words, having had enough of violent men recently. You pushed Shownu away. "We need to talk, Shownu." He nodded, understanding that this conversation was inevitable. You took his hand in yours and led him over to the sofa, pulling him down next to you as you sat.

"These people will pay for this." He said to you, his eyes dark and cold once more. "I'll make sure of it. I'm so sorry this happened to you." He clenched his fist in anger and you knew he was deadly serious. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

"There's so much you haven't told me, Shownu." You said quietly. His eyes bore into yours, his gaze intense, waiting for you to continue. "You need to change that, because what you haven't told me almost got me killed today. I can't go through that again."

He took a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I told you before, I tell you what you need to know."

"You don't think your name is need to know information? Yeah that's right Hyunwoo." You added before he could respond. He looked down at your interlaced hands and you wondered if he felt guilty.

"That's not who I am anymore. I didn't think it was relevant..." He trailed off, still refusing to look at you.

"I feel like I don't know you at all. Jooheon of all people told me what you do. All this time I never knew." You said, removing your hand from his. "I don't think I can do this anymore." He finally looked up at you and you couldn't miss the hurt in his eyes. "I don't want to live in constant fear, Shownu."

"I warned you when we first started talking that my life is like this." He said and your heart twinged at how small his voice sounded. "You think I want you to be scared all the time? Of course not. I just liked you so much I couldn't stay away." He sighed again.

This was the person you thought you knew. Not the drug dealing thug you'd witnessed today. "Did you know they were going to do that to me?" You asked suddenly.

"No." He said quietly. "I didn't even know they got to you until I spoke to Kihyun."

Your heart dropped at the sound of your friends name. "Is he ok?" You asked quickly.

Shownu nodded. "Yeah, he's fine. Just a bit shaken up."

You made a mental note to phone your friend later. Right now all you wanted to do was sleep and forget. Your body was aching from the physical abuse it suffered. "Are you going to do what Jooheon wants?" You asked, because your life literally did depend on it.

"Yes. I don't have a choice." Shownu said, eyes raking over you silently saying because of you. "I won't let anything happen to you again Y/N. I mean it."

"How can I trust that when something already did?" You mumbled. His eyes wrinkled, your words hurting him.

"Because I won't let you out of my sight ever again." His face was deadpan, he meant what he said. He grabbed both of your hands and pulled you into his lap, kissing you as he did so. It felt so nice to be in his arms again. You kissed him back, your body betraying you at his touch. He had this way of making you feel so secure in arms, thoughts of how dangerous he was vanishing like a cloud. His hands were all over you, needing to feel every inch of you. "Anything you want to know, ask and I'll tell you. No secrets." He said quietly against your lips, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Shownu," You sighed in pleasure as you felt his hand skim the waist band of your jeans, before disappearing into your underwear. He rubbed your clit a few times making you whimper against his mouth.

"Let me make you feel good." He whispered. "Please." He sounded so desperate, his desire to make it up to you thick in his voice. His hand slid down and he slipped two fingers in to you, making you grasp his bicep in shock. He gently began to move them in and out and already you could feel yourself start to heat up. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and let him have his way with you, moaning every time the palm of his hand touched your clit. "You always feel so amazing, so warm and so wet." He breathed into your ear.

You were getting close and he could tell. He stood you up and peeled off your jeans and underwear. You let him, brain on autopilot, wanting nothing more than to feel close to him. Shownu then lifted his hips off the sofa just high enough to pull down his trousers and boxers. You wasted no time, immediately straddling him, sinking down on to his cock. "Fuck." You moaned at the sensation of finally having him inside you. He pulled you close, arms wrapping so tightly around your body you could barely breathe. It was as if he never wanted to let go.

He began to thrust his hips up, slowly at first, careful to keep his cock buried deep inside of you. "Please go faster," You whined, rocking your own hips to encourage him. "Make me feel good." You repeated his promise pressing your forehead against his and he groaned, complying and moving his hips quicker.

It wasn't long before you were both coming undone. You cried out loudly against his neck when your orgasm washed over you, clinging to him for dear life. He followed soon after, the sensation of your pussy squeezing him pushing him over the edge and with a cry of your name he came deep inside you. You moved to climb off him but he only held you tighter, wanting to savour the moment of feeling this connected to you. He was still hard but you could feel his cock start to soften.

"You mean so much to me, Y/N." Shownu said breathlessly, gazing intently at you. You responded by kissing him sweetly on the lips. He had come to mean a lot to you too over the last few months. You cared a lot about him and you knew he appreciated that you accepted him as he was, violence and all. But how much longer could you continue? You couldn't stop the question forming in your mind as you looked at him. Is this worth it?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The moment you saw Kihyun he pulled you into a rib crushing hug, which felt strange but familiar given that he had been cold towards you the last few weeks. "You're hurting me, Ki." You mumbled into his chest, your body still aching from your ordeal.

"Sorry," He breathed, with a sigh of relief. "I'm just so glad you're okay." His eyes went to the now healing cut on the side of your head and he touched a finger to it. "Shit." He mumbled. "Are you even ok?"

"I'm getting there." You replied with a reassuring smile.

The two of you were alone in your apartment. Kihyun had practically invited himself over when you had called him to let him know that you were fine and not missing. You sat on your sofa, blushing at the memory of what happened there with Shownu less than 12 hours ago. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" Kihyun's voice cut through your thoughts.

You winced a little at his words, really not wanting to discuss the last few days in depth. Kihyun was your friend. Your closest friend probably and you wanted to tell him but couldn't find the right words. "Shownu saved me." You tried to smile but Kihyun's expression remained stony.

"I'm pretty sure he was the reason some men fucking kidnapped you in the first place." He said coldly. You stared at him, a little taken a back. How much did he know exactly?

"Listen I've been through a lot," You began with a sigh and his expression softened. "Be nice to me ok, Ki?"

He grabbed your hand and squeezed, looking at you with kind eyes. "I'm sorry. I just want you to tell me the truth."

And so you did. You explained what had happened to you, leaving out the attempted rape because it was too traumatic to speak aloud. Kihyun sat quietly, listening carefully and occasionally giving your hand a squeeze at the parts that were more difficult for you to get out. You finished speaking and he sighed for what felt like a long time. He scooted closer to you, pulling you into a hug.

"I missed you, you know." You said to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "It's so nice to have you speak to me again. Like old times."

"Before you painfully rejected me and broke my heart." Kihyun joked but you caught the flicker of sadness in his eyes.

"Ki," You whined. "Don't be like that."

"I missed you too, Y/N." He admitted. He slowly withdrew his arms from you and leaned back on the sofa. "What's going on with you and him now anyway?"

"I honestly don't know Ki," You said truthfully. The whole situation was messy and part of you just wanted to cut your losses and get away. Then Shownu would kiss you and you'd never want him to stop. "I know he feels really guilty, he blames himself entirely. I just don't know how safe I am continuing to be with him."

"That sentence there should be enough for you to just end it." Kihyun frowned, looking at you. "You shouldn't be with anyone who makes you feel like you're in danger, Y/N."

"I know, you're right." You sighed.

"What if something bad happens again? Or something worse?" Kihyun was getting exasperated now, voice rising. "Why would you want to increase your chances of that?"

"I like him, Kihyun. I can't help it." You said, knowing how much those words would sting your friend but you had to be honest regardless.

If he was hurt, he didn't show it. "Enough to risk your life?!" He scoffed.

"No." You said quietly. At least you didn't think so.

"I can't tell you what to do Y/N," He said slowly. "All I can do is give you my advice. Regardless of whatever happened between us you know I care about you."

That much was true. You knew Kihyun really did care for you and you didn't want him to worry. The thought of Jooheon's threat popped into your mind, and an image of your mangled corspe followed a second after. You couldn't put your friends and family through that. So you decided, the only way to ensure your safety was to be where Jooheon couldn't find you. Which, you thought sadly, it meant you had to break up with Shownu.

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You put it off for a few days. Shownu had called a few times but you ignored him. He had even come by your apartment once but you pretended not to be home. You were a coward. The last thing you wanted was to see his beautiful face in pain. However the guilt was gnawing at you and you decided to just bite the bullet and do it.

"Where have you been? I've been worried." Were the first words out of his mouth as he crossed the threshold into your home. You bit your lip, already feeling slightly nauseous.

"Sorry, I've just been busy, with work and Kihyun..." You mumbled your excuse, trailing off. "Shownu, we need to talk." He froze at your words, body tensing up immediately. Everyone knows the phrase 'we need to talk' is rarely followed by anything good. "Can we sit?"

He nodded and followed you to kitchen. Your mind flashed back to the night you tended to his wounds, sat in the very same chair as now. God if only you had known what would happen after that night maybe you never would have bothered. "Talk." He ordered.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore." You said. You didn't mean to be so blunt but you were nervous and it just sort of came out that way.

"Okay..." Shownu said slowly, looking a little confused.

"I know you said you'd keep me safe, but I just can't risk it Shownu." You said quietly. "I don't belong in your world, I don't agree with it. It scares me. I don't want to live my life like that. As much as I like you..."

"You can't. I get it." He said roughly. "I think you're making a mistake."

"I'm sorry." You said, looking down. "I have to do this."

"I meant what I said Y/N. I care about you, deeply." He sighed heavily. "And the no secrets part. I meant that too."

You felt like you were going to cry. This was the same soft side of him that always reeled you in. "I really am sorry." You repeated.

"I can't force you to be with me." He mumbled, standing up. "I think I should go now." You silent as you watched him walk to your front door. He grabbed the handle and pulled, pausing for a second he looked at you and said "Stay safe, Y/N." Echoing the first time he ever bid you goodbye, except now it would be the last. He didn't wait for your reply, choosing to leave your house and your life for good.

masterlist

#monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x smut #monsta x angst #shownu smut #shownu fanfic #shownu fanfiction #kihyun fanfic #kihyun ff #kihyun smut #monsta x au

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thotful-writing · 5 years

Text

Obedience

Jacob Seed/F! Character

Description: She had been reluctantly taken into Jacob's training as a Hunter, she was strong, but needed to learn her place and obey commands. Jacob had tried everything, there was only one other way to teach her.

A/N: I don't write much Jacob stuff, but figured I'd give it a go.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, dom/sub undertones

Jacob paced the room, he wasn’t sure if he was angry or worried, he decided to go with both. He hadn’t heard from her in hours, he told her not to do anything but of course she was stubborn and constantly trying to prove herself. Suddenly the door opened, he stopped, his heart pounding as all of the worst scenarios ran through his mind. He was set at ease when he saw her walk in.

“I told you-I told you not to go, but you went anyways? You disobeyed a direct order.” He stalked towards her, anger seething through him.

“I-I was doing it for the Project, to help.”

“It was too dangerous to do alone and now I’m going to have to go and fix your mess.” He stopped a few inches away, glaring down at her.

“But-I did it. I secured the outpost.” She stepped back trying to get some distance from his obvious rage.

He blinked at her confused for a moment, how could she have secured the outpost on her own? With no backup?

“You did it? By yourself?”

“Yep. No problems or anything, Sir.” She gave him a weak smile, hoping he’d be grateful.

“You still went against my orders. You’ll have to pay for that.”

She wasn’t fond of Jacob’s punishments, he was always so creative. She had been under his training for a few months now, she desperately wanted more with him, but knew her feelings weren’t reciprocated in any way. Jacob was all work and no play, completely closed off from any emotions or affection.

She shivered outside in the rain as she held the large rock over her head, her arms trembled, ready to give out if she let them.

“Why don’t you just put the rock down? Come inside where it’s warm?” He said as he paced around her.

“No, Sir.” She responded, keeping her gaze forward.

“Just put it down, it’ll be fine.” He continued to try and persuade her.

“N-No, Sir.” She shivered.

“Are you disobeying my orders?” He circled her like a predator circling his prey.

“N-No, Sir. You told me not to put this rock down until the sun came up. That’s what I’m going to do.” Her arms continued to shake. She’d sooner drop it on her head than put it down and disappoint him.

“Have it your way.” He said as he went back inside.

She could no longer feel her fingers, she was pretty sure they were now permanently attached to the rock. The rain let up a little, but she was soaked to her core, there was no way she’d get out of this without getting pneumonia. Jacob returned with a hot bowl of soup, he stood in front of her and got a spoonful, blowing it gently in front of her face. She instinctively licked her lips, she’d give anything for some food right now.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you hungry?” He furrowed his brow as he looked at her.

“Y-Yes, Sir.” She didn’t look at the soup, she held her gaze to his.

“Come inside and get some food. There’s plenty.” He placed the spoon in his mouth and made the most ridiculously pleased face.

“N-No, Sir.”

“You sure? It’s delicious.” He took another bite.

“Y-Yes, Sir.” This was the only time in her life she ever denied food and it pained her to do so.

“Guess I’ll just give the rest to the Judges then.” He left her once more.

6 hours, 6 hours had passed, she only knew because she could see the sun peaking over the horizon, she continued to wait though, determined to hold out until Jacob gave her permission to come inside.

“Oh, you’re still out here?” Jacob stretched and yawned in front of her.

She nodded her head her body trembled, she no longer had the energy to speak and her mouth was pretty much frozen shut.

Jacob didn’t say anything, he grabbed the rock from her and dropped it to the ground. Her arms immediately fell to her sides, they felt like cooked noodles. She moved to step out of the mud, but her legs gave out and she fell to the ground. Who knew standing in the same position for 6+ hours would cause your legs to become stiff and buckle the second you tried to move? She pushed herself up on her hands and knees, took a deep breath and tried to stand back up, but it was no use, she fell back down to the ground.

Jacob sighed as he watched her feeble attempts. He was initially reluctant to take her on as a Hunter, but she persevered through his training and had proven herself worthy, she still had a stubborn streak that needed to be broken though. He rolled his eyes before he leaned down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms.

“S-Sir?” She looked at him surprised.

“Jesus, you’re freezing.” He said as she shook in his arms.

He carried her inside and passed the shared quarters for the Hunters, he continued walking down the corridor to his quarters, she’d glanced inside but had never fully been in it before. He placed her in his bed and covered her with the thickest fleece comforter. He left for a moment before returning with two more blankets, piling them on her. She continued to shake under the warmth, but the feeling was coming back into her extremities slowly. Jacob stood over her as she shivered, her lips almost blue, he knew she needed more heat. He kicked his shoes off and pulled the covers back, lying down beside her and covering them both back up. He pulled her close to his chest.

“S-Sir, you don’t have-“

“Shut up. Your body temperature is too low. Why did you stand out there so long?” He scolded her.

“B-Because you t-told me to, Sir.”

“If you had followed my orders that closely before then you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Although it was a bit awkward, she actually enjoyed her current situation, not the freezing to death part, but the being in bed close to Jacob part. His body heat was helping warm her up quicker though, she had stopped shivering as she laid next to him. Jacob tried his hardest to remain completely unfazed by her closeness, he couldn’t deny he’d desired her for a while now, especially in watching her strength and determination increase over the months. Now, as she lay so close to him, he wasn’t sure how much resolve he had to resist her, one glance wouldn’t hurt, would it? He looked down to see her asleep against his chest, breathing softly. He brushed a piece of hair off her face, he panicked slightly when she stirred, but relaxed when she continued to sleep.

She stretched across the bed to find Jacob had left her, she wondered how long he stayed with her? Her arms were still sore and weak as she left the bed, she wanted to seek him out, to thank him, but she decided to return to her quarters instead.

“Heard you got quite the punishment yesterday.” One of the other Hunters commented as she entered the room.

“Lasted longer than you did though, how long did you stay out there before you’d pissed yourself?” She smiled smugly.

“You’re right, I didn’t last long out there. Maybe if I had then Jacob would have shared his bed with me too. But I guess we can’t all spread our legs for special treatment.”

She wanted to lash out, but she refrained, she knew Jacob wouldn’t be happy if she started killing off his Hunters. She ignored the comment and gathered her clothes to go take a shower. She let the hot water warm her still semi-frozen bones, her fingers and toes still felt somewhat numb. When she returned to the shared room the man was still there, he glanced up at her, but she ignored him. Before she knew what was happening, he was behind her, pressing her against the concrete wall.

“Just want a taste of what Jacob gets.” He said into her ear as his hands travelled down her body.

She would have screamed but it wouldn’t have done any good, Jacob would have come to save her, but it would’ve only made things worse for her. She let him get distracted by her compliance, he let his guard down for a moment, she threw her elbow back into his face as hard as she could. He yelled out in pain as he stepped back from her, holding his nose.

“Touch me again and I’ll slit your fucking throat while you sleep.” She turned around to face him.

He was about to say something, but Jacob entered the room, “What’s going on here?” He crossed his arms as he glanced between the two of them.

“Nothing, Sir.” She feigned innocence.

“The blood pouring from his nose tells me it’s more than ‘nothing’. What happened?” He looked at the man.

“I-I tripped.” He said as he continued holding his nose.

“Is that so? Maybe you need more agility training then, clean yourself up and meet me outside in 10.”

The man left, glancing back at her, she held her gaze on Jacob. She didn’t want to tell him what had almost happened, she was worried he’d see her as weak.

“There something else I need to know?”

“No, Sir.” She shook her head. He looked at her for another moment before leaving the room, he was certain he knew what had happened and he didn’t plan on taking it easy on the guy.

“Jacob? Hello? Anyone?” A voice rang over the radio, she looked over at it, Jacob was still outside.

“Yes?” She pressed the button and answered, knowing she should’ve just gone to get Jacob.

“We need help! We’re under attack here at the Elk Jaw Lodge, by the Resistance, there’s too many of them. Send help!”

She stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. She knew she could get there quickly and help, as well as prove herself to Jacob, but he was so furious when she’d done the same thing the other day. She made her decision, she grabbed her guns and headed out. There were a lot more Resistance members than there should have been, by the time she got there it was almost too late, there were only a few followers left. She ran in, guns blazing, taking out anyone and everyone she saw. Her adrenaline was pumping so fast she didn’t realize when she got nicked by a bullet as it tore through the skin on her arm. When it was all over, she had either killed all the Resistance members or they had run away. She helped the remaining followers get patched up until reinforcements could come. She decided it was best if she headed back to the VA Center, hoping Jacob had heard about her success.

She walked in the door, half expecting to see Jacob waiting for her again, but he wasn’t there. She walked down the corridor further until she reached his quarters, she peaked inside but didn’t see him. Suddenly she felt someone grab her arm and turn her around.

“Looking for someone?” Jacob asked as his eyes bore into her.

“N-No, Sir.” She tried to pull free of his grasp, but he held firm.

“Heard you were down at Elk Jaw Lodge.”

“Yes, Sir. They needed help so I-“

“So, you disobeyed a direct order, again, and went to play hero?” He clenched his jaw as he glared down at her.

“Sir, I-“

“What’s it going to take to break you, hm? To get through to you that you don’t call the shots around here?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She stared up at him, genuinely worried about what he would do. She didn’t think helping would be such a bad thing, but she did go against him, and she had made a habit of it recently. Jacob held her arm as he pushed her into his room, slamming the door closed behind him. She trembled slightly as she stood in front of him, not knowing what he was going to do to her. He grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her hair back, forcing her to look at him.

“You’re going to learn how to obey commands.” Before she could register what was happening his lips crashed into hers, kissing her forcefully.

He shoved his tongue into her mouth, she welcomed the intrusion and swirled her tongue around his. She fought for dominance in the kiss but was quickly reminded of her place by a hard pull on her hair and a sharp bite on her bottom lip. He pulled away from her abruptly, leaving her breathless and wanting.

“Clothes.” He commanded.

She didn’t need to be told twice, she quickly rid herself of her shirt and unbuttoned her pants. She paused momentarily when he grabbed her arm, looking over the wound she had, bringing her attention to it as well. He let out a heavy sigh at the sight, but knew it wasn’t anything life threatening, deciding to leave it for later. She returned to her task and removed her pants, remaining only in her panties in front of him.

“Still don’t listen.” He said as he grabbed the waistband of her panties and pulled them until she heard the fabric stretching and then ripping apart.

She shifted her legs, feeling her wetness already soaking her thighs and he hadn’t even touched her yet. He tossed her underwear to the floor with her other clothes and circled her, just as he had done before, like he was a predator and she was his prey. She jumped when his hand landed hard on her bare ass, sending shivers over her body at the contact. He moved forward, pressing his body against her back, she could feel his hardness on her ass, she instinctively reached back to palm him through his pants. He let her for a moment before giving her another smack on her ass. She pulled her hand away from him immediately. He remained there, his hands on her shoulders pulling her back against him, he loved the feeling of her body on his. He trailed kisses down the side of her neck, biting into the flesh on her shoulder. She moaned instinctively and reached back for him again, needing to touch him. The second her hand touched him he spanked her again, harder this time. She withdrew her hand once more.

“Desk.” One word was all she needed, she walked over to his desk and bent over it, waiting.

He remained where he was, admiring her from afar as she waited for him. How he wanted to take her now, on every surface in the room, but she needed to learn her place first. He didn’t move for several minutes, she began to wonder what the hold up was, she turned her head to look at him.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

“No, Sir.” She turned her head forward.

He moved closer, his fingers tracing down her spine lightly, she felt goosebumps form across her skin as his fingers moved down further, barely touching her ass. She pushed back into his hand, hoping to coax him into touching her more, the only thing it earned her was another hard smack on the ass, adding to the already reddened skin.

“Patience.” He growled.

He knelt behind her, bringing his face directly to her center. He smirked at how wet she was already, completely soaked. His hand started down at her ankle, lightly moving up her leg, to her thigh. He spread her open wider, but never touched her where she wanted it most. She whined after a few minutes, shifting her legs. It was taking all his will power not to fuck her over this desk right this instance, but he held back. He leaned forward and pressed his tongue flat against her, starting at her clit and licking up to her entrance, tasting her. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, finally being touched where she needed it. He pushed one finger into her opening, feeling how tight she was.

“This is going to hurt.” He said as he withdrew his finger and stood up behind her.

She furrowed her brow for a moment, what exactly was he talking about? It didn’t take her long to figure it out after he’d unzipped his pants and pressed his tip at her entrance, pushing into her completely without warning her first.

“Wait, fuck…” She squirmed, trying to adjust to his size as he stretched her out, but he grabbed her hips and held her still, not letting her move.

He pulled out almost completely before sliding back in, at this point she was glad she had gotten so wet before he’d done this, if not it would have been a lot more painful. She tried to control the pace by moving further up the desk, but he caught onto her quick and grabbed the wound on her arm, causing her to yell and stop all movements.

“Please, Sir…” She begged as he tightened his grip on her, still thrusting in and out of her slowly.

“Begging is another way of trying to control a situation.” He laughed at her attempt.

He released her arm and gripped her hips once more, thrusting harder into her, causing her to lurch forward on the desk. She was finally getting adjusted to him and moaned each time he dragged against her walls as he pulled out. His pace had increased as did the pressure in which his fingers were digging into her hips. He groaned as he pounded into her, reveling in her tightness, the way she writhed beneath him and under his grasp. She began to tighten around him as she felt her imminent release approaching.

“No.” He said as he slowed his pace back down, bringing her back from the brink.

She panted and wanted to argue, but knew it was no use, he would just continue to drag this out if she did. She remained silent as he started moving faster again. He smiled at her obedience, she was learning quickly, even if she wanted to complain, she wouldn’t. He slowed his pace again, but thrusted deeper inside her, hitting that perfect spot that made her knees weak. She moaned loudly each time he hit it, he knew she was getting close again, as was he. He thrust into her harder and faster again, the desk banging into the wall, if no one had heard it before they definitely did now. She whimpered at each thrust and felt herself tighten around him again.

“S-Sir?” She asked, he knew what she wanted.

“Alright, Darlin’” He said through gritted teeth.

A few more thrusts and she came undone beneath him, her body shuddered her orgasm hit her. Her walls clenching around him pushed him towards his own release, he had no plans of pulling out of her either. He remained inside her, making sure she got every ounce of his cum. They both began to come back down, he finally pulled out of her, she remained on the desk, unable to move.

“You belong to me now.” He leaned down and spoke into her ear, placing a kiss on her shoulder as she lay there.

#Jacob Seed #jacob seedxreader #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanfiction #fc5

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littlekryer · 5 years

Text

“The most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you and you’re standing in the doorway

AND YOU SMILE AS YOU EASE THE GUN FROM MY HAND AND IM FROZEN WITH JOY RIGHT WHERE I STAND

The world throws its light underneath your hair 40 miles to Atlanta, this is nowhere

Going to Georgia”

#mountain goats #depression #love lost

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twinkletoes-rp · 5 years

Text

Wolf’s Rain: Bloodied Chances Ch. 5 - Battle Scars

(Can also read on FFN / AO3 / Previous / Next)

Kiba’s already headed out to take in the moonlight before he sleeps, and Hige’s supposed to follow, but he stops short. He’s frowning thoughtfully at Toboe. After several seconds, he speaks, voice quiet and unsure. “Hey, Tsume?” The silver wolf immediately snaps to look at him, chest tightening. He’s only ever sounded like that when talking about his lost memories and what he did for Jaguara… “I never really…heard what happened with the kid and the old man… I mean, I know he got shot, obviously, but…you know, the specifics.” He bites his lip, looks away. “Toboe told me how you saved him from the guy when you first met, but…” his expression twists in talking about this, but he has to get it out, “…hell, the kid basically stared down the barrels of two guns, the old man’s and Darcia’s, when he died last time… It’s not…” his voice drops even lower, and Tsume’s almost surprised there isn’t a scorch mark on the ground from the heat of Hige’s glare, “…i-it just…doesn’t make sense…”

Tsume watches him for a long moment before he hums on a sigh. “I’m sorry. We should have explained it to you.”

Hige settles cross-legged on Toboe’s other side and smiles gently, hands moving inside his hoodie pocket. “Hey, in your defense, there was a lot going on.” There’s the smallest laughing undercurrent to his voice.

He feels victorious when it actually gets Tsume to smile a little bit. “True…” His eyes drift back to Toboe, and his smile falls, the space between his eyes pinching. “To be honest, there are still some things I don’t really understand myself…but I can guess…”

He doesn’t exactly sound happy about that, but Hige supposes nobody would be in this situation, especially with Toboe being Tsume’s…well, for lack of a more fitting description, best friend. Regardless, color Hige intrigued. “Okay, so…what’re you thinkin’, big guy?”

A small smile coming at the new nickname, Tsume thinks back to the incident. He tells Hige everything he and Kiba saw in taking down Blue and the old man, what Toboe said to him, all of it. He knows Hige would want it, so he goes into as much detail as he can, never mind how the younger man winces at how Kiba quieted Blue. Hige has to know Kiba would do it as gently as he could, though, knowing what she means (meant?) to Hige.

By the time he’s done, Hige looks more than a little pale and horrified, glancing frantically between Tsume and the kid, and it takes a minute before he can get a word past the secondhand panic clogging his throat. “Holy shit…!” he breathes, voice trembling the slightest bit. Tsume can see him curling shaking fists in his hoodie pocket. His gaze travels back to Toboe, looking conflicted and confused. “But why would he…? He could have fought back, could have… I mean, I know he and the old man have a complicated history, but…” Reaching out, he gently brushes his fingers through Toboe’s bangs and long hair with a small sigh. “What the hell happened, kid…?”

Tsume silently studies the way he is with Toboe, then the boy himself. He remembers how reassuring and sure Toboe was with Hige when the older was having his identity crisis in Jaguara’s Keep. Toboe’s always paid attention to things the rest of them don’t, read things in people and their personalities and never been afraid to praise or call them out on them. Hell, the kid did the latter with Tsume when they’d known each other for twenty minutes at best. And back then, with Jaguara, Toboe and Kiba were the only ones really able to bring Hige back to himself after everything. Tsume wishes he could have done more himself, wanted to, but…he’d had his doubts. He wasn’t alone in that, Kiba did, too, but good reasons be damned, he’d pushed and made his concerns more known, and…that put a strain on his and Hige’s relationship toward the end. Luckily, they both did their best to patch it up before they died, and if he really thinks about it...it was only after Toboe’s death that they were truly able to reconcile.

Once again, like pretty much everything good in his life (lives, really), Tsume’s coming to realize…it’s all because of Toboe.

Sheesh… When they first met, he never thought he’d be so lost on the kid, but…well, here he is. But if he’s being honest? He wouldn’t change a single damn thing about it. Any of it.

“So…you said you had theories…” Hige’s slow, thoughtful voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and Tsume tunes back in to find Hige staring at Toboe as well. He must have been thinking, too. Good. Otherwise, well, it might have been awkward. Permission to keep going, even begging, is more than present in his packmate’s tone.

Tsume nods stiffly, still a little startled to be back in reality and not quite sure how he’ll take his ideas. “Y-yeah…” Gaze shifting back to their youngest, Tsume takes a breath. “Have you…ever heard of something the humans call PTSD?”

Hige raises an eyebrow at him, mouth scrunched up in thought. “I don’t…think so… Why? ‘s it some kinda food?”

Tsume can’t help but breathe a sudden laugh at that, caught off guard, but not surprised. “No, dumbass,” he says, cuffing the other wolf upside the head gentler than he normally might. Hige smirks a trifle despite their conversation. Sobering, Tsume’s fingers ghost over Toboe’s wounded leg. He’s never wished for healing magic before, but he’d take some of Cheza’s right now gladly. Hell, even that Cher woman’s medical advice would be appreciated. “According to some of my men, it stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. They said it’s like a kind of…sickness in the brain some people develop in response to severe trauma. It usually mostly affects those who’ve fought in or been victims of war or some other kind of mass tragedy, but it can get to other people, too. One of my underlings was mauled by a dog as a kid, scarred physically and mentally, and whenever we came across one, he’d royally freak out. He shot one once, tried to shoot us when he lost his head completely. We’d have to drag him out of there after we managed to calm him down, if we could. If not, we did it kicking and screaming, fighting us all the way. And that’s even if we could get close enough to touch him at all. It got pretty dangerous, even for me.”

Hige’s quiet, listening intently all the while. He doesn’t really know what this has to do with Toboe, but…maybe the old man? Or both? Either way, he trusts that Tsume’s getting there. This is about Toboe, after all.

“They said he definitely had it. But they also said it could manifest in different ways, too. It could be a silent, frozen kind of freak out, wide-eyed and trembling and possibly hurting themselves without realizing. They’ll be there physically, but mentally, they’re reliving the trauma. Breaking out of it is like…being able to breathe again when you’ve been drowning…”

Hige watches him carefully. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Tsume talks from experience—or maybe he’s just reading too far into things. Whatever the case, his gaze zips back to Toboe, from his face to his leg and back. “So you think, the way he died, it might have— He might have— And the old man, too?”

Tsume hums in confirmation. He’s catching on quicker than he thought. “That’s my working theory, anyway.” He holds up two fingers, ticking them off as he goes. “The old man has the first kind, the violent one. Toboe…” he clenches a fist so hard that his knuckles pop, nails almost break skin, “…well, from what I saw…he has the second…”

There’s a kind of tense silence that settles here, both of them staring hard at Toboe with guilt and frustration and a particularly painful kind of devastation playing in their chests. Outside, having heard every word, Kiba feels it, too.

“Damn it…” Hige hisses, and Tsume glances over. He’s looking at Toboe with such sad, angry eyes. “I wish…I wish there was something we could do for ‘im… More, you know? I wish…” He gets that look in his eyes that tells Tsume he’s remembering his own trauma at the hands of Jaguara, and it curls something so startlingly painful in Tsume’s gut that he can’t help but want to stop it in its tracks.

Reaching out, he lays a firm hand on Hige’s shoulder. “Hey.” The younger wolf turns at the deceptively stern tone of voice, the gentleness underneath drawing his attention. He’s shocked and maybe a little helplessly awed to see the calm, confident smile on Tsume’s face. “Don’t look so defeated.” Gaze moving back to Toboe, he squeezes Hige’s shoulder. “If he was alone,” like he was when Tsume first found him, “maybe we should worry. But he has us,” has Tsume, “and he knows we won’t let anything happen to him.” Not again. A gentle thumb strokes a bead of sweat from Toboe’s cheek. “We can’t change what happened before, but we can make sure history doesn’t repeat itself. If he needs us, we’ll be there, and that’s what matters.”

Hige blinks, Kiba’s smiling proudly outside, and then the younger wolf breaks out into a bright, toothy grin that has the set of Tsume’s shoulders easing. Thank Paradise for that. “Yeah, for sure! Thanks, Tsume!” He laughs. “You know, you’re sounding more and more like Kiba when you get all wise like that!”

Tsume raises an eyebrow at that last part before he huffs a laugh, smirking. “Yeah, maybe. Just don’t tell him that. He’ll get a big head.”

Hige snorts, brushing himself off as he moves to stand. “Sure. Whatever you say.” Softening for a moment in meeting Tsume’s eyes again, voice following, he says, “Seriously…thanks for explaining everything. I think I understand things a lot better now.” He looks back toward Toboe, melting all the more. “Take care of the runt for us. We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

Tsume nods. “No problem.” He smiles fondly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got him. I’ll wake you to change his bandage in a few hours. Thanks, Hige. Now go get some sleep before we’re both up all night.”

Yawning, the younger wolf heads out the door with a lazy wave. “G’night.”

As promised, Tsume does wake Hige to redress Toboe’s wound and change out his towel around midnight, and as he also promised, Tsume does do his best to get some sleep afterward. It’s a bit restless and light, under the circumstances, but it’s still a good sleep, and he’s grateful for that.

“No! Granny, wait!”

But somewhere before dawn, that shatters.

Toboe’s frantic, tearful shout startles Tsume awake instantly, gasping sharply and automatically reaching for his knife before he realizes what exactly woke him. The second he does, he’s focusing all his attention on Toboe. The boy’s tossing and turning, blankets halfway thrown off, and his breathing and heart rate are through the roof. He’s drenched in sweat, there are tears running down his face, and his twisted, grieving expression is like multiple punches to Tsume’s gut. “Toboe…”

Hesitating before reaching over to take his hand, Toboe’s fingers twitch at Tsume’s touch before recognizing and welcoming it, threading their fingers together. Tsume can’t help the light blush that covers his cheeks at that, softening, then squeezing. He wants to tell him it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t know if that would be the right thing to do. When Gehl was sick like this and had nightmares, the others always told him it was safer to let him ride it out. He didn’t really understand then, still doesn’t now if he’s honest, but those guys treated Gehl like a little brother, so he trusted their judgment. He still does. He’ll trust their advice now, too.

“G-Granny…” Tsume snaps back to the present at Toboe’s small, sad voice, wincing when it cracks. “I-I never meant… I-I just wanted to—to show you I loved you…t-that I was excited to see you and eat with you, but I… A-and Leara…your bird, I…I-I was just trying to…to impress you, I didn’t… B-both of you…I-I’m so sorry… S-so sorry…”

Tsume’s ears perk at that, finding himself leaning forward a little. He’s always had his suspicions, ever since Toboe first told him about his Granny. Then the incident with Leara’s bird pushed them along a little more, when he wanted to stay behind with those nomads in the desert even more, and finally…with how he died… Well, honestly…if he’s right about what he thinks this is, he can’t say he’s really surprised. Horrified and crushed for Toboe’s sake, but…God, he understands. Probably better than anyone else could.

“I never meant to kill anything…” It’s a broken, guilty whisper, so much that if Tsume weren’t a wolf, he’s not sure he would have heard it, let alone made it out. Part of him wishes he didn’t. “I-I’m so sorry…”

And there it is. That first line Tsume’s heard before, back in the old world after he rescued Toboe from Leara. Now that he has all this, too…it’s as good a confession as any. A lot of things are making a hell of a lot more sense now. Not that he’s happy about it. Of course not. He’s always known how Toboe struggles with hurting people when he doesn’t mean to. Hell, Tsume himself struggles with it, too—a few accidentally-violent exchanges with the boy in question in that once-warzone from the old world come to mind—and he’s almost sure, knowing how perceptive Toboe is, the kid has his own suspicions about that in relation to his past.

But having suspicions and knowing they’re correct…those are two very different things. Especially when they make the silver wolf upset for two colossally different reasons.

“B-Blue…” Tsume jumps in surprise at that name, narrowing his eyes in confusion, “…I-I couldn’t protect Pops…” He grimaces and curls his free hand into a tight fist, glaring at the ground with gritted teeth. Oh…that’s why… “Y-you asked me to look after him for you…I promised, a-and I tried, I swear…but I…I-I still let ‘im die—!” He flinches at that sobbing break at the end, swearing his heart can’t take much more. It’s shattered enough already as is. “P-Pops, I…y-you forgave me…l-let go of your hatred, in the end, but…I still can’t…” Forgive himself. Yeah… Tsume knows how that feels, too… “Y-you held me…in the snow and when we were dying…” Tsume bites back a whine, “…and we were so happy…” Toboe gives another hissing sob. “I-I’m so sorry I couldn’t—! I-I wanted to—!”

The tears are coming faster now, and Toboe has to take a few seconds to catch his breath. Tsume’s almost glad. He has to remember to breathe entirely. A part of him wonders why the other two aren’t here (he’s sure they’re hearing every word), but he knows it’s probably half that they don’t want to crowd the poor kid and half that Tsume will be the best at comforting Toboe. If he needs them, though, he knows they’ll come running.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness…any of you…” Toboe whispers, and Tsume swears his heart stops. “Pops and Blue…you don’t remember anything… Y-you tried to kill me… T-there was no Granny here…or Leara…her bird… I…I-I was so alone—!” The end snaps off with a devastated sob, and Tsume rests his forehead against Toboe’s hand he holds like a lifeline, squeezing his eyes shut as a violent shudder runs through him. He can’t bring himself to be surprised when a few tears slip down his face. Jesus, kid…! The quietest, most sacred part comes last. “Is this…i-is this my punishment…?”

Oh… Okay, that is it!

There’s a choked sob, desperate and pained, and the next thing Tsume knows, he’s hugging Toboe tightly, pressing his forehead into his chest. “Okay…” he growl-breathes, low and guttural, halfway sobs; he supposes even he has a breaking point, “…okay, kid… That’s enough…please…” He doesn’t think he can take any more, but more importantly, he doesn’t think Toboe himself can either. “I don’t know if you can hear me…but if you can, I need you to listen…you hear me…?”

Toboe, despite his still-flowing tears, is quiet, brow pinched. His head has stopped moving, is essentially facing him. Tsume takes that as cue enough to keep going. He just hopes he can get through to him.

“You’re wrong… You’re wrong, damn it…!” He shakes his head vehemently, not caring when the sweat soaking Toboe’s clothes wets his face and hair. He’s here and warm and alive. That’s the most important thing there is. “No one blames you for anything…! No one is punishing you for anything…!” How can Toboe even think these things?! Why wouldn’t he tell him?! The idea alone makes Tsume want to either be sick or tear something apart. “You can’t control fate… You can’t control what the universe brings you and what it takes away—!” All he can think of is Toboe being both for him, and it makes him choke on a sob. “The only thing you can control is what you do with your life, and none of what happened before was your fault! Not a damn thing! You did the best you could! That’s all anyone can ask, you hear me, runt?!” He and Toboe haven’t talked about their lives in this world before they all met up and regained their memories, but he will as soon as he thinks it’s appropriate because, damn it…he is having a word with fate if it fucking kills him! “I promise you, Toboe…you will never be alone again! You have us, you have me! You don’t ever have to question that!”

He almost jumps when Toboe’s free hand comes up to touch his apparently-trembling shoulder, frozen as it moves up and up and up until…he melts as it starts to stroke his hair. Oh… He felt violated when Cheza did it in the old world, asleep or otherwise, but…he’s entirely conscious here (though he realizes he’d gladly fall asleep like this) and feels like he’s in Heaven… Figures it’d be because of Toboe…

His voice melts in kind. “Granny loved you, Toboe… She loved you so much, and she knows you’d never hurt her on purpose… Leara knows you didn’t mean to hurt her bird by now, I’m sure… Blue and the old man… You did keep your promise to her, Toboe… You kept the old man as safe as you could, died to protect him, and you…you are the one who turned him around in the end… That was all you, kid…!” Toboe’s tears have slowed immensely by now, lower lip trembling in touched shock. “I know, if she were here with all her memories, she’d say the same thing. Probably a hell of a lot better than I am right now…”

He breathes a laugh, moving to rest his ear over Toboe’s heart. Wouldn’t you know…? Playing his favorite lullaby… Now he’s really a goner… “Even if this world is different and new, and people we knew before aren’t the same…we’re all together, we remember, and we will reach Paradise this time. I can feel it.” A heartbeat, two. “And until then, I’ll keep you safe from the nightmares, Toboe…” he whispers, swears, into the dark. “Just trust me… Trust me like you always have...”

Because he knows, even if Toboe doesn’t remember the story he told his body, how big of a deal trust is for both of them.

Toboe’s heartbeat is steadying more and more as the seconds pass, his breathing evening out, too, hand in silver hair slowing. Tsume would look up to see if he’s stopped crying for sure, but…well, looks like those hair and heartbeat tricks worked a little too well. He smiles in his almost-sleep, adjusting their positions so he’s lying beside Toboe and carefully curling the boy close to his chest. Toboe, apparently intent on holding his hand like his life depends on it, turns to nuzzle into his chest farther than he usually would and curl a light fist in his shirt. Tsume breathes a laugh and, after blindly fixing the towel on his forehead, tucks the boy’s head under his chin.

“Night, Toboe…”

#Wolf's Rain #Wolf's Rain fanfiction #Toboe #Tsume #Quent Yaiden #Any feedback would be much appreciated #Just FYI this isn't Tsume/Toboe but if you want to see it that way hey I can't stop you Tsume's just really scarred from losing Toboe #doesn't want to hide how much he cares anymore (at least not as much)

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