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gildedkrone · 5 months

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As long as you're next to me, just the two of us

request from somebody asking for military reader with internalised homophobia. john price x male reader

"You really ought to not blow your cigar smoke onto me, you know?"

The warm embers of spent tobacco, an all too familiar sight in the dark, starry night, and he's smiling, albeit faintly. He takes an audible suck of air, and the embers glow brighter and fade into a dull orange.

"Thought yer used to it by now," Price blows the hints of something scorched gently across your nose and you fan the smoke away with a flick of your hand.

"I don't smoke, John." He blinks and nods to take another chuff of the cigar as you look away then back at him.

He says he knows. Infernally glorious bastard of a captain and he's content with the warm tranquility settled into the space and the cigar is the last thing the mind's got time for. On the rooftop, the stars are ever distant in the cosmos’s grasp and he moves to lay with his back to the railing, almost close enough to touch. But he doesn't come any closer than that and a healthy distance remains between you and him.

"How many years has it been?"

Five. Five years since he appeared in his lieutenant uniform with SAS patches sewn neatly onto the vest and now? Now, he's a captain of a famed task force and chasing a terrorist halfway across the world with a short break in between his ever-growing catalogue of missions. The rank suits him well, suits him and his beard nicely as he grew into the man standing before you.

All's well. If all's well, then why does it feel as if there's a divide between you and him?

"You know," his head angles towards you when the silence fills with murmurs, "I never did congratulate you on your promotion, John."

"Never too late to do so, sweetheart."

"You call everyone that? Bet your lieutenant wouldn't take it well. That mask—"

"Not him." The words are scented with woodsy, "Nobody else gets to be a sweetheart." And he's saying it so sincerely, it’s impossible to doubt the truth and intensity in his words.

"Exceptions? You're not being fair, captain."

He scoffs and you take the time to admire his visage with a subtle lean towards him. The left eyebrow hitches a little, then it falls back to its place and he's smiling warmly as the cigar burns away in crumbling ashes falling to the wind under the pale moonlight.

"How's your love life? Still seeing Sandy?" The sudden change of topic and you cock your head slightly and he grimaces slightly to have felt some sense of chagrin at poking the sore wound in your heart.

"We broke up a month ago." He lowers the cigar, "She just, didn't want to be in a relationship with a military man, you know? All the absences made her mad and she just ... left."

"On a Thursday afternoon."

He listens so attentively; he's reminiscent of the cadets under your care when they first arrive at sergeant bootcamp. A little awestruck and very much eager to learn and get going and you lean in closer for a look at the new-ish scar marring the area above his eyebrows.

"You've gone and hurt yourself again, eh?"

Fingers brush across the region of his face gently as his face is pliant in your hands and tilts with each nudge to facilitate your examination of his new battle scar. Eventually, you release his face and he runs a hand through his scar absentmindedly.

"You datin' again?"

"No such luck. Tinder's trash these days. All you'll ever find are people down to fuck and run. 's not much better on the other dating platforms too."

"Just women?" The parting of your lips and nothing comes out; the words don't come as they should.

"Just women. I-I ... I’ve never considered other men, John."

"Why not?"

It's a moment of confusion—you entertain his queries about manhood and love. What do you say to that? It's a minefield of emotions and memories tangled with barbs and spikes laden with the flags of youth and curiosity shaped into a spitball refusing to be verbalized.

"I don't think another man could ever love me. And ..." The forgotten cigar in his hands dull and the soft cerulean eyes are gently imploring you to continue, "I ... well, it's wrong and I ... don't know if I can do it."

He nods empathetically and you lean back into the railing to find fleeting interest in the moon. How did the conversation morph into this weird mess of clunky and awkward conversations?

"Well, I have a problem when it comes to dating." Oh? Go on, and he does go on.

"I met a man, and I don't know if he fancies me the way I fancy him."

"Really? I'm glad for you, John. What is he like?"

It's cute how his brows furrow slightly when he's in deep concentration and he says—valiant and resplendent. The vigor of the sun, the ferocity of the lion, and the tenacity of the stars.

"Valiant? Resplendent? You must really like him to hold him at such a regard."

"It's not an exaggeration, lieutenant."

Who had managed to capture John's heart to such a degree? You lose interest in the moon to lay the brunt of your attention on him. His eyes dart away into inkiness night then back at you and its kept steady as a sniper's hands in a high-tension scenario.

"Have you tried telling him? About how you feel?"

"You have tips? ‘M not sure quite how to break it to him."

He seems mildly amused by the chuckle and you regale him with strategies and tactics to win over the mystery man Price loves so much. Everything you’ve learnt from the trashy romance novels stashed in your drawers never to be seen any other service personnel. Even if they would never find their place with another man.

"So, a hand grasp and a head tilt, lots of eye contact, and a heartfelt confession? It’s certainly shorter than the list on the web.”

“Mmhm, it’s that simple.”

He asks if you would entertain his request to rehearse it. You humor him and step away from the railing to face him head on. He clears his throat and warmth envelops your hand in a hand shaped like John’s. His body posture is open and inviting, and he’s putting in the effort to treat it seriously.

His hands clasped with yours is so damn warm and fiercely domestic, and his fingers are gentle when they tilt your head upwards slightly. Something in your heart twists slightly at the endearment in his eyes; you’ve been privy to aggression, bloodlust, and anger in them. But not this. Blood hammers in your ears and you keep your face schooled in blasé calm even if his grasp is uncharacteristically soft and yet, harbored the love he had in his being.

“I love you, sweetheart.” The words are painful to hear on ears not meant for them and instincts are warring in your head in tumult.

You cough gently to realign his focus with the moment.

“Yeah, so, that is how you do it, John.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“That’s what you would say that to the man you love so much.”

His throat swallows harshly and his hand remains on your chin. He eyes search for something, and he says it again.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

What is he doing? He cuts you off before you can start.

“I’m saying it to the man I love.”

Whiplash. Whiplash at the revelation as your lips part to reveal hollow words and empty reconciliation of the revelation and your thoughts. No. This—

“I mean it. Whole heartedly. Fully.”

“John … I—I can’t love you, not—”

“I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

“Why? Why the fuck would you choose me? Of all the men and women in the world and you’ve gone and loved the one person who can’t give you anything! John, why?”

His hands are still clasped around yours and laced around your runaway heart. Don’t leave.

“Because it’s what the heart wants, love.” He tugs you in closer and in a moment of stupor, you feel the warmth emanating from him against the chilly night.

“It’s wrong—” And by god, it’s so fucking hard to tell him why it’s wrong when he’s looking at you like that. All worried and desperate to alleviate whatever you were feeling.

“I don’t want to be the fool who dies with a million regrets. And this is fixing it.”

He’s so close but he’s waiting for permission to breach the last barrier of that defensive wall built around the wastelands of the heart. He wipes away the tears which had formed, and soft lips are all you can feel when he closes the gap. Plush, soft lips press against yours and his embrace is all encompassing even as your eyes are shut to close out the world. He comes into view when warmth of his lips disappears and shakes rattle your body in his arms.

“I’ll be here for as long as you want me, sweetheart.”

He means it.

“’m not leaving, unless you tell me to.”

“John, I … I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out together. Me and you, we will find our way as a unit. Together, we’ll do it together.”

He is deadly serious again. “If you tell me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“No … I—I don’t want you to leave. I’m so fucking scared, John.”

“I’m here.” He is here. His hands on your back are proof of his existence in a world bending into a pinpoint of focus that is only John and his features and his exhales on your cheeks. What were you supposed to say? Or do?

There’s no need to do anything.

And maybe, just maybe, that is enough of a promise for you that everything is going to be ok—if it's John, and this was fine, more than fine. Your nod is what John needed to bring your foreheads together.

“Thanks fer trusting me, love.”

The hints of tobacco smoke don’t smell as acrid as they did a while ago and the night isn’t so cold anymore. Not when he wears his heart on his sleeves and draped over you in the moonlight.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist

#fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #john price #john price x male reader #john price x reader #male reader #x male reader #x reader #price fanfiction #cod x male reader

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arabian-batboy · 8 months

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I have seen some disclosures in the past about how fandoms force a non-existence "found family" dynamic between the characters then forcibly turn that found family into a "nuclear family" where they will make one character be the "dad" while one character is the "mom" and everyone else are siblings when that's not the case and while I definitely know what people mean by that and have seen it happen before, I feel like in the context of the "Batfamily," some people are taking it too far into the opposite direction.

Like first of all, depending on how you divide them, the "Batfamily" is made up by characters who are either literal family or just close friends/lovers, so I can understand why grouping all of them together and labeling them as one big family may sound confusing (but always remember, Wayne family =/= Batfamily)

Characters like Barbara, Stephanie and Duke (I might even throw in Tim & Cassandra, since they both were only adopted at 17) absolutely have an "unconventional" familial ties to each other and to Bruce, so I personally don't think you should be so eager to fit them all into a stereotypical nuclear familial roles, especially since all the characters I mentioned above (except for Cass) have one or two loving parents who have raised them all on their own without the help of Bruce and are still alive and present in their child's life (except Tim, whose parents canonly died a couple of years ago in-universe).

With that being said, sometimes characters just so happen to fit the bill of a stereotypical "nuclear family" in canon and not wanting to accept that because the children are adopted/not related by blood to their parents is fucked up.

And I say that mostly about Dick and Jason, who for for all intent and purposes were both fully adopted at 9 and 11 respectively (ignoring rectons that aged them up or the fact that Dick was a ward at first only because single men couldn't legally adopt in the 40's), so it doesn't matter how you go about it, Bruce is 100% their father and they are 100% his sons, no ifs or buts.

For me, I have seen too many people trying to down-play the fact that Batman is canonly a dad (maybe because they don't think its cool? Idk) by pretending that him and his literal children are just a found family or just partners and accusing anyone who refer to them as parent-and-child of diminishing this found family and forcing them into a "nuclear" family when that's not case with them.

Referring to an adult man who fully adopted a young child to raise them as his own as that child's dad isn't forcing them into a nuclear family, because he's LITERALLY their dad? That's just common sense.

#btw this still apply to Tim & Cass #the reason I separated from Jason & Dick is because their relationship with Bruce is a bit too unconventional #in the sense that Bruce didn't start out being Tim's dad #he was his mentor at first #and only adopted him at 17 when Tim's loving dad (contrary to fanon) died #and with Cass.....I mean lets be real they hardly interacted after Bruce adopted her #canonly Barbara was more of a parent to her than him #he's still their dad tho but again THEY are not a nuclear family #Bruce Wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #Stephanie brown #tim drake #cassandra cain #duke thomas #barbara gordon

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bethanydelleman · 3 months

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What do you think Austen encompasses when she refers to “taste” and “manners”? I’m trying to think past the obvious but I don’t really know what these concepts meant in the early 19th century, but they were clearly important descriptives.

Thanks for your thoughts!

This is a big question, as Jane Austen's works are often described as a "comedy of manners" and the concept of taste comes up a lot! There are certainly nuances in the way she uses these words. I'm going to do taste in this response and manners in another post because this got long.

Taste comes in two forms, natural and educated. Lady Catherine in Pride & Prejudice snobbishly describes herself as having the former:

There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient.

While this is most likely a jab at people who claim natural taste while being uneducated, and a display of Lady Catherine's misplaced pride. In Sense & Sensibility, Elinor defends Edward by claiming he has natural taste:

“What a pity it is, Elinor,” said Marianne, “that Edward should have no taste for drawing.”

“No taste for drawing!” replied Elinor, “why should you think so? He does not draw himself, indeed, but he has great pleasure in seeing the performances of other people, and I assure you he is by no means deficient in natural taste, though he has not had opportunities of improving it. Had he ever been in the way of learning, I think he would have drawn very well. He distrusts his own judgment in such matters so much, that he is always unwilling to give his opinion on any picture; but he has an innate propriety and simplicity of taste, which in general direct him perfectly right.”

Now "taste" doesn't seem to only be "the ability to discern what is of good quality or of a high aesthetic standard." it also speaks to execution, as we see here in Northanger Abbey:

Her taste for drawing was not superior; though whenever she could obtain the outside of a letter from her mother or seize upon any other odd piece of paper, she did what she could in that way, by drawing houses and trees, hens and chickens, all very much like one another.

This sentence would suggest the definition of taste to be something like "skill". Etymoline gives this definition:

Also from c. 1300 in English as "to touch, to handle." From early 14c. as "have experience or knowledge of" (of bliss, bitterness, etc.). The meaning "exercise the sense of taste" is recorded from late 14c.... The meaning "aesthetic judgment, artistic sensibility, faculty of discerning and appreciating what is excellent" is attested by mid-15c... The sense of "fact or condition of liking or preferring something, inclination" is from late 14c.

Henry Tilney talks about taste as something like skill as well:

“I should no more lay it down as a general rule that women write better letters than men, than that they sing better duets, or draw better landscapes. In every power, of which taste is the foundation, excellence is pretty fairly divided between the sexes.”

Austen also makes a bit of a pun about taste, would not disgust a young person of taste, when talking about the merits of novels.

We see taste associated with education again here:

They were viewing the country with the eyes of persons accustomed to drawing, and decided on its capability of being formed into pictures, with all the eagerness of real taste. Here Catherine was quite lost. She knew nothing of drawing—nothing of taste... her attention was so earnest that he became perfectly satisfied of her having a great deal of natural taste.

Similar to Pride & Prejudice: Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth’s performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste.

And then of course, we have Elizabeth's admiration of Darcy's taste when she sees Pemberley:

Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste... The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine,—with less of splendour, and more real elegance, than the furniture of Rosings.

And again, the association with education:

She listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good manners.

Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who with some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.

So, to sum up this massive litany of quotes, natural taste seems to be an inclination in the right direction, which can be honed with proper education. Real taste comes from a place of education. There seems to be a suggestion that one type of taste can be correct, it is not just a matter of opinion. Jane Austen argues that novels should be a part of that "correct" taste. I imagine that taste changed with movements, such as Romanticism and the idea of the picturesque.

#question response #taste #jane austen #word use #word definitions

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mouschiwrites · 6 months

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hihi!! Can I get a Stan Marsh X fem! reader whos really quiet but also opinionated on a million things BUT she can't talk about it cause nobody ever bring up feminism in a normal conversation.?

Of course dearest! Sorry this came out a little short ^^"

Word count: 542

South Park - Stan With a Quiet but Opinionated Reader

Stan was scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he reclined on your bed. You were on your own phone next to him with your legs stretched out across his lap. You had both been quiet for a while now, but silence was never uncomfortable between you two. Especially because you weren’t a particularly talkative person, and neither was Stan. So, whenever you were together, you frequently looked just like this: silent, just basking in each others’ presence.

You were scrolling through a particularly outrageous thread of posts on social media. With each post you read, you could feel anger turning in your stomach like a ball of hot lead. You couldn’t believe how ignorant this person was being, and it wasn’t long until you reached your breaking point.

“Idiot,” you grumbled.

Stan looked up. “Who?”

“Not you,” you shook your head, eyes locked on your screen. “This ignorant buffoon. I mean, he’s clearly just babbling. Had he done any real research, he wouldn’t be saying this stuff.”

Curious at your unusual passion, Stan moved over so you were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. You handed him your phone, letting him scroll through the posts himself.

“I mean, he’s the reason why people are so uneducated. They see posts like that and they’re totally misled! I can’t even blame them, really. I can only blame the greedy misers who push this stuff.”

Stan was glancing between the phone and you. He was far more interested in what you were saying, but he pretended to be reading. “I see what you mean.”

“And nobody ever brings it up! How are we supposed to correct people who actually buy this garbage if we don’t talk about it in real life?”

“That does make things difficult.” He put the phone down, cocking his head as he turned his full attention to you. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about this.” Or about anything. She’s so quiet…

You shrugged, taking back your phone. “Like I said, no one brings it up.”

“Is there anything else like that? Stuff that gets you all riled up?” He was eager to see more. That passion in your eyes was captivating. He smirked as an expression of gratitude passed over your face.

“One second. I have some posts saved.”

You spent hours ranting to him about your opinions. Frankly, your attention to detail was impressive; your viewpoints were foolproof. Clearly you’d spent a lot of time ruminating over these things. And researching. You seemed to know everything about both sides of the argument, and you expertly dismantled the opposition.

“You should join the debate team or something.”

You blinked, turning a little red in the face at the mere idea. You shook your head.

“I’m serious. You’re, like, amazing. I’ve seen politicians with less tact.”

A new passion lit in your eyes. “That’s another thing. So many politicians are so ignorant these days. And why? Because they’re all old men stuck in the 1700s.”

Stan snorted, gearing up to listen to yet another rant. A small smile graced his lips as he watched you ramble. This side of you was undeniably attractive.

No one brings this stuff up, you say? He thought to himself. Well, maybe I’ll have to start doing just that.

Thank you for the request, and thank you for reading! Take care little starlights <33

(divider by saradika)

#south park #south park x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #stan x reader

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late-to-the-party-81 · 7 months

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Tsumthing Unexpected

AN: I have no excuse. I got Tsum Tsum on my@buckybarnesbingo card (C4) and was reminded of the fics I’ve read on AO3 by helens78, buckybleeds and Tiger_Niki. So… yeah…I could have made something fluffy and sweet. I didn’t.

I’m envisaging the Large Tsum tsums here.

Beta’d by @zenaidamacrouras1 who now needs mind bleach and probably some counselling

Dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and (questionable) art by me (NSFT version on my AO3 account)

Master list | BBB Master list

Summary: Bucky hates wizards. He especially hates wizards who transform his boyfriends into sentient stuffies when they had a weekend of sex planned. Sam and Joaquín don’t think their plans should change, even if they can only communicate in beeps.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Sam Wilson x Joaquín Torres

Word count: 4k

CW: Author is going to hell, Crack Fic, slight angst and discussions of polyamory, magical transformation, Tsum Tsum Sam Wilson, Tsum Tsum Joaquín Torres, Sentient stuffies, Crack Smut, Bucky can’t believe what he’s actually doing, Enthusiastic consent (even if it is made with beeps) overuse of the word ‘flipper’, It’s so wrong and I’m so sorry, but also not sorry.

If there was one thing Bucky really hated, it was wizards. Sorcerers. Magicians. Whatever they called themselves. All of them were capital T trouble and the one that he, Sam and Quín were currently up against was no exception. Completely psychopathic, he’d given himself the epitaph of ‘The ToyMaster’ and had been terrorising the East Coast for weeks, kidnapping people and using some unknown magic to turn them into toys for his collection.

Now here the three heroes were, storming The ToyMaster’s lair, intent on stopping his madness. It had taken some time to locate it, but now they had, Bucky was eager to bring the miscreant to justice. He’d like to say it was because he had a burning desire to stop him - and that wasn’t untrue - but more than that, he just wanted to be back at home, either in the house 40 minutes outside of New Orleans, or in the apartment in D.C. with the men he loved.

Their dynamic was new Bucky had been very confused at first, both with the way that his heart rate had picked up when Joaquín had overtly flirted with him, but also with the way that when Joaquín had flirted with Sam as well, Bucky hadn’t felt any jealousy or anxiety at all. In fact, all he’d felt was a rush of arousal, images of Sam and Joaquín kissing - touching - filling his head and making him want. It had taken a few shots of Asgardian Mead for him to build up the courage to speak to Sam about it.

They’d been in their house, home after a rough mission - hence the alcohol - with Bucky resting his head in Sam’s lap as they both pretended to watch the TV. He’d been running what he’d wanted to say around and around in his mind during their companionable silence before he finally got the guts to say it.

“Sam?” Even to himself his voice had sounded uncharacteristically nervous. “You don’t get upset, or anything, when Quín flirts with me, do you?”

Sam hadn’t replied straight away, continuing to stroke Bucky’s hair with one hand, and lifting his beer to his lips with the other, taking a long drink from it, before placing it back down. Bucky’s heart had been in his mouth when Sam had looked down at him, his dark topaz eyes unreadable.

“Sugar, I get as upset as you do when he flirts with me. Which is to say I get the opposite of upset.”

Bucky had felt his eyes widen, his head spinning from Sam’s words, although he was certain the alcohol was helping increase the feeling of discombobulation. He’d reached his hand up, cupping Sam’s cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and the scratch of his facial hair. “But I love you, Sam. Why are my feelings all confused?”

Sam had smiled then, revealing the too-cute gap between his teeth and crinkles had formed around his eyes. “I know you do, baby. Never had any doubts. But sometimes, some people have really big hearts. Hearts that are so big that there’s room for more than one person. I’ve always had thoughts about that myself. Never been with anyone else who’d consider it though. Jay is cute though.”

Sam had sat back and took another pull of his beer, leaving Bucky to ruminate on what he’d said. Fifteen minutes passed, a new episode of the show started, and Bucky had let his thoughts have a voice again.

“Quín likes both of us, doesn’t he? And you like him as well as me. And I… I like him as well as you. What would it be?”

“I dunno, Buck. We don’t really know what Jay wants. Maybe he just wants the fantasy. Maybe a one-time experience to look back on to say he’s done it. Potentially he wants the whole thing - a relationship. We won’t know unless we take the next step.”

Bucky had mused for another few moments, watching the play of light from the TV over the angles of Sam’s face. “And do you want to take that next step?” Sam lent forward and pressed a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips.

“Only if you want to, Sugar. We’re a team here, and that’s not gonna change.”

“You been thinking about this for a while then? Why didn’t you bring it up sooner?” Bucky had quizzed.”

“I thought it would be better for your oblivious, geriatric ass to process it a bit first. Didn’t want to freak you out by bringing up threesomes and polyamory and risk a heart attack.” The skin around Sam’s eyes had crinkled as he teased Bucky.

“Geriatric?” Bucky’s expression had been one of faux indignation and he’d grabbed a cushion and whomped Sam with it, before sitting up and looming over him. “I’ll show you who’s geriatric.”

A week later, after another successful mission, sat in a booth in a quiet part of their favourite D.C. bar, they had taken the next step, Sam’s molasses smooth voice letting Quín know that if he wanted to do something about how he felt about the two of them, then the ball was in his court. Sam and Bucky had held hands on top of the tables, both proffering their empty hands across the scarred wood. Joaquín had blushed, but taken their hands in his. Warm and surprisingly soft.

A few weeks had passed since then. Joaquín obviously hadn’t wanted a one night thing, although the memories of that first night will be forever seared in Bucky’s brain. The only word to describe it would be transcendent. Joaquín still had his own place - wasn’t with them twenty four seven - but this weekend Bucky and Sam had planned on giving Quín a set of keys - to both the house and the apartment. They’d also planned on a lot of sex. However, they had a narcissistic megalomaniac to deal with first and he was definitely pissing Bucky off.

The main problem was that it was difficult to tell which of those currently fighting them were mindless drones of the ToyMaster’s invention, and which were real people he��d transformed. They were having to use non-lethal force and hope that when - if - the victims got transformed back there wouldn’t be any lasting damage.

Bucky was running through the warehouse complex, trying to get to the centre where the ToyMaster was bouncing around with unreserved glee. He was also having to not punch a bunch of clowns as hard in the face as he wanted to. Sam and Quín were darting through the sky, armed with tranquilisers, taking out the unwilling henchmen and women who were shooting them with abandon.

For a moment, Bucky actually felt as though he was making some headway, fighting his way through the throng and getting closer to the villain, but then it all went wrong. The world slowed down around him as two life size Barbie dolls, their movements stilted by their fixed arm positions and their reduced points of articulation, pulled some kind of multicoloured circus style cannon from one of the warehouses. They aimed it up at the sky, and with a deafening boom and a burst of glitter, Sam and Quín fell to the ground.

“No!” The sound of his own voice startled Bucky out of his stupor, and with renewed vigour he forced his way through, leaping up on to the small covered dais the ToyMaster was jigging atop. He had absolutely no qualms about hurting this psychopath. “Don’t,” punch, “hurt,” punch, “my,” punch, “boyfriends!” The Toymaster crumpled to the floor and immediately his transformed toys stopped what they were doing and crumpled to the floor, like puppets with their strings cut. Bucky didn’t waste any time - he ran straight over to where Sam and Joaquín were lying still on the floor. Or rather where the strange toys were that had been Sam and Joaquín.

“What the fuck?” Bucky dropped to his knees. Both of them appeared to be soft toy versions of themselves, but if they’d been turned into cylinders. Instead of hands and feet, they had little flippers and were about 18 inches long. The one that was obviously Sam had a little scowl on its face - beady little black eyes looking up at Bucky from underneath a miniature pair of red tinted goggles. Joaquín appeared to be sleeping, letting out little snores and a bubble of drool.

“Meep!” said Sam. “Meeeeeeeeep!”

“Jesus Christ…” Bucky pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled a number. “Hey Doc, it’s Barnes. I’ve got something really strange I need you to look at…”

With a sigh, Bucky placed Sam and Joaquín down on the bed. Joaquín was awake now and he and Sam were beeping away at each other. Bucky was glad they at least had each other to talk to, although he was intrigued as to what they were actually saying.

Strange had portaled over with Wong before Bucky had even hung up his call. The two sorcerers had looked over Sam, Quín and all the other transfigured people, before stepping to the side to chat. Bucky was sitting on the dusty floor, with a still sleeping Joaquín in his lap and Sam angrily shuffling around the floor, beeping and waving his front flippers around indignantly. Bucky had to admit that, now the shock had worn off a bit and Strange and Co. were on the case, his boyfriends’ toy forms were rather cute.

“Sergeant?” Bucky turned his head and looked up at Doctor Strange. “Wong and I are going to work with SWORD to get all the other victims somewhere safe while we work on a spell to return them to normal. Your captive is not being very helpful in that regard, although that is made more difficult by the fact he has a broken jaw.” Bucky raised an eyebrow and refused to feel sorry. “However,” Strange continued, “we don’t see that there would be an issue with you taking the Captain and the new Falcon home with you. They’d probably prefer that to being in a sterile hospital environment.”

“Meeeeeep! Meep beep, be-beeep!” Sam wiggled his way across the ground and started to smack at Strange’s booted foot with a flipper. Bucky chuckled as Strange looked down at Sam, eyes wide with confusion.

“I think he doesn’t appreciate being left out of the conversation, Doc. I haven’t worked out how to communicate with him yet, but he is still Sam and he does appear to have all his faculties.” Sam hopped around to face Bucky and glared. Bucky couldn’t help it.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry. You know that, Sammy?”

“Beep beep beeeeep!” Bucky didn’t need a translator to work out what Sam was saying then.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I take it you’d like to go home until this gets sorted out? Waggle your right flipper for yes and your left for no.”

Sam’s right flipper went up in the air, waving so fast it was a blur.

“Well,” Strange drawled. “That settles it. Where do you want to go?”

Bucky had decided on the D.C. apartment - it was smaller and his thinking was that he could keep track of his fuzzy-formed boyfriends easier. Also, being so central he could get take-out and grocery deliveries so he wouldn’t need to worry about leaving them alone. Quín had woken up just before he’d stepped through the portal, one boyfriend in each arm. Unlike Sam, Quín didn’t seem to be in any way distressed by this turn of events, and just huffed a cute sigh into Bucky’s neck and beeped quietly.

WIth them safely ensconced on the bed, Bucky sat down beside them and took off his boots and tactical jacket, still trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. Right now Sam and he were supposed to be reducing Quín to a gibbering, drooling wreck, but instead he had to babysit two sentient fluffy burritos.

There was a nugging against his thigh and he looked down to see Joaquín butting up against him. Bucky smiled at him. He really was extra cute in this form. “Hey, baby-boy. What can I help you with?”

“Beep!” Joaquín tilted to the side and wiggled one of his back flippers, and then peered over the edge of the bed to look at Bucky’s boots.

“You want your boots off?”

Joaquín smiled at him. “Meep.” He then rolled over and wiggled, the tiny zipper on his suit moving with him.

Bucky’s lips twitched at the corners, and he smothered a laugh. “You want it all off? Well I suppose, even like this, it can’t be comfortable to have that suit on for longer than is needed. Come on then.”

Bucky plucked the fuzzy boots from each little flipper, and Joaquín waggled them endearingly once they were free to the air. Next Bucky gripped the suit zipper between his left thumb and forefinger and gently pulled it down. Joaquín let out another cute sigh as Bucky peeled it from him, however, there was something, or rather two things, that were unexpected.

Considering the fact that Quín, and presumably Sam had removable suits, Bucky had assumed that all of their clothes had been replicated in fuzzy form, but just like a doll, there was only one layer. Joaquín was naked underneath his suit. However, unlike a doll, he was not rocking the androgynous ‘Ken doll’ look.

“Okay…,” Bucky breathed out. “That’s a tiny fuzzy nubbin penis.”

Meeeeeep!” Joaquín squeaked indignantly.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I…uh… just didn’t expect it.”

Joaquín huffed, hopped around and then wiggled his way across the bed. Bucky’s eyes went wide, because Joaquín also had a fuzzy little butthole too. He brought a palm up to his face.

“If I could go back to being a pile of dust right now, that would be way less weird…”

“Beep?”

Bucky uncovered his eyes and saw Sam smiling up at him.

“Hey, baby. How are you doing? Strange day or what?”

“Meep-meep.” Fuzzy toy Sam still had the gap in his tooth, and Bucky had the overriding urge to just cuddle him. He picked Sam up, flipper arms and legs flapping and gave him a small squeeze, resting his face on Sam’s side. Sam twisted a little in his arms and pressed a furry kiss to Bucky’s nose.

“Meep beep meep.”

“Yeah, love you too, Sam. Do you also want out of your suit? You and Quín can be naked little fuzzies together.”

“Phht.” Sam blew him a raspberry and Bucky chuckled once again, before placing him down and divesting him of his clothes. Once naked, Sam made his way across the bed towards Joaquín, who was starting to fall asleep again, but not before he looked back at Bucky, waggled his eyebrows and shook his fuzzy ass. Bucky just looked at him.

“Really, Sam? Even as a cuddly toy you’re still flirting? Fuck my life.” Bucky slapped his hands down onto his thighs and stood up. “I’m off to get a shower. Please, for the love of God, don’t get into any trouble in the next 10 minutes. Maybe you could take a leaf out of Quín’s book and have a nap?

Sam shrugged then cuddled his nude form up against Quín’s. “Me-meep.”

Bucky shook his head, and headed into the bathroom.

Bucky ended up spending longer in the shower than anticipated. He still couldn’t seem to get his head around it. Sure, he’d seen - and done - some weird shit in his time, but this was ridiculous.

He stepped out of the cubicle, wrapped a towel around his waist and was rubbing at his hair with another when he became aware of strange noises coming from the bedroom. Strange squeaky noises.

“What the hell?” He threw the smaller towel into the sink and walked back into the bedroom.

And stopped.

Mouth open.

His brain stalling as his eyes processed the sheer insanity he was seeing.

Joaquín was lying on his back and was the source of the squeaky noises. Noises that were being caused by Sam laying half over him, his tiny mouth stretched around Quín’s tiny nubbin penis.

“Jesus Christ guys!” Bucky’s vocal chords started up again as his legs propelled him across the room to the bed. “Really? You're horny? At a time like this?”

Sam opened his eyes, rolled them, but didn’t stop what he was doing. Joaquín carried on squeaking, and making breathy sighs.

Bucky didn’t know why he was that surprised - Joaquín had proven himself to be quite insatiable the past few weeks and they had planned on spending most of the weekend in bed. It seemed that his boyfriends had decided not to let a little thing like magical transformation get in the way.

What was more disturbing to Bucky though, was the fact that, somehow, this wasn’t NOT doing something for him. Despite the fact that Sam and Quín weren’t in human form, seeing them love on each other was having an effect on Bucky’s cock that his brain really thought it shouldn’t.

Joaquín’s squeaks were getting louder and louder, and once again, a translator wasn’t needed to work out what was happening. But then, Sam stopped. He pulled back from Quín and Bucky was shocked at the look of his young boyfriends plushie cock. Somehow it had changed colour, turning pinker at the end, just as his cock did when he was… normal. Bucky could see how it was straining, and it was also weeping. And this was so wrong!

Then it got wronger.

Joaquín moved his little head and looked at Bucky, eyes wide and squeaked straight at him.

“Meep!”

He wiggled his ass.

“Meep-meep!”

Bucky blanched. “Nuh-uh! No-fucking-way. Nope!”

Quín’s little face turned down. “Meeeeeeeep.” He sounded so dejected and Bucky immediately felt bad. He reached out to cup his cuddly head.

“Look, baby. I still love you, even though you’re a cuddly toy, but it just feels wrong to… you know… while you’re like this.”

Joaquín sniffed and fuck, was that a tear rolling down his soft squishy face?

“MEEP!” Sam headbutted Bucky’s thigh and glared at him, brows drawn together. “Me-meep beep, beep beep be-meep!” He looked straight at the tented towel in Bucky’s lap.

“Just because I’m aroused doesn’t mean I should actually do anything about it, Sam.”

Sam didn’t squeak back, but did something Bucky wasn’t anticipating - he took hold of the edge of the towel in his mouth and pulled it away, revealing Bucky’s aching cock to the cold air. Joaquín rolled back onto his front and waddled closer. Bucky was frozen to the spot as Joaquín pulled himself up onto Bucky’s lap and then began to back up towards his goal.

At the first touch of soft fuzz against his aching dick, Bucky panicked and grabbed Joaquín around his waist with both his hands, moving him away. “Woah! Wait a minute!” Joaquín waggled his four mini appendages and Bucky realised as he did that he was probably squeezing a little too hard. However, Joaquín didn’t seem to mind the man-handling - toy-handling? - because he let out a little purring noise and trembled in Bucky’s grip. His cock also gave a little twitch, brushing against Bucky’s fingers.

“You really want this, don’t you?” Bucky asked as he turned Quín around in his hands. Joaquín nodded enthusiastically. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Be-beep.” Joaquín replied and somehow Bucky knew what he meant.

Sam spat out the towel and with a front flipper patted Bucky on the leg to get his attention, and then flapped it towards the bedside drawer.

“Yeah - um - probably a good idea. I just hope I can get it out of the fluff. After.”

Shit. Was he really going to do this?

But despite his reservations he found himself placing Joaquín on his lap and leaning across to grab the bottle of lube from the drawer. Joaquín squeaked with joy and wiggled his ass. When he realised he was finally getting what he wanted Bucky smirked. “Yes, yes, baby. I’m getting there.”

He slicked up his cock then, wiping his hand on the discarded towel, placed one hand on Joquín’s fuzzy back and angled his cock towards the soft opening with the other. There was little resistance as he pressed forwards and Joaquín let out a happy squeal, not unlike the one he’d made the first time Bucky had fucked him.

“Oh God!” Despite the easy give, Joaquín was still deliciously tight around him - warm and soft. And there was something so taboo about this and he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t…

Bucky’s hands tightened again around Joaquín but he was no longer worried. Joaquín squeaked and chirped as Bucky used him like a flesh light, moving him up and down his cock, that was so hard he thought it would break.

“Fuck! Feels so good, baby. Shit. Just wanna keep doing this and never stop. Keep you like this all the time. My living sex toy. Fuck, Quín! I’m gonna…”

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip and came, feeling his releasing pumping inside of Quín’s soft body, as Quín himself let out a strangled squeak. Bucky felt a dribble of hot stickiness coat his hands and thighs as Joaquín came.

Bucky was breathing hard as he slowly pulled out and watched as his cum ran out over the soft material of Joaquín’s ass. Next to him, Sam let out a high pitched coo, and pushed his way under Bucky’s arm to get onto his lap as well, and without any ceremony pushed his plushy face up against Joaquín’s leaking hole.

Bucky let out a bark of laughter and lay back, his head propped on a pillow so he could watch the frankly insane scene in front of him. Joaquín purred as Sam ate him out, his boneless body lax on Bucky’s lap. After a few minutes Sam shuffled back, and partially turned to look at Bucky, the fluff on his face a mess from Bucky’s cum.

“Meep. Me-beep beep.” He waved a flipper at Joaquín and Bucky looked over to see that once again Joaquín was asleep.

Feeling rather foolish, Bucky placed Quín down on the bed, up by the pillow and pulled the coverlet up over him. He turned to Sam.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Sam waggled his eyebrows and licked his lips, staring at Bucky’s cock that, thanks to serum, was already back at full mast.

“Meep meep.”

Bucky shook his head from side to side and rolled his eyes.

“Come here then, you fuzzy pervert.”

It was the sound of voices, low and conversational, that woke Bucky the next morning. He stretched out in the bed and as his hands met cold sheets either side of him, and not warm bodies, his memories kicked in. He sat up with a start.

Where were Sam and Joaquín? Why the fuck weren’t their fuzzy asses in the bed?

“If those two are fucking again, I swear to god…” he muttered to himself as he threw off the coverlet and grabbed a pair of pajama pants. Then he realised.

The voices. They were Sam and Quín’s. Actual words and not beeps.

He ran through the door, skidding across the hardwood floor to where his boyfriends were chatting, leaning against the breakfast bar, and threw an arm around each of them. He pressed a hard kiss to Sam’s smiling lips and then turned to plant one on Quín as well.

“You’re back! Thank fuck for that.”

A cough sounded from across the breakfast bar and Bucky looked up to see the no-nonsense face of Wong looking back at him. Bucky threw the sorcerer an unusually broad grin.

“Hey! Thanks, man. Thank you for giving me my boyfriends back. How are all the others?”

Wong's face softened. “They’re fine, Sergeant. In the end it was relatively simple to turn everyone back.”

“Madisynn figured it out,” Joaquín clarified with a smirk. Wong scowled at him.

“The universe has a funny way of providing solutions from the most unexpected of places.” He jumped down from his stool and straightened his top with both hands. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have so important Sorcerer Supreme business to attend to.” He swirled his hand in the air and a portal opened in a shower of golden sparks. With a nod to the three men he stepped through.

“Say hi to Synn for me,” Joaquín shouted after him and then they all watched as the portal closed.

Bucky pulled Sam and Joaquín in tighter to him. “I’m so glad to have you both back. I never want to go through anything like that again.”

“It was certainly fucking weird,” Sam agreed, but Joaquín just raised an eyebrow at Bucky.

“You mean you didn’t like using me as a sex toy?” he teased.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “Baby, you don’t need to be transformed into a stuffy for that. I can use you like a sex toy any time I wanna.”

“Prove it,” Joaquín shot back with a challenging smile, his dark eyes twinkling.

Bucky growled and canted his hips, and his hard dick, against Joaquín’s thigh. “I did, last week. And anyway - I think it’s Sam’s turn as he missed out last night.”

Sam moved around Bucky to press himself against Joaquín’s back and trail his lips up his neck. “Damn right it’s my turn.” His voice was deep and Bucky felt his heart pounding in his chest.

Joaquín slipped from their grasp and ran off towards the bedroom, laughing, Sam hot on his heels. Bucky watched them for a moment, hearts in his eyes. He loved them both so much and couldn’t wait until later when they gave Joaquín the keys. But first, there were ‘other’ things to attend to. He knocked back the remains of Sam’s coffee with a grimace and then followed his two loves into the bedroom.

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @christywrites @doasyoudesireandlive

If you want to be on my tag list check out the link on my master list.

#SamBuckQuin #Crack fic #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes x Joaquin Torres #Late writes #bucky barnes bingo #bbb2023

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robotgirlfoxears · 8 months

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In Progress fanfic for fallout new Vegas between Ulysses and my courier, Victoria (goes by Vic).

Vic sat down on a rock beside Ulysses with a sigh. The camp had grown since last she saw him. Now there was a small campfire and a makeshift tent overlooking the expanses. The man she had come to see sat stoically but she could sense a weariness to him she hadn't seen before. Was he letting his guard down? Vic sat and fidgeted for a few minutes, her mind racing and her heart pounding. She couldn't hide it even if she wanted to. No, Ulysses deserves to see her as she truly is.

"Courier. Do you intend to stay long?"

"Am I welcome to?"

"You have more right to be here than I."

A few minutes passed in silence, a few marked men walked the streets of Hopeville below. Whether they noticed the two couriers was hard to say. Then Vic turned to look at Ulysses.

"I know this probably means very little coming from me but I feel you deserve to know that I truly am sorry. You are right to blame me. I was careless and abandoned my home--our home. It was that carelessness that took something special from you. I don't expect to be forgiven but I needed to let you know that."

What seemed like an eternity passed. Oh god had she insulted him? Had she become just as mocking as the White Legs? Oh god oh god-

"Thank you, Courier. Far too many people in this world shirk their responsibilities, turn their lives into a meaningless array of actions and words until demise. You bear the weight of your actions like a cross from Caesar and yet you do it with a grace I've seen in few women and fewer men."

Vic stared with mouth agape. He....respected her? After all she'd done? Just a few words and that's it??

"You seem surprised, Victoria. Why?"

"Well I.... I don't know what to say."

"Then let the silence speak for you."

Almost half an hour passed. The two sat looking on into the sands thinking. It felt necessary.

"Was speaking with me your only intention for coming here, or is there another purpose in your step?"

"Well I've been doing a lot of thinking and I think you're right-this *is* my home and I have a responsibility to tend to it, even in this state."

"You intend to make up for your actions by punishing yourself?" Ulysses laughed, something Vic had never heard before. "Perhaps I haven't been the best influence on you then. Your actions are history and no punishment will remedy that."

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"I'm not finished, Victoria. While your past is unchangable, your future is unwritten. Don't throw it away like I do."

"I......I guess you're right as usual. Still, I feel the need to be here. Even if I don't make it my home I'm going to visit more often so you'd better get used to me". Vic laughed nervously.

"I....I think I might enjoy that. It's hard to spend so long obsessing over someone without growing a bit...fond."

What?!?! Did he actually just say that? Fond?? After everything? Respect was hard enough to believe but fondness? Had the radiation in the Divide screwed with his head?

"I can tell you're surprised again, courier. I suppose that's understandable given everything I've done."

Everything he's done? Even if he did go through with his plan it wouldn't've hurt nearly as many people as the victims of The Divide (both the original inhabitants and the marked men).

"Even if you had gone through with it, it's nothing like what I did."

Ulysses chuckled to himself again. She really did learn, maybe too well.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Absolutely."

"Well it's about history-my history to be exact. A part of it I'm not sure you've heard."

Ulysses looked at Vic intently, like an eager student ready to learn.

"Well, my culture has been taken from me too. My father's ancestors, the Acjachemen, were colonized and assimilated. We were't allowed to speak our own language or practice our own customs. We were expected to either become like our colonizers or die trying."

"I am truly sorry for your loss, Victoria. I know that loneliness, that gaping hole in your chest of knowing you're missing something but being so far removed that the memory, however tight you hold on, begins to fade."

"It's nice knowing someone who can sympathize. It's...hard to talk about especially because I'm so far removed I almost feel like I don't have the right."

#fallout new vegas #colonialism cw #Ulysses fnv #fallout fanfic

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wisdomrays · 1 year

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SHAWQ and ISHTIYAQ (Joyful Zeal and Yearning)

Literally meaning strong desire, excessive wishing, joy issuing from knowing, delight, and longing, shawq (joyful zeal) is used by Sufis to express the heart's overwhelming desire to meet with the Beloved, Who cannot be comprehended and "vanishes" after being "observed" Some have described it as joyful desire, excitement, and a lover's excessive heartfelt longing to see the Face of the Beloved. Others have regarded it as a fire that reduces to ashes all desires, wishes, yearnings, and inclinations other than those felt to meet with the Beloved.

Joyful zeal originates in love. The remedy of a heart burning with such a longing to meet with the Beloved is meeting with Him, and shawq is a wing of light that carries the lover to this meeting. Zeal disappears when a lover finds the Beloved, while yearning for Him (ishtiyaq) continues to increase. One who yearns for Him never stops yearning and, whenever favored with a special manifestation of His Essence, wishes for more. This is why the prince of the Prophets and the greatest of humanity, upon him be peace and blessings, who, equipped at each moment with a new radiance of knowledge and love of God and spiritual delight, incessantly traveled between the summits of love, joyful zeal, and yearning, and used to pray: O God! I ask You for zeal to observe Your perfectly beautiful Face and to meet with You.

Some interpreters of the Qur'an, when writing on: Those who believe are firmer in love of God (2:265), remark that joyful zeal is felt toward things that are partly perceivable and partly imperceivable, partly comprehensible and partly incomprehensible. One feels no zeal toward that which he or she has never seen or heard of, or about which he or she knows nothing. Nor does he or she feel interest in that which he or she completely comprehends or perceives.

Zeal and yearning can be divided into two categories. The first is the yearning produced by separation from the Beloved after meeting with and gazing upon Him in the past eternity. The sighs that the flute of Rumi uttered, and the creaking, painful sounds heard by Yunus Emre from the revolving water-wheel express such a separation. These sighs will continue until the final union or meeting with Him. The second is when a lover sees the Beloved from behind a veil, and thus cannot completely comprehend Him. The believer feels His presence but cannot see Him; dips a finger into the honey of love but is not allowed to take a new step further. Consumed with thirst, the believer cries: I am being consumed with thirst! Give me some water! but receives no answer.

The spirit of all men and women observed Him in an assembly of past eternity, where God asked them: Am I not your Lord? and they answered: Yes, assuredly. We testify! After this assembly, either because humanity's very humanness required it or because humanity had to be tested, to believe in Him without seeing Him, humanity was thrown into the pangs of temporary separation. This is why people always dream of Him in conscious or unconscious longing for Him, and burn with a yearning to re-unite with Him. What is more significant than this is the yearning which the Most Sacred Being feels toward pure, innocent, and unadulterated souls, but only in a way that is appropriate for His essential independence of all being. This Divine eagerness may be the real source of the yearning that enters one's heart.

Zeal means turning to the Beloved with all inner and outer feelings, and locking out all appetites other than those felt to meet with Him. In the context of yearning, it means one's over-flowing with desires and wishes related to Him. Both zeal and yearning feed the spirit. Both are painful but exhilarating and wearisome, distressing but promising.

No individual experiences more anguish but is happier than the one who burns with love and groans with zeal. Such people become so angelic when enraptured with the thought and hope of meeting with God that they would not agree to enter Paradise at that moment, even if allowed to do so. They burn inwardly with the pangs of separation to such a degree that even the waters of Paradise could not extinguish the fire in their hearts. Only meeting with the Friend could extinguish such a fire. Paradoxically, they never think of escaping that fire, for even if the palaces of Paradise prevented them from burning with the fire of zeal to meet with the Friend, such people would utter cries resembling those of the inhabitants of Hell seeking to be rescued from Hellfire. Worldly people cannot know what that zeal means or the state of those who possess it. People of zeal are amazed at worldly people who are so engrossed in worldly affairs and plea-sure. Their amazement is quite natural, for God Almighty told the Prophet David, upon him be peace:

O David! If those who love and show inclination to the world knew how much I care about them, want them to resist against sins, and how I expect to meet with human beings, they would be dying with the zeal to meet with Me.

When the zeal to meet with God invades a lover's being, the result is an overflow of feelings of pain and delight, and cries of:

Zeal has bewildered me, zeal has burnt me.

Zeal has intervened between sleep and my eyes.

Zeal has invaded me, zeal has engrossed me.

Zeal has overwhelmed me, zeal has stricken me with awe.

This degree of zeal sometimes incites the lover to stand up and dance or spin. The lover should be excused for such movements, as he or she cannot resist such a spiritual state:

Say to him who wants to prevent a man of ecstasies from going into ecstasies:

You have not tasted the wine of love together with us, so leave us.

When souls overflow with the zeal to meet with the Beloved,

Know, O you unaware of spirituality, that bodies begin to dance.

O guide who incites lovers, stand up and move us

With the name of the Beloved, and breathe life into us.

In our own day, some prefer to serve the Qur'an and faith by the way based on acknowledging one's poverty and impotence before God's Wealth and Power, and on thankfulness and zeal. In this context, zeal means constant hope and continuing to serve without being dispirited and losing one's energy. It also means seeking an aspect of Divine mercy even in the most distressing conditions, and then relying upon Him alone for His help and victory.

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tawakkull · 6 months

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ISLAM 101: Spirituality in Islam: Part 165

Shawq and Ishtiyaq (Joyful Zeal and Yearning)

Literally meaning strong desire, excessive wishing, joy issuing from knowing, delight, and longing, shawq (joyful zeal) is used by Sufis to express the heart’s overwhelming desire to meet with the Beloved, Who cannot be comprehended and “vanishes” after being “observed” Some have described it as joyful desire, excitement, and a lover’s excessive heartfelt longing to see the Face of the Beloved. Others have regarded it as a fire that reduces to ashes all desires, wishes, yearnings, and inclinations other than those felt to meet with the Beloved.

Some interpreters of the Qur’an, when writing on: Those who believe are firmer in love of God (2:265), remark that joyful zeal is felt toward things that are partly perceivable and partly imperceivable, partly comprehensible and partly incomprehensible. One feels no zeal toward that which he or she has never seen or heard of, or about which he or she knows nothing. Nor does he or she feel interest in that which he or she completely comprehends or perceives.

The spirit of all men and women observed Him in an assembly of past eternity, where God asked them: Am I not your Lord? and they answered: Yes, assuredly. We testify! After this assembly, either because humanity’s very humanness required it or because humanity had to be tested, to believe in Him without seeing Him, humanity was thrown into the pangs of temporary separation. This is why people always dream of Him in conscious or unconscious longing for Him, and burn with a yearning to re-unite with Him. What is more significant than this is the yearning which the Most Sacred Being feels toward pure, innocent, and unadulterated souls, but only in a way that is appropriate for His essential independence of all being. This Divine eagerness may be the real source of the yearning that enters one’s heart.

Zeal means turning to the Beloved with all inner and outer feelings, and locking out all appetites other than those felt to meet with Him. In the context of yearning, it means one’s over-flowing with desires and wishes related to Him. Both zeal and yearning feed the spirit. Both are painful but exhilarating and wearisome, distressing but promising.

When the zeal to meet with God invades a lover’s being, the result is an overflow of feelings of pain and delight, and cries of:

Zeal has bewildered me, zeal has burnt me. Zeal has intervened between sleep and my eyes. Zeal has invaded me, zeal has engrossed me. Zeal has overwhelmed me, zeal has stricken me with awe.

This degree of zeal sometimes incites the lover to stand up and dance or spin. The lover should be excused for such movements, as he or she cannot resist such a spiritual state:

Say to him who wants to prevent a man of ecstasies from going into ecstasies:

You have not tasted the wine of love together with us, so leave us. When souls overflow with the zeal to meet with the Beloved, Know, O you unaware of spirituality, that bodies begin to dance. O guide who incites lovers, stand up and move us With the name of the Beloved, and breathe life into us.

In our own day, some prefer to serve the Qur’an and faith by the way based on acknowledging one’s poverty and impotence before God’s Wealth and Power, and on thankfulness and zeal. In this context, zeal means constant hope and continuing to serve without being dispirited and losing one’s energy. It also means seeking an aspect of Divine mercy even in the most distressing conditions, and then relying upon Him alone for His help and victory.

[1] Nasa’i, “Sahw,” 62; Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, 5:191. [2] Al-Qushayri, Al-Risala, 332.

#allah #god #islam #muslim #quran #revert #convert #convert islam #revert islam #reverthelp #revert help #revert help team #help #islamhelp #converthelp #how to convert to islam #convert to islam #welcome to islam

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thenamesofthings · 1 year

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The First Whig

…[F]or Cicero, there was little or nothing to choose between the extremists of the Right and those of the Left. In his eyes both alike are furiosi or madmen, consumed with a lust for power which obscures all sense of a good transcending their selfish interests; and he looks for nothing but evil from the triumph of either. Accordingly, to the pretensions of contending factions he advances his own alternative, which is, in a very real sense of the term, the front populaire. This conception is, perhaps, best explained in his own words.

Those who have aspired to play an active and distinguished part in the public life of Rome have always been divided into two groups. Of these, the one has desired to be and to be known as popular, the other as optimate. Those who are anxious that their actions and words should please the masses are regarded as popular; those who so comport themselves as to win the approval of the best people, are optimate. What, then, is an optimate? Their numbers, if you must know, are infinite, for otherwise they could not possibly hold their own. They include the leaders of public policy and their followers, men of the highest standing, to whom the senate is open, together with Roman citizens of the municipalities and landed proprietors in the country, business men as well as freedmen. Great, however, as are their number and variety, the group as a whole may accurately and summarily be defined as follows: All men are optimates who are inoffensive, of pure morals, not subject to passion or involved in debt. These are the safe and sane, the sound elements in the community; their ideal is that which appeals as finest and most eligible to persons of this character: it is social security (otium cum dignitate). All who cherish this ideal are optimates; those who work for it must be regarded as true men and genuine conservatives (conservatores civitatis). As for the foundations of this social security, to be defended even at the cost of life and limb, I may enumerate them as follows: the official religion of worship and divination, executive authority, senatorial influence, statute and customary law, the popular courts and magisterial jurisdiction, good faith, the provinces and allies, imperial prestige, military and financial strength. 'A state as large as ours includes multitudes who, from a consciousness of villainy and fear of punishment, are eager for revolutionary agitation and change or who, because of a kind of congenital madness, batten on civil discord and strife or who, since they are plunged in debt, prefer to see the community go up in flames rather than be themselves burned.

This declaration is not less illuminating than the formal treatises in which Cicero labours to expound and justify his political faith. Written shortly before the catastrophe which was to complete the ruin of his hopes, it reveals him, even more truly than Aristotle, as 'the first Whig'. As such, his creed finds appropriate expression in the twofold conception of order and freedom (imperium et libertas); and this he boldly identifies with the rights of property. It was indeed Cicero, rather than Locke, who first asserted that the purpose of organized society was to establish and maintain this principle.

The primary concern of those responsible for the conduct of public affairs will be to make certain that every man is secure in his possessions, and that there is no invasion of private right on the part of government. . . . This, indeed, is the reason why states and republics have been created. For, though nature herself prompts men to congregate together, nevertheless it is in the hope of protecting what they have that they seek the protection of cities.

With all the fervour of a true Roman, Cicero believed that the mission of his country was to make the world safe for property. This he conceived not in any absolute sense but, in the terminology of jurisprudence, as an object (res) which exists only for a subject of legal right (persona); in other words, as an 'extension of personality'. As such, its function was to ensure independence, thus making possible either of the alternatives characteristic of a well-ordered society, inactivity without loss of standing and activity exempt from risk.' With these refinements, the Romans had arrived at a point of view which was foreign to the political thinking of the Greeks. For whereas the word “polis” had carried with it the suggestion of 'one big family' or an all-in partnership, the term res publica could hardly be used without an implied reference to its counterpart, the res privata. Res privata, although distinct from, was not in conflict with res publica, but rather its correlative, indissolubly linked to it by what may be called 'a principle of polarity' and, in a precisely analogous sense, the object of right. Thus envisaged, the 'republic' may be defined as 'that which belongs to the people', a people being 'no heterogeneous collection of human beings, but a society organized iuris consensu et utilitatis communione, i.e. on a basis of agreed rights and common interests'. These rights and interests constitute citizenship and they exist, he adds, in order to make possible 'a better and happier life'. Accordingly, their origin may be traced not so much to human weakness as to the compulsions of nature, which have made mankind a gregarious and social rather than a solitary animal. But, in this respect, the role played by nature is that of stepmother (natura noverca); since, while she prompts men to associate, she leaves it to them to create the forms of association which will meet their needs…

—Charles Norris Cochrane (1889–1945). Christianity and Classical Culture, 1940

#Cicero #property rights #charles norris cochrane #christianity and classical culture #whiggery #optimates #republicans

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 2 years

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The Proposal

Pic found on Google | Dividers from @firefly-graphics

Summary: After some difficult time in your relationship with Dean, the British Men of Letters send the two of you on a case in Italy. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Squares: December for @winchesterandbeyondbingo // Venice, Italy for @anyfandomfluffbingo // Fluff for @j3bingo // Date Night for @spnfluffbingo // Dean Winchester for @supernatural-jackles TMAS // Warnings: fluff, marriage proposal, best friends to lovers, established relationship, break-up, reconciliation Word Count: 2.2k

The day Sam, Dean, and you found the bunker, you told Dean you wanted to search for other members of the “Men of Letters” around the world. You wanted to see if there were other people like you hunting monsters too.

Some months later, two people showed up at the bunker’s door stating that they were from the British Men of Letters, “Michael “Mick” Davies and Arthur Ketch” they introduced and you got excited. If they had found you there, you were sure there were other organizations in other parts of the world. You made this research a personal task to find more members.

The search was unsuccessful and you failed in your task, the cases started to increase thanks to Mick and Ketch. Having to deal with them on a daily basis was exhausting.

Over the following weeks, you’ve hunted a lot of monsters, driving non-stop, going from one state to another without a full night of sleep.

With your birthday a few weeks away, Dean and you decided to do a little road trip to celebrate it and to spend some quality time just the both of you. It was something you wanted to do for the past year since you’ve started your relationship.

To be honest, you should’ve seen this coming. Since the British Men of Letters appeared in your life, they made chaos. The three of you were always in a bad mood, mostly because of the lack of sleep, the worst part of this was that your relationship with Dean was worsening. That was one of the reasons why you were really eager to go on this road trip with Dean, it was something both of you really needed.

Instead, Ketch had other plans for that week. He decided to send Sam and Dean on a hunt, it was supposed to last just two days, and Dean was going to be back right in time for the trip.

You should’ve learned by now to not trust Ketch and his white lies. What was supposed to be a two days hunt became a week, making Dean miss your birthday and screw up all your plans. You could see in Ketch’s face how much he was enjoying your bad mood. You were ready to kill him with your bare hands.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Dean said when he entered the bunker, “ I’m going to compensate you. I promise” Dean promised, knowing he just ruined something you’ve planned for so long, but he wasn’t the one who needed to compensate you, but you just knew Ketch was not gonna move a finger for what he just ruined.

You hugged Dean and pecked his lips, “I’m just glad you’re here with me. Both of you” you admitted hugging Sam “but if he ever shows up, I’m gonna kill him,” you whispered so only Sam and Dean could hear you. “Not gonna stop you” Sam added with a smile.

The whole Ketch and British Men Of Letters brought a lot of disagreements between you and the Winchester brothers, to the point of dissolving your relationship with Dean, having to take some time off from each other. It broke your heart to make this decision, but it was the best before hurting more feelings because of them. You decided to leave the bunker and book a room in a crappy motel until everyone could figure out what was going on.

The time off between Dean and you only lasted two days. The love you had for the other was a lot stronger than just a simple man who wanted to take control over you and your little family.

Even though you and Dean got back together, you decided that it was best to stay apart at least until Ketch, Mick, and the rest of the Men of Letters were gone.

While being apart from Dean, both of you learned what was needed from the other, and to communicate them to the other. This time, the relationship grew stronger, you were able to communicate and let the feelings be part of the relationship. In a way, this brought you two a lot closer than you already were.

It was mid-December when Dean asked you to move in with Sam and him to the bunker again. Both claimed to miss you and your energy there. You couldn’t refuse this offer, you missed them a lot, “Ok,” you accepted gladly, “but with one condition,” you said.

Dean sighed and nodded, “I’ll move in with you, but not permanently. At least, not for now” you explained and Dean agreed. He couldn’t force you to do it, it was your decision after all.

Since you've moved out from the bunker and spending for a few months in a motel, you had rented a small room in an apartment building near the bunker, it was perfect for the time being.

You were packing some of your stuff that you were planning to move back to the bunker when you got a call from Dean, “Hi baby,” you answered, “what happened?” you asked kinda worried, “do you have your passport up to date?” he asked; you got confused, why would he ask you that?

“Yeah, why?” you answered not understanding much where he was going with all these questions. “Mitch called, they want us to take a case in Italy,” he explained and you couldn’t believe it, “You kidding, right?”

Dean chuckled, “Nope sweetheart, it sounds serious” You were very confused as to why Mitch had asked you two to check on a case in Italy? And why did Dean accept it? He hated flying. This probably was something serious they couldn’t handle on their own.

“Let me pack some stuff and I’ll meet you at the bunker” You heard some shuffling in the back, probably they were finishing packing, then Dean asked, “You have everything in there?”

“I guess so,” you said checking your surroundings, “I’ll pick you up in ten minutes and I’ll explain everything on the road,” Dean said and hung up.

Twenty minutes later, Dean and you were heading to the airport, two first-class tickets to Italy in hand and a million questions without an answer.

While on the road, Dean explained to you that an auction party was being held in a very important hotel and one of the most important pieces they were auctioning was from God’s creation and the Men of Letters wanted to recover it. The thing is that Mitch and all their minions were well known and they weren’t allowed to participate, so they needed unknown people.

“So that’s why they need us,” you said and Dean nodded. That’s where Dean and you fit in the picture.

Mitch called you before boarding and said that your room was already booked at the hotel, he also mentioned that there were outfits ready for both of you to wear at the auction and that one of the British Men of Letter’s drivers was there for you during your stay.

The flight was quiet and comfortable, while Dean hummed “Nothing Else Matters” non-stop, you did some old-fashioned research on the item you needed to recover.

Twelve hours later, finally, both of you arrived in Italy and as Mitch promised, there was a car waiting for the two of you.

To you, the trip to the hotel was marvelous, it was almost impossible for you to be able to see everything. You were in love with the place. Unfortunately, you were there for a job and not for vacation, so you needed to keep yourself focused.

“I miss my baby,” said Dean with a pout, “I know, I miss her too, but at least I have mine with me,” you said and pecked his lips making him smile.

Once in the hotel, you were taken to your room, it was the honeymoon suite. The room was twice the size of your apartment. It was enormous.

“As you can see, the room is for newlyweds, so you’ll have to portray as a married couple at the auction. I hope that’s not a problem” Mitch said through the phone “I expected you to do your work well. This is a big item. I’ll keep in touch with you two” he finished and hung up.

You set up your workplace and started to do some research on the auction, the people who were going to attend, and the items they were selling.

“Apparently, we will have to do another trip. The auction is in Venice” Dean mentioned with an envelope in his hands. Your eyes lighted up. Venice was your place on earth, the canals, the gondolas, the bridge, the structure, the history. It was your favorite place and you’ve always wanted to visit it.

The following day, you and Dean got full room service, “we ain’t paying it, so bring the pie” Dean said excitedly.

After breakfast, a maid came with two bags, one contained Dean’s suite and the other, your dress. The trip to Venice wasn’t short, so you wanted to get ready early so you could do a little sightseeing around the place where the auction was held.

Dean wore a blue suit with a white shirt and you wore a short laced black dress with simple sandals. Nothing too fancy but not too simple either.

The drive to the hotel lasted at least an hour, you were grateful for leaving early. You had at least an hour and a half until the event started, which meant you had plenty of time to walk around and see the place.

Dean seemed nervous, he didn’t look in your eyes, it seemed that he was avoiding you. You assumed he was uncomfortable; it wasn’t a common thing for him to wear a suit for a case.

��De, are you okay?”, you asked, caressing his cheek. “We can come back if you want,” you said, hugging him. He hugged you back and started to sway to the sound of the music a local shop was playing. “I’m fine. Actually,” he said “I’m great because I’m with you” he finished before kissing you deeply.

“De…” you whispered and you felt when his body relaxed, “Sweetheart, I know that I messed up on your birthday, I wanted to be with you, but Ketch…“ he sighed, frustrated at the memory, “the point is that I made you a promise that day, and…“

“What do you mean, Dean? You don’t owe me anything. A job is a job, I get it” you admitted, “I know, “he sighed again “but you deserve the world, everything,”

You pecked his lips, you knew he was mad at Ketch for what he did, but you also knew he was blaming himself for letting that happen, “and you give me all and more” you said looking directly to his eyes, “no, I haven’t,” he said and you stopped dancing, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that I’ve failed you. I made a promise and I broke it. I wanted to make it up for you, but I didn’t know how and then I realized that you deserve the world and I wasn’t giving you any” he confessed, “De… are you…” you didn’t know what to ask, he was confusing more

“Y/N, you are my world, and you deserve everything and all, and I want to give it to you, so,” he said, kneeling and you started to cry, “will you marry me?”

You couldn’t believe it, you tried to regain some strength and calm down your crying and said “Of course Dean! I love you so much” you said, kneeling with him.

He got the two of you up and put the ring on your finger. You pulled your arms around his neck and kissed him, hard and deeply. It was a dream come true.

“I wish Sammy was here,” you said in a sad tone, “I wouldn’t have missed this in the world,” Sam said from behind, you turned around and hugged him too.

You were in a bubble, your best friend and love of your life has just proposed in your favorite place on earth when you remember why you were there, “Guys, the auction!” you exclaimed and Sam and Dean laughed, “there’s no auction baby,” Dean said, “I told you I was going to make them pay for missing your birthday and we needed a plan to bring you here without suspicion and well, we had to come up with a case.” he explained.

You started to laugh, he really made them pay for what had happened, “I’ll have to thank Mitch then” you said and added, “even though they did compensate us, I still want to kill Ketch” the three of you chuckled.

“I can’t believe you overcome your fear of flying because of me,” you said while looking at the canals with your two favorite people, “for you baby, I’ll do anything.” Dean said, “now, let’s go to celebrate.” Sam added, hugging the both of you.

Sam, Dean, and you got in the car and headed back to the hotel where they were waiting for you with a special dinner organized for the British Men of Letters. You couldn’t be any happier.

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nothanksehh · 2 years

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Bang Chan and I - 8

Minho's words were echoing in your brain. They had caught you off guard so you just stood there with your mouth open and watched him walk away. Chan walked up behind you and looked at you questioningly.

"Am I imagining things? Did he just wink at you?" he asked you and you nodded. Chan laughed, apparently finding it funny and not at all stunned like you were.

You figured if Chan wasn't worried about it, it must be a normal habit for him. You put it behind you and went to enjoy dinner with your new friends.

After dinner was over there seemed to be a mutual want to be alone. Chan was the first up from the table and grabbed your hand to lead you down the hallway, further into the dorm. You walked with him into a room that looked to be shared between three people.

"This is my room. I share with Changbin and Felix," as he said their names he pointed to their beds. He showed you around his room and eventually to a curtained-off portion where there was a computer on a desk and behind it, against the wall, was a small loveseat. He sat at one end and motioned for you to sit next to him.

"So, how do you like sharing a room with two other men? Do you wish you had more privacy?" You figured that was the purpose of the curtain divider but you were still curious.

"It really isn't too bad. And we don't really ever have people other than us in our rooms so it hasn't ever come up before."

It made sense, honestly, and when you were as close as they all seemed to be being that close to your best friends sounded like a blessing.

"Y/N, I want to let you know that I told them about us. I didn't spare any details so that they know the full picture."

"That is good, I am glad. Minho seemed to have some things on his mind but it felt like he cleared it up already."

"What?" he was surprised, "Did he say something to you? He wasn't rude was he?"

"No! He just had some concerns. It's alright now," and a look of pure happiness crossed his face. Almost a little too happy? "Why? Were you thinking he would say something worse?"

He looked as if he didn't want to answer your question. "I think I should probably warn you, that when I say I told them everything, I mean that I even told them we were allowed to sleep with other people so long as we cleared it first. And... well, Minho might have said something about it."

"Minho had something to say about that? What was it?" His earlier behavior seemed like it might be an indicator of something more, now that you thought about it again.

Chan thought hard about if he should tell you. Eventually deciding that it was important enough that you should know.

"He asked me if the same courtesy would be extended to them... if any of the other members would want to be with you that way if I would allow it," he said in a small voice, not at all the confident Chan you were used to.

"And... what did you tell him?" You found butterflies had migrated to your stomach as you waited for his answer. You weren't sure why you were really eager to hear his response, it wasn't like you had feelings for any of them. Deep down, though, you thought of how amazing it would be to be had by several of them at once...

"I told them that if that is what they wanted they would have to take it up with you. I don't speak for you, obviously, but if that is something that you wanted eventually, for any of the members, I would be okay with it. I trust them and I trust you, too."

You were stunned again, Chan was so incredible. You could tell how much he cared about his other members but it seemed like the same courtesy was being extended towards you, as well. You were glad that he was okay with it, more than glad probably.

Your thoughts started to take a different turn as you sensed a moment to torture him slightly.

"Really, Channie? You would let them have me?" You sat in his lap and looked into his eyes, "You would let them take me like you did?" As you spoke, you laced your hands into his hair, it was curly today and you were dying to have it between your fingers ever since you laid eyes on him earlier. Your mouth found its way to his cheek and you placed a gentle kiss there. You heard his breath hitch in his throat as you pulled his head to the side with the hand knotted in his hair and kissed your way down to his chiseled jawline, making sure that your trail led you to his ear. Your lips brushed his earlobe and your teeth came down on it to nibble slightly, a moan escaped his lips and it only fueled you further. You planted open-mouthed kisses along his neck, sucking slightly to make small marks. His breathing was quicker than before, a good sign you were doing things to his liking. You didn't get much further than that before he had enough of you being in control.

Chan grabbed the top of your thigh with one hand and the side of your neck with the other. He crashed his lips to yours, his mouth was needy against you, demanding entrance as he bit your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth and he took advantage, slipping his tongue inside to war with yours. After a minute of this, the hand that was around your thigh tightened and the hand on your neck moved to press along the sides of your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure. His lips left your mouth and moved to your right ear.

"Why don't you show me what else that pretty mouth is good for, kitten?" At his words, goosebumps appeared over your skin.

"Yes, daddy," you said as sweet as you could manage. You looked him in the eyes and moved your hands to the base of his sweater and lifted it over his head. He wasn't wearing a shirt underneath so you were left admiring his bare chest. You bit your lip as you took a second to admire his body and he met your gaze and winked at you. You trailed your hands against his pecks and over the tops of his shoulders, at the same time you started to grind yourself against him. The friction that it created was heavenly as Chan's erection was positioned right below your clit. Your lips connected again and Chan grabbed your hips and pushed you down on him harder than you were before. He loved being in control of you and your pace was just a little slow for him. You couldn't help it, though. You loved to watch him get impatient and take matters into his own hands.

You were enjoying the grinding a little too much because you felt yourself edging closer to an orgasm. Chan could tell by the look on your face that you were fighting it and it only made him go faster. You gathered yourself to your senses just before you knew you would be pushed over the edge, and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of winning just yet. You slunk yourself off his lap and kneeled down in front of him. You tugged at his pants and he stood up to remove them with a smirk on his face. You knew he was on to your train of thoughts but he wasn't going to say anything. He wanted to see how far you could go into being in control.

With his pants on the floor, his boxers soon followed, leaving you with his full length right in front of you. You knew you had seen it before but the sight of his arousal still stole your breath. He grinned at you and you winked up at him and pushed him back down on the couch. You sauntered between his legs and looked him in the eyes as you palmed his cock. You leaned your head forward and licked from the base to his tip slowly. You repeated the action a few more times, wanting to get him nice and wet for what was to come. On the last lick of his tip, your lips parted around his cock. He hissed in response but you didn't have time to appreciate the sound because you were pushing him further into your mouth, swirling your tongue on him as you went. Thinking about it, you weren't sure if you were going to fit him all in your mouth, he really was well endowed. Closing your eyes and gaining a boost of courage, you pushed him all the way to the back of your throat, swallowing to get rid of your gag reflex. Your tongue was wet and flat underneath his cock as you started to bob your head up and down on him. Making sure to hollow your cheeks as you sucked him off. You heard his breathing hitch and then increase its pace.

You were glad of the effect you were having on him, you smiled inwardly to yourself as you made eye contact again and moaned as he hit your uvula this time. The echoing moan from his mouth made you even wetter between your legs. There was something about watching him give in beneath you that made you want to jump his bones right then and there.

Chan's fingers tangled in your hair as you gagged on him. The whole ordeal was making saliva run down your chin and he loved the sight of you messy and choking on him. Just as you were guided by his hand to go down again you heard the door of the room open and two bodies entered. If it weren't for the curtain separating you from them, you would have been found in a very precarious position. Your eyes widened but you didn't pull off of him, you hovered where you were to make sure you didn't make any noise.

"Chan are you guys in here? Where did Y/N go?" Changbin asked.

Chan steadied his voice and spoke, "Yeah we are in here, Y/N fell asleep on me so don't come over here. I will wake her up in a little bit."

"Sounds good, Binnie and I will put headphones on so we don't disturb her," Felix said.

You didn't give Chan the chance to respond to them as a devilish thought hit you. You wondered how quiet he could be with you giving him this pleasure. You took him out of your mouth and started to lightly suck on his balls. The action made his eyes roll back into his skull as he held his breath and his hand tightened on your hair and pulled slightly. You loved the sensation it created and you cataloged it to mention to him to do that to you while you fucked next time.

Chan got frustrated and pulled you towards his dick again, wanting your mouth on him again. You took him inside again and immediately deep-throated him. You gagged slightly but made sure not to make too much noise and alert the others in the room. He forced your head down on him again and again, making your eyes water while he face fucked you. You could feel his cock starting to twitch in your mouth and you knew he was close to cumming. You looked into Chan's eyes as you grabbed the hand that wasn't in your hair and guided it to rest at your neck. His eyes widened at the gesture and he gripped the sides, applying slight pressure and making you even wetter. Your hands gripped his thighs as he started to buck his hips into you. It only took a few thrusts before he shot his load into your mouth. Your tongue licked at his tip to add to his pleasure and once he had finished cumming, you swallowed it all, licking your swollen lips after.

Chan sat on the couch, panting and out of breath. It was quite a sultry sight and you got off on the sight of it. You got off your knees slowly and kissed him quietly. You pulled away and smiled at him. He got up and put his clothes back on, when he was done he pulled you into him and kissed you again, grateful for your blowjob.

"That was amazing, baby girl. Best I've had," he whispered in your ear. The praise sent a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you, Channie," you whispered back to him. It was sure to make the list of your favorite blowjob too.

**Chan's POV**

There was something about Y/N that seemed to keep surprising you every time she turned around. She was an amazing dancer, her moves were so entrancing every time she moved to the music around her. She couldn't see how much she had inspired the people she worked with to dance harder and come up with new and fresh ideas that they haven't seen before.

She was amazingly thoughtful towards those she considered friends, even though you had not known her long, you knew that she would do anything to make those around her happy. And she did it effortlessly it seemed, bringing with her an air of happiness as she walked.

It was like she could do no wrongs either. She was great at cooking and making friends, great at smiling when she was having a hard time, perfect at everything sexual she attempted too. Of course, I have feelings for her. Who wouldn't?

So it really shouldn't be a surprise that she was amazing with her mouth. I don't know if I have ever experienced such a talented partner yet. It was like she was made for me.

After we finished, we made a point to mess her hair up slightly to make it look like she did fall asleep. Although, the thought of Changbin and Felix knowing what you were up to didn't bother you. It made you feel a strong sense of pride that you had the chance to have her in such intimate ways. I knew they were at least a little jealous about it because of the way that you had all talked about Y/N in the past.

As we walked out of the room together, I grabbed an extra hoodie to give to her before she left, it didn't look like she brought a jacket with her and you wanted to make sure she didn't get cold on the walk home. I nodded to Changbin and Felix as we left and they gave me knowing looks. Okay, so maybe we weren't as quiet as I thought we were.

Y/N said goodbye to Minho and Jisung in the living room and I told them I would be back after I walked her home. I grabbed her hand once we walked out of the front door and turned her to face me. I took the hoodie and placed it on over her head and she shoved her arms in the holes. It was pretty large on her, only her fingertips were poking out of the sleeves and it made her look adorable. She giggled when she saw what I was looking at and flapped her hands around.

"I hope you know that I am going to fight you for this hoodie, it is so comfortable!" she told me.

"Hmmm, well that is something I would love to see," I said, and she blushed at me.

The walk to her apartment seemed too short, I walked her to her door and she reached up on her toes to kiss me as she went inside.

"Text me when you are home, okay? I don't want to worry about something happening to you. What if you trip and die?" She worried too much.

"Sounds like a plan, kitten," I laughed at her.

***

When I got back home I sent her a quick text saying that I somehow managed to make it home without tripping and breaking anything.

I walked into the living room and I saw that Minho and Han were still there but they were joined by the others. They all turned to look at me as I walked in and started laughing.

"What? Did I do something funny?" I asked them.

Felix was the one to speak up, "So how was she? I know what I heard was definitely NOT sleeping on her part."

I smiled and told them we had plenty of fun and left it at that. I'll let them think what they will.

"I really like this one, she has a spine, doesn't seem like just a random fuck toy," Minho said bluntly. Seungmin and Jeongin looked at him like they couldn't believe he said that out loud. His boldness didn't bother me though, he was right. She did have quite the spine.

"Don't be rude, Minho. I thought that you liked her?" I asked him. It didn't go unnoticed by me that they shared a moment while I was gone and I was definitely going to ask him about that.

"Oh, I do. She looks like she has many... talents from what Changbin told us."

"So you both heard what we were up to and didn't decide to leave the room?" I asked Felix and Changbin. Even though the addition of the two in the room seemed to charge the atmosphere with the thrill of being caught, it did seem a little weird that they wanted to listen in.

Felix looked flustered and Changbin was the one to speak up, "I am not going to lie, it sounded really hot. It might have had an effect on Felix and me and we couldn't really get the courage to move."

Well at least he was honest, and he was right too, she was incredibly hot when she sucked me off. The two youngest seemed a little uncomfortable so I told them that they could go, they needed to sleep anyway. It was really late at night and I wanted to run through the dance a little tomorrow before we had free time for the rest of the day.

When they had left I went to sit down on the couch where Seungmin was sitting next to Jisung. He looked over at me and it seemed like he wanted to say something but wasn't going to ask it in front of the others. That was fine, if he had questions for me later I would answer them.

My phone buzzed and I saw that Y/N responded. She sent a thumbs-up emoji followed by a selfie of her in her pj's. God, she was gorgeous. Jisung and Minho had seen the picture because they were leaning over my shoulder to see what it was. It was getting a little annoying, if they wanted to see her like this they could just work up the courage and start talking to her themselves.

"Guys, come on. If you want to get to know her just get her number. I am not hoarding her. She seemed okay with the idea of getting to know you all better."

"Alright then, give me her number. I will text her right now," Minho said. He seemed to hold the most interest in her out of all of them.

I rolled my eyes and sent her a text asking if I could give the guys her phone number so they could text her. When I hit send I saw that the text was read and then I started receiving a phone call from her. I laughed and answered it.

"Hi there," I told her. She said hi sleepily and was quiet for a minute, I almost asked her if she fell asleep before she started talking again.

"Who exactly wants my number? I want to know so I can prepare myself," she laughed as she said it.

I made eye contact with Minho as I spoke, "Well Minho seems to be eager for it but I could give it to all of them if you were okay with it?"

"Hmm, put me on speaker. Are you near him?" I agreed and put her on speaker and told her who was in the room.

"Minho..." she said slowly, teasingly.

"Yes, doll?" he said confidently and Felix smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Why do you want my phone number?" It sounded like she was trying to tease him in front of the others. This was going to be a great conversation, I knew it.

Minho seemed slightly caught off guard at her question but he recovered quickly, "I would love to get to know you better. Sounds like you and Chan have really... gotten off well together."

The innuendo was not missed by her and she giggled at him. "Quit being dirty in front of people, Minho. Say pretty please, I am a lady after all."

His eyes widened and he raised an eyebrow. I knew he wasn't one to submit to anyone so if he ended up doing it, she was going to pay for it at some point. He looked like he was weighing his options, looking around the room at the others. We were all watching him intently, very interested in what he was going to do.

His eyes finally settled on me and he spoke, "Pretty please, Y/N? Be a good girl and let Chan give your number to me." His words were laced with sweetness but the notion of the command was still there. I doubted if she would be able to say no at this point. She was the perfect submissive and couldn't ignore a command.

She sighed over the other end of the phone and finally agreed. Minho smiled at his win and the others started laughing.

"Alright, I will give him your number. Now go to bed, Y/N, I know you have had a long day." I tried to put more sternness to my voice as I told her to sleep. She really did have a long day and I doubted that she ever got enough rest. She yawned on the other end of the phone and said good night to everyone and hung up.

"She is too cute for her own good," Felix said and Jisung agreed with him.

I gave her number to them all and they programmed her into their contacts. I knew Minho sent her a text right away but the others just put their phones away after.

"I want you guys to know, I don't care if you start something with her and what it turns into, I just want you to know I am going to make her mine one day, so make sure that you don't fall in love with her." They agreed with me, I knew they could tell how much I already cared about her. I knew that I was being honest, too. I really do think I will be in love with her and one day I will make her mine.

#bangchansmut #bangchan #bangchan smut #straykids #stray kids #straykids smut #bangchan x reader #chris bang #stray kids smut #straykidssmut #bang chan #lee minho #leeknow #lee know #bang chan smut

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Good little girl

*gif is not mine*

Note - Requested by @holacia2 and a part two to good little wife. And special thanks to @gotnofucks for all her help! I'm so overwhelmed with all the love that fic got I hope y'all like this little follow up as well❤❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Summary - Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems?

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, younger woman/older man, daddy kink, soft dark!Andy, SO MUCH MISOGYNY, housewife kink, innocence kink, (accusations of) cheating, arranged/forced marriage, spanking, possessive Andy.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 4.9k

Masterlist is linked in the bio and the pinned post!

You handed your mother the brownies you had baked, she thanked you, telling you how it was so unnecessary, before Andy placed the wine you had gotten on the way over on the kitchen counter.

“Why don’t you go keep your father in law company, Andrew?” your mom told him. He only nodded before making way to his boss.

“So? How are things going with him?” she asked. “You are positively glowing honey! Do you have any good news yet?”

“Mom!” you gasped.

Over the past seven months you had only seen your mother a handful of times. You were still a bit upset with her for marrying you off to an older man you barely knew, a man who you thought despised you so much he refused to even touch you.

You knew she didn’t really have a say in it. Your father never really valued her opinion, there was no way she would’ve been able to stop it but she hadn’t even so much as tried.

“No, I don’t. And I won’t any time soon,” you huffed.

While being a mother was something you’d like to experience someday, you didn’t know if you were quite ready for it yet. Which was good because Andy didn’t want kids for the next few years either, he had taken you to a doctor to get you on birth control as soon as the holidays were over.

He stated that he wasn’t ready to share you just yet. That he wasn’t sure he wants his kids to be a part of the mob, which you didn’t want either.

“Oh, but you have to, cookie. I need a distraction. Being a mom is all I’ve ever known and ever since you left the house has been so empty.”

“Well, what about daddy?” you frowned. He had never really liked spending time with your siblings or your mother, but to leave her be on her own like that.

“He’s always with Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with it, he’s always been like that, can’t expect him to change now, but he brought her here, now, to a family dinner.” She sighed in resignation.

You had heard a familiar high pitched annoying laugh upon coming home, but you thought that to be one of your brothers floozies.

Charlotte, or Cherry, used to be a good friend of yours in college. Before you brought her home for the holidays of your freshman year and she decided to shack up with your married father, who was almost thrice her age. You lost touch with her after that.

“I’m telling you, honey, a kid is a good way of securing your marriage and starting a family. You are young now... but you will grow old someday. Andrew’s a good man... but he is still a man at the end of the day.”

You scoffed at that, “I won’t have you talking that way about my husband! We are already a family, we’re in love each other and he’s nothing like dad.”

She gave you a teary smile, “Young love--is just so innocent and beautiful. You always see the best in people, cookie. I hope I’m wrong about this. Any man would be an idiot to not appreciate you.”

“Andy does appreciate me. And take good care of me, ma...” you trailed off.

He did take good care of you. After the night you consummated your marriage he brought you breakfast in bed. He hadn’t kept his hands off of you for the past few weeks, doting on you any chance he could get, telling you he loved you every chance he got.

But you wondered... did he love you?

The kind of love you’d only ever read about in classical novels. The kind of love you’d dreamt of having ever since you could remember, the kind you thought you once had with someone, but didn’t. You didn’t love Alex the way you love Andy. You were in love with the idea of Alex. You knew Andy now. You knew how kind, passionate and fierce he was, your love for him consumed every single part of you. Where you would literally die for him.

But did he love you for you. Or was he just lonely because it was Christmas. You had avoided taking the tree and the decorations down, begging him, even dropping to your knees and making love to him with your mouth, you didn’t know much but Cherry had taught you that you could get men to do anything for you just by kneeling before them.

While he was very obviously pleased with your passion, returning the favor tenfold, till your thighs burned from his bread and you were shouting for him to stop, he still took the decorations down. He said he wanted to start anew this year. He made a resolution to be the best husband he could.

But you were going to protect your heart this time, hope for the best but still prepare for the worst.

Unfortunately, you had been seated next to Cherry. You found out that your father was living with her now and that while she had hoped he’d leave his wife for her there, but apparently there was no such luck.

“They never leave their wives do they,” she shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be saying these things to you...”

“Its alright,” you shrugged. It would be hard to see your mother be unhappy but there was never any love between your parents. Your mother had learned to live without him and find happiness in other things, and other people, she was just a bit more sneaky about it.

“Well...” you hesitated “how do you keep a man?”

“What kind of question is that?” she giggled. “There are many ways to keep a man but you’ll have to be a bit more specific...”

You ended up changing the subject. The kind of questions you wanted to ask were not suitable for the dinner table, and you didn’t like the way Andy was staring daggers at the pair of you, almost displeased with the two of you chatting.

***

You smiled at him from the passenger seat when he put his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze. He had been quite the whole ride home so you decided to speak first.

“Can’t believe Cherry’s like my... step mom.” You laughed out loud at such a ridiculous notion.

“Step mom?” he furrowed his brows, turning his head to look at you.

“Oh I’m just joking,” you waved him off. “Dad would never leave my ma. He’ll move on to another one soon enough.”

He hummed, nodding, “Alright. I was just worried she was troubling you at dinner.”

“What would you have done if she was? Would you swop in like a knight in shining armor and save me from the big meanie?”

“You know I would,” he smiled.

You had asked for a piggy back ride from Andy from the garage to your home, he rolled his eyes and tried to say no but then gave in when you used your princess eyes on him.

He placed you on top of your bed, kissing the tip of your nose, he started unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed.

“Andy... um... Daddy?” you corrected yourself instantly.

He liked you addressing him as that whenever you both were alone, he had warned you that you would receive a punishment if you ever failed to comply.

You didn’t know what his punishment would be and you didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon. You’d withhold all affection from him if he ever dared take away the platinum card from you, or lower your allowance as your father had told him to at the dinner, ‘to tame you' supposedly.

But that wasn’t a very good plan... what if he just looked for love elsewhere.

“What is it, honey?” he asked.

“Um... do you think... you would ever take a mistress?” you gulped and prepared yourself for his answer.

“I wouldn’t...” you sighed in relief, “one woman is enough trouble.” he said flatly.

“Daddy!!” you whined, stomping your foot on the floor and folding your hands over your chest.

And he had the audacity to laugh. His laughter at your expense only fuelled your anger. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

He finally stopped laughing, “Look at you being a big girl,” he tried to pinch your cheek but you swatted his hand away. “You don’t wanna be daddy’s little girl anymore?” he pouted.

“No... no I do!” you answered all too eager. “I’m sorry...”

“I’m sorry too, honey. I shouldn’t be making fun of you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” you hugged his hard stomach, rubbing your cheek against his undershirt. “It’s mean, and you promised not to be mean to me.”

“I was just teasing,” he cooed, stroking your hair. And while you knew that and secretly enjoyed it even, you still wanted a serious answer out of him.

“I intend to keep my vows forever. There is just no way I could ever want anyone who’s not you.”

“Really?” you propped your chin on his abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Promise.”

***

“Um... I’m here to see Andy,” you told the lady sitting outside of, what you had been told was Andy’s office, you assumed her to be his secretary Erica.

You always packed a lunchbox for Andy, always remembering to leave a sweet note for him and he would always call you to thank you for it. You also made sure to have dinner ready before he got home on the nights he wasn’t taking you out on the town. It was just your duty as a good wife.

But Andy had been working way too much the past couple of weeks. Where he would be gone before you wake up and be back when you were already in bed. You knew his job was demanding, working for your father and being a partner in a law firm, the job was like a mistress, stealing your man away...

So you simply decided to make his favorite, food pack it up and come to him to eat it together.

“Mrs Barber! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand.

You would’ve been happy, elated that Andy talks so much about you at work. If you hadn’t smelled her perfume. So familiar... you couldn’t quite place it at first but then you remembered.

The night you had slaved away, hoping to profess your love to your husband, when he had rejected you and smelled of chanel.

“That’s a nice scent...” you wondered out loud.

“Oh thank you! I love it as well,” she said, taking in a whiff of the inside of her wrist. “It’s the new chanel one!”

“Hmm....”

You almost didn’t hear Andy calling for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kissed your cheek.

You set the food before him, thinking of telling him what was on your mind.

Was he really so cliché to have an affair with his secretary?

Could you really blame him though? Although you had been married for almost seven months, you were strangers living under the same roof for the majority of them. He wasn’t really cheating... but what if he was still doing it?

“Honey,” he shook you to get your attention. “What’s up with you today? I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re always working.” You complained.

“Well...” he grinned, grabbing at your thighs and pulling you on his lap, “I have to. If I had the choice I would never come into work, I would stay home forever, between your legs, right... here,” he snaked a hand up your leg and stroked the inside of your thigh. “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, “I’ve been so lonely without you.”

He hummed, biting the shell of your ear before speaking into it, “I know, honey. I miss you too. But you do still remember the number one rule right?”

“Yes, daddy. Never touch myself without your permission.”

“And why is that?”

You whined, to embarrassed to say the words, “Because... it’s your... pussy.” You replied in a small shy voice.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s mine to do whatever I want with,” he cupped your mould, just to demonstrate what he meant but then frowned when he felt your soft curls and wet slick against his palm.

“You’re not wearing any panties, sweetheart.” He noted, surprised to your boldness.

“Um... I must’ve forgot.”

So maybe you had ulterior motives behind coming here. Your body was used to be doted on everyday now, and to not have his touch for so long was agonising. You had hoped to maybe bend down to pick up a napkin that fell ever so conveniently and flash him, it would work, he would be driven mad.

“Forgot huh?” You nodded in reply as he gathered your slick in his fingers, tracing your labia with them. “That’s too bad, If you had left them on purpose I would’ve cancelled my meeting and fucked you right here. But since it was just an innocent mistake I wouldn’t do that,” he retreated his hand, placing a soft kiss on your hair. “Thanks for lunch.”

***

You were determined to prove your worth to Andy. If he did have a mistress, whether it be his secretary or any other woman, he would forget all about her when he saw how you could do everything for him.

You had went all out today, baking a pie and a four course meal from scratch, lighting up candles, the pink babydoll that Andy had gifted you was under your dress.

He was as always exhausted when he got home, his face visibly lighting up upon seeing you, you took his hand in yours taking him to the couch and making him a glass of whiskey, you handed it to him before kneeling on the soft rug.

“You work so hard, daddy,” you murmured as your fingers worked on unzipping his pants.

He looked at you in confusion, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do that, honey,” cupping your cheek in his plan, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you blinked at him.

He groaned, unable to say no when you looked so willing to please him, but at the same time he wanted to do more with you. To cuddle and watch a movie and talk, it felt as if he hadn’t in ages.

“Very well,” he nodded.

With the green signal from him, you licked your lips, tasting some of your minty gloss, taking his length out of the confines of his underwear, you took a minute to simply marvel at the sheer size and beauty of it.

You licked a stripe up the underside of it, suckling at the crown, you remembered that he liked that the best, at least from the way he twisted his hand in your hair, pulling at it till it caused a slight burn to your scalp.

You slurped his precum up before he pushed his hips up till his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him, didn’t take him long to come down your throat.

His neck and cheek covered in a crimson blush, his chest heaving as he threw his head back against the couch.

“You did good, honey...” he rasped. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He absolutely loved the dinner you had made for him. But when you subtly, because you were raised to be a good lady and wife, tried to coax him to make love to you before bed, he.... rejected you.

Sure, he was kind about it. He told you he was simply tired and would make it up to you. But it was still shocking how a man as insatiable as him would ever say no. You truly didn’t know what to make of it.

***

“Oh... I don’t know about this... it’s a bit too bold for me,” you bit your lip.

“Just try it on! You might end up liking it!” Cherry urged you, putting the bright red lipstick on you without waiting for an answer, “There is nothing more classic than a red lip. Or a red anything. Men go crazy for it.” She told you.

You simply hummed through closed lips as she put some finishing touches on it. “Doesn’t that look nice?” she asked, holding up a mirror before you.

You smiled, it did look different. Maybe different was what you needed. “It’s very pretty. It makes me feel... confident?” Which was strange. Because how could a simple lipstick make you feel confident?

“See! I told you. Confidence is the key to sexiness. Now, let’s talk lingerie.”

***

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes,” you heard Andy call out to you from the bedroom.

“Just a minute,” you said, perfecting your edges with a lip brush.

This was something you had never done before. You wore a lot of lingerie for Andy, but most of them were cute pastels or white nighties or babydolls. Nothing like what you were wearing right now...

A sheer black lacy body suit that clung to your body, leaving literally nothing to the imagination.

Top that off with your red lip... you looked like some kind of dominatrix. Cherry told you that most men secretly wish to be dominated. Although you highly doubted your daddy would want anything like that. Or would he?

“Alright, I’m coming out,” you announced, before shyly stepping out, your eyes trained on the floor as you twiddled with your fingers to maybe distract you from your nerves. “What do you think?”

He was speechless. His jaw almost dropping on the floor when he saw you like that. So far from his sweet girl. You were just as much beautiful and sexy, and while it wasn’t something he was used or prefer to he would welcome it if it was what you wanted.

He extended an arm to you, ready to tell you that you were sexy, that he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body, that he wanted his cock stained the shade of red you wore on your lips, that he was ready to make up for being away for weeks.

Until he saw... that.

He lowly growled your name, making your head snap up to look at him, “What did you do to your pussy?” Because from what he could see, through the sheer material, there was nothing where your pubic hair used to be.

“Uh... I uh... waxed it...” From the tone of his voice you could tell that he wasn’t too happy about it. “Do you not like it?”

“Like?” he scoffed, shaking his head. Taking a seat on the bedding, “C'mere, let me take a closer look.”

Hesitantly, you walked the few strides it took till you were standing before him.

He studied your mould, trying to take the fabric off so he could see it more properly and then tutting when he couldn’t even open the stupid thing.

“Wait, it um... opens here I think,” you interrupted his scrutiny, undoing the zipper that was on your side and taking the suit off of you.

He sighed in resignation when he saw what you had done, making you regret your ever spending so much money and going through all that pain.

He parted your lips apart, running his fingers along your vulva, acquainting himself with this new strange feel of you, “When did do this?” his blue eyes looked up at you.

“Just a couple of days ago. It’s just hair... it’ll grow back in like three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” he scoffed.

You could feel your eyes getting misty. You tried to go all out for him, to please him, be completely naked and vulnerable before him, only to have him get angry at you.

“You don’t like it,” you sniffled.

His furrowed brow softened when he saw you crying, pulling you down till you were straddling his lap, “The question isn’t whether I like it or not,” he explained, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks, “I could... maybe live with it. But I wouldn’t prefer it.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“But for you to have done this,” he touched your newly waxed skin and almost winced at the smoothness, “You must’ve let someone else see you naked. See what belongs to me.”

“Bu - but they were all women...” you stammered, squirming in his lap as his fingers toyed with your clit.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tutted, pushing two fingers inside you, “Only I get to see you. This is MY pussy. Only I get to decide what to do with it. Do you understand?”

You nodded, holding onto his tshirt as he twisted his fingers inside you. “So-sorry, daddy.”

“No, honey, since you were bad you don’t get to call me daddy. For tonight you will address me as sir. And of course you’ll have to be punished.”

“Punished?” you pouted. “Can’t you just let me go since it was my first strike? I’ll be good from now on I promise!”

“No, you have to learn your lesson. Come on,” you yelped as he manhandled you so you were face down across his lap, “What is your safe word?”

“Unicorns” you giggled. You thought you were so witty for coming up with it. Since he for some reason was jealous of your unicorn stuffie.

He hummed, stroking the soft skin of your butt, “How does twenty sound?”

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, looking at him over your shoulder, “No!” you said.

He didn’t really plan on spanking you... did he? He liked swatting your ass here and there, and truth be told you liked it too. But you had never been spanked or even hit as a punishment.

“Well, if not this then maybe we can make you go a week without cumming.”

Your gasp was louder and even more incredulous this time. You could most definitely take twenty swats, but just the thought of not being able to finish, after knowing what an orgasm with Andy feels like, made you shiver.

“You will count each one, and then thank me for it. You are grateful I’m teaching you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“Do you know how to count to twenty? Or would I have to teach you that too?” he asked ever so condescendingly as you huffed.

“Of course I do! I was just two semesters away from graduating college!” Never mind that you learned that in kindergarten.

“That’s good. Are you ready?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as he got in position.

With a nod from you he delivered the first slap to your right buttcheek, the sound of it reverberating in the room, his palm stinging slightly as he stroked the skin he had just punished, it was already warmer.

“One, sir. Thank you, sir,” you held onto a moan, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be...

You jerked forward as he unceremoniously hit your other cheek, since you were unprepared for it, and he was much more brutal.

“Tw-two, sir,” you sniffled.

You considered throwing in the towel and saying your safe word by the time fifteen rolled around. Your behind was on fire, while you couldn’t see it, you just knew it was bruised. But you wanted to be good for Andy and it was wrong of you to do something that drastic without his permission.

“Sixteen...” you hiccupped. You could feel your slick running down your thighs but at this point... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Do you want a break?” he asked, taking pity on you.

You nodded frantically, “Yes please! Can you... can you touch me? Down there?” Since the pain in your throbbing pussy was unbearable. If you didn’t receive any attention, you might actually burst.

“Down where? Here?” He had the audacity to play down, while you were suffering, and touch the back of your knee to patronise you.

“No!” you whined.

“Well then you’ll have to be a bit more specific, princess.”

“In my... between my legs... my pussy...”

“Are you sure you deserve it though?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that, “No I don’t. Not until I finish my punishment.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his hand massaging your raw ass as your heart swelled in pride.

“Nineteen, sir,” your mind was hazy. It didn’t even feel as if you were in your reality anymore... it was as if you were floating, while you could still hear and feel him spanking you, for some reason it wasn’t as painful anymore.

“The last one, doll, hang in there,” he said before delivering the last swat.

You whimpered, “Twenty, thank you, sir,” willing your nose with the back of your hand.

Andy collected your weak form in his big string arms, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he kept whispering soft praises in your hair, “My sweet beautiful doll,” he pecked you on your lips.

“Sorry about your pants, daddy...” you said when you realised what a wet mess you had made on him.

He shushed you, “Don’t you worry about that right now. Do you want to take a bath?”

You pouted, your red lip jutting out, “No.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Do you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“We have to be careful about your butt, baby,” he said as he gently placed you on the mattress.

Your head on your pillow, besides your two most trusted stuffies--your unicorn and teddy. Andy only allowed you two in the bed after complaining they made it hard for him to cuddle you. You demanded he buy you a shelf to display them or you would go back to your old room. Which of course made him comply instantly.

You made grabby hands at him, impatient to have him closer to you, but then were glad he took the time to take off his tshirt so you could ogle the wide expanse of his chest, the light scattering of fuzzy hair over it, his numerous tattoos along with one of your name, which marked him as yours forever.

He took a hardened nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other, nudging your legs apart to make room for him, he placed his length at your entrance.

Slowly pushing into you, letting you get accustomed to the size of him. Although your pussy was always so welcoming to him, he knew you often struggled to take him.

You whimpered at him, tears rolling off of your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt?”

“No... it’s just so good,” you sniffled.

“Okay, just hold on,” you held onto his shoulders as he slowly fucked in to you.

Your pussy clamping around his length, the soles of your feet digging into his ass, “Can I come, daddy?”

“Of course, baby. You earned it.” He groaned, his hips hammering against yours as you bit his neck, letting out a muffled scream.

You hummed against his neck when you felt his warm release fill you up, he pulled out of you, frowning when he looked at your naked and hairless pussy, dripping with his cum.

“From now on I’ll be picking out your clothes,” he stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.

“Okay, daddy,” you hummed.

“And no more surprise bikini waxes.”

“Mmm...” If that’s what you had to do to get in trouble and be punished, then so be it. “We’ll see.”

***

Three days later

“Lotion time, doll,” Andy said, pausing the movie you were both watching to go get said lotion.

He had rubbed your lotion on your backside when he spanked you and decided that he wanted to be the one putting your body lotion on you from now on since he had too much fun doing it. He insisted on doing it twice everyday since it was still very cold.

You followed him to the bedroom, lying face down on the bed a he squeezed some on his palms, rubbing them together to warm them up.

You winced just a little, your skin still a bit sensitive, you even had to sit on a pillow the time.

“Will you be going back to work tomorrow?” you wanted to know.

He didn’t like the sadness in your voice, “Yes,” he sighed. He hated leaving you all by yourself.

“I’ll be all alone then.”

“Didn’t you want to go back to college?” He remembered you telling him that your parents forced you to drop out so that you would marry him.

“I do actually. Hate leaving things incomplete... maybe I can even go to a law school and become a lawyer like you!” you perked up.

“You’re not working for your father though, you’re too good for that world.”

“You’re too good for him too.” You said. “Maybe I can work with you.” And you and him could be like a power couple. It would be so exciting.

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

chapter three - Chapter Four: Madripoor - chapter five

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky pay an eventful visit to Helmut Zemo in Berlin, heading to Madripoor soon after to get answers about the serum.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, violence, description of injuries, a few crumbs for the slow burn, breaking the law and looking good doing it

A/N: These chapters always end up being so long lol. I was going to include the nightclub scene but it would’ve made it too long so sorry, it’ll have to wait a few more days. Forgive my shitty Russian translations, I’m on Google Translate and that’s not saying a lot.

----

“Not that it makes a difference, but I still don’t like this.” I’d voiced my displeasure about meeting with Zemo several times since we’d arrived in Germany. Even though we were already being led through the high security Berlin prison hallways, I still felt the urge to state my opinion.

The guard that was guiding us gestured towards a door, “He’s just through the corridor.”

“Give us a sec,” Bucky said, the three of us coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. “I’m gonna go in alone.” “Why?” Sam asked.

“You’re an Avenger, you know how he feels about that,” Bucky looked to me, “You, I’m trying to keep as far away from him as possible.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together,” Sam remarked.

“I’m gonna say it again,” I took an assertive step forward, “I don’t like this.”

“He was obsessed with HYDRA,” Bucky pushed, “We have a history together. Trust me, I got it.”

Taking my cue from Sam, who didn’t fight him any more, I nervously watched Bucky stalk down the hallway to the corridor that led to our possible next step.

“Is he really okay?” I asked, watching Bucky’s figure until he disappeared, “I feel like we’re going a little too far with this.” “He’s invested, which means he’s desperate,” Sam answered, leaning his back against the wall, “This is a little too much though.”

I copied his posture and we stood in silence, the occasional guard passing by. “What happened last night after I left the room? C’mon, you come out crying and you thought I was gonna let it go?” “Bucky and I were just…” I sighed, remembering the change that had happened between our two conversations, “Learning to get along. I told him about Steve, that’s never fun to relive.” “Ah,” Sam nodded, “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” “You’re not mad at me that I gave up the shield, are you?”

My brows knitted together as I looked over at him, “Why would I be mad? Your decision wouldn’t have changed even if I was, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t have. But you were close to Steve too, you care about his legacy,” he went on, “We’re all angry about Walker. I don’t care if Bucky’s upset at me, but I always care if you are.” “Someone ever tell you you care too much sometimes?” I playfully nudged his sneaker with my own, “Of course I’m not mad, you know I support you no matter what. You made the right decision for you and you have nothing to apologize for. Bucky and even Steve don’t need to understand why you chose to give it up. Would it have been cool to say that my brother is Captain America?” I coaxed a laugh out of him, “Of course, but it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just proud to say my brother is Sam Wilson.” He poked me with his elbow and smiled, “Now I remember why I keep you around.” “Y/n Y/l/n, Falcon’s Ego Booster.” We were sharing a laugh when Bucky came back around the corner. “That was quick,” I observed. He’d been in there five minutes tops.

“We’ve got our next stop.”

————

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail?” Sam questioned in the dark, “Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?”

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky replied, shining his flashlight around to try and find the power switch. I couldn’t clearly make out where he had brought us to, he’d brought us through the back door of the building. “So because we’ve hit one dead end, you want to spring one of the most dangerous men in the world out of prison?” I asked, shining my flashlight at Bucky causing him to throw a hand up to shield his eyes, “Bucky, I don’t-“ “Like this,” he finished, “I got that, but we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on the loose.” “Zemo’s gonna miss with our minds, especially yours,” Sam interjected, “No offense.” I made out Bucky’s silhouette reaching up a beam, a loud click of a switch and the lights began to turn on. “Offense,” he scowled.

With the lights on, we could finally see that we were in an auto shop. I was glad to be out of the prison but I wasn’t seeing the correlation between it and freeing Zemo.

“Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in,” Bucky continued, “He is crazy, but he still has a code.” “I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you,” Sam countered, I’d heard in detail about the havoc Zemo had caused and the ramifications of his actions had caused Sam and Steve to become fugitives. Never mind what he’d done to Bucky…”He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question, they didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.”

Bucky stood in front of us now, “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Sam turned his back in frustration, “Look, let me just walk you two through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

“What did you do?” Sam asked suspiciously, turning halfway to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I didn’t…” Bucky’s looked away briefly, “Do anything.”

“Then by all means,” I leaned up against a beam and crossed my arms, not believing him at all, “Let’s ride the hypothetical train.” Bucky frowned at my sarcasm before launching into it, “The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” “So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam asked.

“Who knows? There could be many reasons…But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”

“My gut is sounding off every alarm it has right now,” I commented from my place across from Bucky.

“Yeah, I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this, this is unnatural,” Sam replied finally, “Are you- and where are we, man?” A nearby door closing caused us to turn our attention towards it, a silhouette appearing soon after through a curtain. The shadow became a man and walked through the cloth divider wearing the face I’d had etched in my brain since the day it hit the news.

“You son of a bitch,” I mumbled, creating a ball of energy quickly with my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice rose, walking with me towards the man, “What are you doin’ here?” Bucky was quick to throw himself in front of us, “No, listen. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” “What the hell did you do?” I exclaimed.

“We need him,” Bucky said. Sam pointed to Zemo, “You’re going back to prison!”

“If I may,” the Sokovian man began, removing the hat of his stolen prison guard uniform.

“NO!” the three of us yelled at the same time. He hung his head, “Apologies…” Bucky turned back to Sam, “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me,” when Sam averted his gaze, Bucky chased it, “I’m asking you to do it again.”

“And what about her?” Sam gestured to me and the ball of energy I still had formed in my palms, “What happens when she breaks the law?” Bucky’s pleading eyes drifted to me, “He’s our only shot at getting any answers.” My mind was wrestling with itself, his rightness was inevitably going to come at a cost we would all have to pay. On a technicality, yes, I could plead innocent to freeing Zemo. A coconspirator charge, I wouldn’t be so lucky with. But stopping the Flag Smashers meant saving lives and that wasn’t something I could walk away from. I deformed the energy in my hands in cautious surrender, “I’m already breakin’ the law by going against the accords, I need to make it worth it at least.” Sam shot me an exasperated glance, but he didn’t fight me.

“I really think I’m invaluable…” Zemo began from his corner.

“Shut up…” Sam warned, effectively shutting him up. Sam thought it all over for a second before pressing his flashlight to Bucky’s chest, “Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Zemo shrugged, “Fair.”

The three of us shared an uneasy look, there was no going back now. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start?”

“Follow me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the auto shop and expecting us to follow. Sam went first, eager to keep his eye on Zemo at all times while Bucky and I brought up the rear.

“I didn’t want to have to go this route,” he said from beside me as if he owed me some explanation for his actions. I sighed, trying to shut off the part of my brain that was screaming at me, “Just be right.”

We maneuvered through a few corridors until we hit a room filled with beautiful antique cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam asked. “These are mine,” Zemo corrected, “Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people…like the Avengers,” he dug through one of the cars to pull out a bag and coat, “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” My eyes unavoidably flickered to Bucky, observing his reaction to hearing his old code name. He simply watched the man continue speaking. “To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started…” Sam commented.

“First stop is a woman named Selby,” Zemo stated as he headed for the exit, “Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.”

Sam, Bucky and I left a gaping distance between us and him, we were still highly suspicious and I had a feeling we would be until our temporary partnership came to an end.

————

Zemo had gotten word to somebody that we’d be meeting them at a private airport in Berlin and flying to someplace called Madripoor. Somehow we’d made the journey without being recognized, even those of us who were wanted across the globe. “So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as we made our way towards the private plane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam,” Zemo answered, “My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.”

Zemo greeted the man standing outside the plane, who was dressed like a butler, in Sokovian. “Well,” I crossed my arms and watched one of the world’s most dangerous men exchange cheek kisses, “If we’re going to work with a criminal, at least we picked one that comes with transportation.” “Please,” Zemo said, gesturing for us to follow him up the plane’s steps. Sam awkwardly bowed to the butler and headed up. Bucky extended a hand towards the jet for me to go ahead of him before following closely behind.

When we filed into the plane, Sam and Zemo were already seated. I moved to take the chair across from the baron, wanting to keep as close an eye on him as I could. Bucky’s flesh arm reached out quickly and grabbed my shoulder, I turned to question him and met his wary expression. “Sit with Sam,” he muttered quietly, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath as he’d spoken. It dawned on me that he wanted me to have the safer position. I answered with a nod, maneuvering around him to sit across from Sam. Even though his hand had left my arm, I could still feel its print through my jacket.

We had been flying for maybe twenty minutes when Zemo’s butler, Oeznik, came in carrying a glass of champagne for Zemo and offering to whip up some food. It astounded me how to the world, he was evil yet to his servants, he was a joy. “You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell,” the baron said before looking over at my brother, “Oh, that’s right. You do.”

Sam bypassed the jab remarkably, “Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”

“I’m sorry, I was just fascinated by this,” Zemo held up a book, “I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

Not two seconds after the name had left his lips, Bucky out of his seat with his metal hand wrapped around Zemo’s neck. My heart stopped as I watched him lean over the man threateningly. “If you touch that book again,” he growled, “I’ll kill you.” This was a side of Bucky I had yet to see, the one that straddled the line between his dark past and his true self. As he sat back down, tucking the book in his pocket and refusing to meet my eyes, I could tell he wasn’t pleased with how he’d acted. I wasn’t in a place to criticize but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly worried when his fingers hit Zemo’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” Zemo said, “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” “Don’t push it,” Bucky rasped, collecting himself after the scene.

“I’ve seen that book,” Sam spoke up, “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” “I like ’40’s music,” Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, “So…” “You didn’t like it?” Sam exclaimed.

“I liked it,” Bucky replied unconvincingly.

“It is a masterpiece, James,” Zemo chimed in, his hands forming a triangle, “Complete, comprehensive…It captures the African-American experience.” While my brows raised at the European’s surprising education, Sam’s furrowed. “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great, everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

Bucky shook his head, “I like Marvin Gaye.” “Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” “He did,” I chuckled, reminiscing back to only last year, “Played him almost anytime I got in a car with him.” “You must have really looked up to Steve,” Zemo said, “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.” “Watch your step, Zemo…” Sam warned. “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there,” he shrugged, “Cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” Zemo turned his attention to Bucky, “You remember that, right?” As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” “What’s up with Madripoor?” Sam looked between the two men, “You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago,” Bucky grumbled, “It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” “It’s kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves,” Zemo’s unsettling eyes moved back to Bucky, “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

With the way Bucky’s expression had changed in mere seconds from complacent to tortured, it didn’t take long to decode what Zemo was insinuating. “No,” I blurted out, “That’s not fair to ask of him.” “I admire your devotion, Y/n,” Zemo complimented with his lips to his champagne flute, taking a quick sip, “But you know nothing of how Madripoor works. If you want to get to Selby, we must have protection. More than that, we must have leverage. James can provide us both by simply playing a part.” “Devo-?” I shook my head, sidestepping Zemo’s comment, “That’s not playing a part, that’s like reliving every nightmare you’ve ever had. I-it’s like-“ “Y/n,” I turned to see Bucky’s chair rotated towards me, looking helpless and determined all at once, “We need in.” “Yeah, but…” I started to protested before seeing his eyes, those ocean blue eyes I was growing to feel comforted by begging me to let the subject go. I clenched my own y/e/c ones shut in frustration, “Okay.” “Now that that’s settled,” Zemo stood from his seat, “I will find us something to change into, we will need to blend in where we’re going.” ——

The silver dress Zemo had chosen for me was…it made me wonder just what kind of scene we were planning to enter. It was more revealing than anything I typically wore, but gorgeous nonetheless and fit perfectly.

As I was finishing my makeup in the bathroom of the plane, I had to take a second to steel myself for what was to come. This wasn’t just dallying with Super Soldiers any more, this was dancing with the criminal underworld. Zemo hadn’t told us yet the roles we were playing, only that we needed to stay in character at all cost. I had never felt more out of my depth, but had no choice but to rise to the occasion. Giving myself one last check in the mirror, I unlocked and exited the bathroom.

“Okay, I hope whoever I’m playing is bad with heels,” I held up the elaborate shoes Zemo had matched to my dress, “Because there’s no way I’m going to be graceful in these.” Sam looked up from tying his dress shoes, dressed in a maroon suit patterned with yellow circles. His eyes scanned my outfit unapprovingly. “Uh uh,” he protested, going full protective big brother, “Nope. It shows too much.” “It doesn’t matter what it shows,” I said, bending over to strap on the shoes, “It’s what I’ve got.” “She’s right,” Zemo chimed in, putting his jacket on, “You two are supposed to be rich, glamorous travelers of the world. You need to look the part,” he nodded towards me, “You wear it well.” I politely smiled at the baron and looked up to Bucky, perched in the far corner of the jet. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes quickly traveling down my body before quickly locking with mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his plush lips parted ever so slightly. I found myself just as drawn into him as he seemed to be with me, for a few seconds it was just the two of us shutting our surroundings out. It was…something. “You look nice,” Bucky finally said, his voice slightly strained.

My lips quirked upwards, “Thanks.” “It is time for us to leave,” Zemo announced, bursting the bubble Bucky and I had built, “You’d better get used to those shoes quickly, we’ll be making most of the journey by foot.” He hadn’t been lying. We departed the runway and walked our way towards the city. Madripoor looked beautiful on the outside, the high-rise buildings lit up in all different colors emitting a glow across the waters.

“We have to do something about this,” Sam finally exclaimed, holding the lapels of his patterned maroon suit, “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” “If you’re a pimp, what does that make me?” I gestured to the amount of skin I had on display, “Suck it up, Wilson.” “Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo added as we crossed the large bridge leading to the city, “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Sam took Zemo’s phone from his outstretched hand, “He even has a bad nickname.”

I leaned over to look at the picture of Sam’s doppelgänger, “Hey, be nice. That’s your twin you’re talking about.” “And you,” Zemo addressed me, “Conrad is known for entertaining beautiful women, one after the other,” he ignored the faces of disgust Sam and I made at the thought of acting as a couple, “You will be playing tonight’s date, no need to come up with a name or a story as his dates are typically just arm candy.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit and look pretty?” I side eyed Zemo in annoyance, “Great.” “You smell this?” he asked the group.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.

“Madripoor,” Zemo answered, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way,” Zemo pointed towards the part of the city I’d been admiring, “Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” We approached a car waiting for us at the end of the bridge, ready to take us into the darkest part of the city. Bucky, who had remained silent since the plane, climbed into the backseat first while Zemo took the passenger’s side. “Let me guess,” Sam remarked as we moved to get in the car, “We don’t have any friends in High Town.”

“I’m guessing not,” I muttered, ducking into the back seat and sliding till I was pressed against Bucky. He didn’t make a sound, he barely even registered my presence. I was about to ask him if he was alright when I realized what he was doing. We all had our roles to play and Bucky was doing just that.

Sam climbed in next to me and we took off, me sandwiched between the two men trying to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t to get answers, but my nerves was convincing me I was going to mess it up for us. No margin for error, Zemo’s words bounced around in my brain. He’d said our lives depended on it. They depended on whether or not I could keep it together. Sam must have sensed my anxiety because I felt his palm slide against my clammy one and squeeze. I sent a shaky one back, taking what comfort I could that I didn’t have to do this alone.

We were escorted in by a motorcade till we got to the seedier part of the city, the bridge we parked under painted with graffiti. Sam helped me out of the car and Zemo took our group through the back way into the city. As we crossed the overhead bridge, looking down into the city, I began to feel like my life had suddenly become some fever dream. Even more so once we entered the city and I was surrounded by people from all walks of life. Smugglers were making deals, guards were stationed outside buildings with machine guns, forgers were trying to sell to people. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Sam kept me on his arm the entire time, selling our characters while still retaining his protective nature. We followed Zemo into a crowded bar, weaving our way through. “Here we are,” he announced quietly, our fellow patrons took notice as soon as they caught sight of Bucky, “Gotov podchinit'sya, zimniy soldat?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?)

I tried my best to keep my face neutral, though an unwelcome chill went down my spine as Zemo began his act. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Bucky or his recovery to make him do this.

We approached the bar and the bartender came over immediately, “Hello, gentlemen. Ma’am. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” “His plans changed,” Zemo explained, “We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender looked over suspiciously at Sam, “The usual?” Sam nodded casually in response and the man walked away to begin prepping the drink. What took us by surprise was when he reached for a jar containing a dead snake rather than the bottle of alcohol. He proceeded to lay the reptile on a cutting board and slice its stomach open, I looked up to Sam who was doing his best to keep his composure. “Ah, Smiling Tiger,” Zemo jeered, “Your favorite.”

The bartender removed a piece of the snake’s guts and sunk it into a shot glass filled with vodka. I covered my mouth with my clutch to conceal my delight at the sight I was about to behold. Sam caught the action and addressed the bartender, “You know what? She’ll have one too.” “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I quickly protested, waving it off as if it were a shot of tequila and not an animal intestine.

“No, girl, I insist,” Sam grinned phonily at me.

“They actually upset my stomach,” I giggled, glancing to the bartender, “Can’t hold my liquor to save my life, I’ll be up all night sick if it touches my lips. But you enjoy, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t pay much attention to the exchange as he set the shot glass in front of Sam, who looked unconvincingly between the glass and Zemo. “I love these,” he stated, holding it up for us all to see.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo clinked his glass against Sam’s.

Sam made several, hopefully convincing, noises of excitement about his drink. After giving it one last look, he shot it straight down, holding a thumbs up to the bartender afterwards.

“How badly are you trying not to throw up right now?” I whispered after the man had left.

“I can’t even hear you right now,” Sam replied in a strained voice, focusing on keeping the drink where it needed to be. An intimidating bearded man made us all turn around, he looked to Zemo. “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo, ever the cool and collected presence, turned to the man. “I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky, standing at his side.

“New haircut?” the man asked Bucky, who stayed silent.

“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo finished.

The man left, leaving us with questions. “A power broker?” Bucky grumbled, “Really?” “Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam inconspicuously asked. “Only be reputation the baron answered, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

I spotted another man approaching us, this one walking with a purpose. Zemo looked to Bucky, the show was about to start. “Zimniy Soldat,” Bucky nodded once, “Attask.” (Winter Soldier, attack.) As soon as the stranger thumped Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang to action, his metal hand grabbing and twisting the man’s arm. He pushed him to the center of the room where he proceeded to twist it further before dropping him to the ground. The groans coming from him were sickening as he lay helpless, clutching his most likely broken arm. As another patron came up to attack, Bucky moved fast to disarm him before power kicking him into a table several times. I clung to Sam’s arm even tighter as Zemo shoved someone forward for Bucky to punch, sending him sliding across the floor.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo slyly observed, from my side. It took everything in me not to send him flying across the room right then. He was enjoying this.

When Bucky lifted a man by his throat and slammed him down on the bar was when guns all over the bar were cocked. Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm, ready to pull him back to us and to reality. “Stay in character,” Zemo whispered, dead serious, “Or the whole bar turns on us.” Sam dropped his arm as Zemo leaned into Bucky, “Molodets, soldat.” (Well done, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said, watching the scene in awe. Bucky slowly let the man go, gasping and groaning for air once he was freed. Sam looked over warily, “You good?” When Bucky faced us, his eyes met mine before they met Sam’s. I wished I could have concealed my reaction better for his sake, but the second he had attacked was the first time since we’d met that I’d been properly scared of him. It made the incident on the plane look like nothing. My mind knew he was just acting, pretending to be someone he once was for the sake of furthering our mission. But my blood ran just as cold with fear as it would have if the Winter Soldier was standing in front of me. Bucky’s eyes now were watery, filled with pain that he’d worked hard with his therapist to get through, now being brought back to life. Had the bar not been watching and had I not needed to stick with Sam, I’d have been at his side trying to make sure he was alright. Instead, I could only watch as he sniffled, nodded to Sam and followed Zemo to wherever we were going next.

We were escorted upstairs through a series of hallways with a heavily armed guard following us. A white haired woman sat in the middle of the room we were led to, tapping her fingers against the couch she lounged on. “You should know, Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Zemo smiled, “Not a demand. An offer.”

Sam and I took our places standing next to Selby, Bucky stood watch across from us, back in his act.

“A lot has changed since you were here last,” Selby spared a look at Bucky, “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugged, “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

Selby pointed a blind finger towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger,” she eyed Sam suggestively and gave him a purr before turning her attention to me, “And what a lovely little dish you’ve got with you.” Internally I was struggling to stay calm and had never felt more exposed with the thin materiel of the dress over my body. “What’s the offer?” Selby grinned at Zemo.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo replied, rising from his seat to circle Bucky, “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want,” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s chin, playing with it to provoke him but knowing he could get away with it. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember,” Selby approved, “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but…things didn’t go as planned.”

I squeezed Sam’s arm, we were getting answers. The crazy, chaotic plan was actually working. “Is Nagal still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“Oh, the bread crumbs you can have for free,” Selby’s flirtatious demeanor shifted as she stood to business-like, “But the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.”

A sudden vibration tickled my arm from Sam’s suit pocket, it was his cell phone. He pulled it out hesitantly and looked down at it, I glanced over to see that it was Sarah calling.

“Answer it,” Selby ordered, Bucky had moved behind her to give us protection if need be, “On speaker.” The armed bodyguards moved in closer, it was clear we had no say in the matter. Sam unlocked his phone and pressed the speaker button, “Hello?” “Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation,” Sarah’s voice filled the air, sending an all too brief wave of peace through me, “It’s been drivin’ me nuts.”

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam replied stiffly. “Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”

“What situation, Sarah?” Sam’s voice grew louder, “Say it.”

“The damn boat,” Sarah replied just as hard, “And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank.”

Sarah. The boat. Home. And here I was standing in a designer dress meeting with Indonesian crime bosses. Two unbelievable worlds were colliding on the call.

Sam scoffed and nervously chuckling, “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much, yeah, they’ll come around.” “If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see,” Sam paused menacingly, “When I have that banker killed.”

We almost had Selby convinced as I watched her pace around the room, we were so close to- “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!” Sarah yelled, “Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back, and make sure Y/n is with you too.” “Sam? Y/n?” Selby echoed the names, “Who are you? Kill them!”

A second after she had given the order, a bullet shot through the nearby window and struck her chest fatally. The four of us sprung to action, Sam landing punches on the guard stationed behind us while I used my energy to pull the machine gun from his grasp. Across from us, Bucky took care of the other guard. I handed the weapon to Sam and we took our positions in the back of the room, ready to retaliate against the hidden assassin. “They’re gonna pin this on us,” Sam panted, our backs against the wall.

“We have a real problem now,” Zemo said, unbelievably calm for someone in our situation, “So leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Bucky ripped the lock on the back door and the four of us filed down the staircase quick as we could. It dropped us back off in the middle of the city, we hurriedly made our way down the street where all heads were turning to us. “This is not good,” Zemo hurried. The words hung in the air for a grand total of five seconds before bullets started to rain down around us. Bucky, Sam and I tore down the street where in the chaos, Zemo took off in another direction.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled over the gunfire. “Oh, I don’t wanna hear it,” I exclaimed, struggling to keep up with them in my stilettos, “Screw it!”

I threw my hands out to my side and lifted off the ground, keeping low enough to dodge any shots but stay close to Sam and Bucky. Two motorcycles sped after us promising more bounty hunters, Zemo caught up with us and killed two lone gunmen hiding behind a dumpster. Two perfectly aimed bullets came out of nowhere and lodged themselves in the heads of the cyclists chasing us.

“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo observed as the three of us looked around for our savior.

“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice said, she appeared seconds later drawing back her hood and pointing a gun toward us, “Drop it, Zemo.”

Bucky stepped forward disbelievingly, “Sharon?” Sharon Carter. I recognized her only from the pictures I’d seen of her on the news when the shitstorm that branded her an enemy of the state went down. As she strode forward, ready to strike down the man responsible, I couldn’t say with certainty if she was an ally or not. “You cost me everything,” she seethed.

“Sharon, wait,” Sam, ever the steady presence, held a hand out and carefully came towards her, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” “Well, that explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.”

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she answered, her face contorting, “I also took the wings for your ass,” she aimed her gun at Sam, “So that you could save his ass,” then at Bucky, “From his ass,” the gun landed on me after Zemo, “Your ass is new.” “I’ve had one hell of an initiation, trust me,” I replied, standing my ground between Bucky and Zemo.

Sharon turned back towards Sam, “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too,” Sam recalled. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore,” Sharon shook her head sadly, “I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen, Sharon,” Bucky stepped forward, “We need your help. Please.” Sharon mirthlessly chuckled to herself, sighing afterwards as she made her decision. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

While Sam roughly shoved Zemo forward to keep him in his line of sight, Bucky pressed a gentle hand to the small of my back to act as a guide through the dark alleyways. “You okay?” he asked quietly, quickly looking over at me. With everything he’d gone through in the last twenty minutes, the fight in the bar, the unshed tears in his eyes, Zemo talking about him like he was property to be traded, I couldn’t understand why he was asking if I was alright. He was what I was concerned with right now. “I will be once I get out of these shoes,” I joked, trying to get him to smile if at all possible. A corner of his lips turned upwards in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it flash, mine doing the same right after in some sort of relief.

Sharon led us to her car parked down a different alley, Sam shoved Zemo in the front seat while him, Bucky and I squeezed in the backseat once again. The difference between Low Town and High Town was visceral, Madripoor may have been dangerous no matter where you went but High Town provided a little more safety. When we arrived at Sharon’s house, greeted by two burly guards, the feeling of protection increased. The first room we entered was filled with artwork, statues and other priceless works that told us exactly what Sharon had done to afford her lifestyle in High Town.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well,” Sam commented as we walked through the room.

“Well, I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler,” Sharon shrugged, far too goodheartedly for a true criminal, “You know how much I can get for a real Monet?” Sam grinned at his friend, “Deactivate your hustle mood, you sell fake Monets.”

“No, she means real,” Zemo corrected, “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” “I kinda thought that was implied,” I said, following Sharon and Zemo and beginning to relax in the shockingly calm environment, “No offense.” Sharon scoffed, “None taken, a girl’s gotta do what she can to survive. By the way, who are you?”

“Y/n Y/l/n,” I answered, “Sam’s sister.” “Hmm,” Sharon hummed, looking me over once before turning around to hurry Sam and Bucky along, “Come on, you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour. You,” she pointed to me, “Second door on your left, I’ll bring something up for you.” At the promise of shedding the over exposing dress and blistering heels, I had never moved faster in my life.

————

I took the opportunity to catch my breath while I could, the night had been a little too exciting than any of us had wanted. Sitting on the edge of Sharon’s bed with my elbows balanced on my knees, I felt the adrenaline rush I’d been running on start to subside.

The door opened, bringing in Sharon and her garment of choice. “This looked like it would fit you,” she said, tossing me a black jumpsuit that looked ten times more comfortable than what I was in. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit for herself, “I gotta change too, back to back?” “Works for me,” I replied, turning around and beginning to unzip the dress.

“So you said you’re Sam’s sister but your last name isn’t Wilson?” Sharon asked, I could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor.

“We grew up together,” I freed myself of the dress and kicked it to the corner of the room.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though,” she said, “This is probably the shittiest family road trip you could go on so clearly there’s a reason.” I looked over to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to it. I used my energy to levitate them and landed them at Sharon’s side. Her dry chuckle served as her reaction. “I kinda begged him to bring me,” I explained as I pulled the jumpsuit up my body, “He was going to send me back home before John Walker decided to not so subtly threaten me with the Sokovian Accords, figured I’d be safer here with them.” “Safer?” Sharon scoffed, “Did he say this before or after you were being shot at by bounty hunters?”

“Well, between getting shipped off to jail and going undercover with a superhero and a Super Soldier as protection, I’ll take my chances here.” I heard Sharon walk away, presumably finished dressing. I zipped up the suit and tightened the belt, turning around after to find her leaned up against her dresser with her hands in her pockets. “Look, I know we just met but let me do you a favor and shed some light on the subject of heroics. It’s all bullshit. The whole costume, nickname, swoop-in-and-save-the-day act is all hypocrisy. I get that you’re young, you’ve got,” she waved a hand at mine, “Whatever that is. Maybe you want to do some good, maybe you just want to feel like you’re a part of something. Maybe you didn’t think it through at all and just thought it would be cool to run with a superhero. But if you’re smart, you’ll get your ass on a plane to anywhere but here and stay clear of all this.”

There was so much going through my head that I wanted to throw back at her, proving her speech completely wrong. Then I remembered that this woman had sacrificed more than most had and the government had turned their backs on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Steve and Sam and had been punished for it. Plus, she was kind enough to give us refuge when she had every right now to. I wasn’t in a place to criticize her. If anything, she should have been a cautionary tale. “I’ve had these powers all my life and have never known what to do with them,” I responded, “I want to help people and this is the best way for me to do that. As easy as it would be for some people to walk away, this is personal and I can’t leave now.” Sharon stared back at me silently before pushing herself off the dresser and brushing past me. There were layers of her expression, if I could peel each one back I thought I might get to the sadness I suspected she felt regarding her current life status. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out a pair of combat boots and handed them to me. “Then take a step back and ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. And if the three of you live long enough to get there, is it going to be worth the hell that’ll come afterwards?” She gave me a half smile before leaving the room, her heavy words hanging in the air. Steve had been my friend, Sam was my brother and Bucky was quickly climbing the ranks of people I cared about. I was going to see this through to the end with them, but what was the end? Was it retrieving the rest of the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers? Was it only two of us returning? One? None? Questions I didn’t have the answers to swirled in my mind as I stared at the door, wondering what awaited us for the rest of the night.

----

A/N: Next chapter is going to be...let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of developments. A lot. Hope you guys are enjoying it, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged.

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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katsukikiss · 3 years

Text

I FUCKIN HATE YOU

CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP // MINORS DNI // EREN X F!READER

Warnings: NSFW 18+, fingering, unprotected sex, alcohol use, noncon touching(ish), hate fucking?, creampie m, idk what else

AN: This is a collab for @bordemm bunny’s rager! It had to fit the theme/vibe of a song and mine was ‘IFHY’ by Tyler the Creator! Give it a listen when you’re about halfway through!

Big thanks to @morelikebaku-no for beta reading this for me!

WC: 5.2K

Masterlist

How did you two get to this point? Why did you hate each other? He would always shove you into walls when you got too close to him and you’d slap him across the arm in retaliation. He would mock how eager you were to please and achieve on missions, and you’d scoff at his selfishness. You threw insults and jabs back and forth whenever you two were near, which wasn’t too often anymore. Although, you weren’t the one who started this all. He used to be so nice, asking you if you needed help, giving you his food, riding your horses side by side. You were both so fond of one another, a bond you had shared since childhood. You thought you might’ve even loved him, but something snapped in Eren one day. You couldn’t understand why he changed so much after that day.

Eren remembered the day perfectly. You both got ready that morning before you set off for what would be a horrible evening. Your squad had a relatively easy mission to complete, but something felt off to you. Eren rested a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that everything would be okay, and that he’d protect you. He always stuck close to you on these missions, fearing that he’d lose you like he lost everyone else.

You set off on horseback together. You were a skilled cadet, well seasoned in using your ODM gear. Eren hated when you’d get cocky and push yourself too far, but thats why he stuck so close, but not this time. Levi sent you and Jean forward in a group of two, despite Erens pleas to be paired up with you. You shot him a reassuring smile before you and Jean pushed forward and to the right. Eren had to stay in the center with Levi and Armin, his eyes trailing off to watch you descend further away from him.

You and Jean easily took out five abnormals, you killing three and him taking out the other two. You were in a state of euphoria, zipping through the trees. Jean admired your strength and confidence, but they all still saw you as someone that needed protecting, and it royally pissed you off. You slung off to the left, Jean quickly losing sight of you.

“Y/N! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING?!” he howled out to you. He swiftly maneuvered around to try and follow you. Then he heard you scream.

Your blood curdling screams echoed through the forest. ‘T-Thats y/n’ Eren thought to himself.

“EREN WAIT!” Armin loudly pleaded, but Eren was gone, slashing his way through the trees to where your voice came from. Rage was radiating through his body, how could Jean have lost you, let you get hurt. He swore he was going to beat him half to death for letting something happen to you. He moved at an inhuman speed, frantically looking around for where you might be. Then he saw a 15 meter titan, with a tight grasp on you and your neck. Blood was dripping from your nose and lips, you lacked the ability to scream anymore.

Without thinking, Eren transformed. It was dangerous for him to go into his titan form, with you so close and vulnerable, but his body acted on its own will. He lunged at the titan, his mouth clamping hard onto the arm in which you were trapped in. The arm came tumbling to the ground, with you hurdling down with it. Eren was too blinded by rage that he failed to realize you were about to splatter on the ground. He continued to thrash at the titan that once held you. You looked down and your eyes filled with fear. Why wasn't he going to catch you? Suddenly you heard quick sipping noises and you were caught by Jean. He glanced down at you nervously, his breath heaving. He perched up onto a large branch and sat you down against the trunk of the tree.

“Oh my god y/n are you okay?!” he asked in a panicky breath, cupping your face in his calloused hands. You shook as you looked over his shoulder to see Eren still on a rampage, but now he was running towards you two. You lifted a quivering finger to point to him, your throat bruised and unable to form words, and Jean quickly turned his head. A large hand was coming down at you two. Jean scooped you up and slung the two of you away as the branch snapped. Eren let out a shrieking scream that sent shivers down both of your spines. Jean never let up his tight grasp on you as he navigated his way through the forest, trying to get as far away as possible. Eren hadn’t lost control in so long, and now he was trying to kill you.

You got back to the rest of the squad, and Jean explained what had happened. Armin, Mikasa and Levi all went back into the forest to find Eren. He was in a clearing, sticking out of the nape of his now disintegrating titan form, sobbing uncontrollably. They approached him with caution. He hysterically screamed at them, “I'M A MONSTER, I ALMOST KILLED HER!”

You had spent three months in the infirmary, healing from the broken arm and bruised windpipe you had suffered. Everyone came to visit you regularly, except Eren. He never came by to see you, and shuddered when Armin finally recommended that he should.

“I dont want to fucking see her” he muttered under his breath. Armin stopped speaking, not wanting to push his friend over the edge again. You were finally strong enough to go back to your own room, eat in the dining halls, and train. Much to your dismay, Levi wasn’t going to put you back on missions for awhile.

Your first day back in the dining hall, everyone beamed a smile at you.

“Hey y/n! Why dont you come sit over here?” Jean shouted to you. You smiled and looked away, opting for your usual table instead. You made your way to Armin, Mikasa and Eren with your tray. You plopped your tray down and scooted your way over to Eren. His head was low until you sat down. He looked up at you with anger in his eyes.

He was never angry at you, but at himself. He feared being anywhere near you. You almost died at his hands and he could never forgive himself for that. You were so sweet, never once holding a grudge for what happened that day. He hated how forgiving you were, it made it all so much harder. He made a promise to himself that he needed to stay away from you, make you hate him if it meant you’d be safe.

“Long time no see Eren!” you exclaimed. Mikasa and Armin both looked at Eren anxiously. He slammed his fist on the table, standing up and walking away.

“What's his problem?” you asked the other two who were looking at you with doe eyed expressions.

“Not sure, but I think it's best if you keep your distance for a little okay y/n?” Armin said in an apologetic tone. He could see the pain and worry twist its way into your face. ‘What did I do wrong?’ you asked yourself. Tears flooded down your face as you ran out of the dining hall back into your room. You told yourself this wouldn’t last long and things would be back to normal but you were so wrong.

Six months later and now you and Eren thoroughly hated one another. You couldn’t take his insults and cold shoulder anymore so you threw it back at him, making the divide between you two grow larger with every passing day. You let your feelings from before the mission drift away and all you were left with was resentment and anger. You never understood why he turned so cold but you didn’t care to figure it out anymore, he never wanted to be around you and that was it. But little did you know, someone else had really convinced him to stay away from you. He wanted to try and talk to you one day but Mikasa coerced him out of it, telling him that it would make things worse and that he would only end up hurting you again. He believed her and vowed to stay away from you.

It was a crisp Saturday evening. The regiment was going to be drinking and celebrating a successful mission outside together later that night, even Levi and Erwin would be attending. You made your way over to Sasha’s room to talk and get ready. It was nice to finally have a day to let loose and have fun. You and Sasha decided to take some sheers to old shirts and create sexy twist tops; neither of you had attire for a night out like this. You took an old black t-shirt of Erens that he had given to you one night, looking at it you felt a pang in your heart, before you shook it away and began to cut. You twisted it in the middle, giving your breasts little fabric hammocks to rest in. You pulled the straps up and over your shoulder. You shoved yourself into some high waisted jeans before heading out with Sasha.

It was a lively sight. People hugging and laughing, ignoring the horrible world they lived in for a while. Connie waved you and Sasha over to him and Jean who were seated around a high table. You jumped up onto a stool between the two boys and across from your friend. Jean had a pitcher of beer on the table and four glasses for you all. You finished three pitchers all together in the matter of 30 minutes, talking and cracking jokes the whole time.

You looked around and spotted Armin red faced, blabbering off to Commander Erwin, whose face was also flushed red from the alcohol he had consumed. It was a pleasant surprise that made you smile, seeing the two blonde men letting loose for a bit. Then you saw Eren and Mikasa, sitting at a table together getting belligerently drunk. You were never jealous of her, he always told you she was like a sister to him, but then you shook your head. ‘What? Why would I even be jealous anyway…’ you looked away from the pair, cursing at yourself for even feeling that way. ‘He hates you, you hate him’ you reminded yourself.

Your attention was snapped back when Connie placed four shots onto the table. You were no stranger to drinking, you actually really enjoyed it; maybe too much. You all nodded, tapping your shots down on the table, bringing them up, clanging them all together, then slamming them back onto the table before throwing the clear alcohol back into your mouths. Sasha groaned at the foul taste, begging Connie to go get some food with her to wash it out of her mouth. They headed off towards a table of food, leaving you and Jean alone. You looked back over at Eren, but he and Mikasa were both gone. Your mind started racing, but you kept your calm on the outside. You were pretty drunk at this point, vision a bit distorted, but your words still came out presentable. Jean laughed, he watched you sway in your seat before gripping tightly onto the table almost falling.

“You alright pretty girl?” Jean asked in a flirty voice. He was always super kind to you, especially after the accident, but he also learned not to baby you anymore after that. Sure, he was mad you ran off on your own, but he understood why you did that in the moment, you felt like you needed to prove something. You didn’t mind him taking a coy tone with you tonight.

“Oh yeahh don't worry about me” you said, dragging your words a bit in a teasing voice. You winked at him and he blushed. You were typically sarcastic when Jean flirted with you but not now. He was cute, maybe not ideal but you can’t be that picky when you weren’t dealt a great hand in the Scouts. He slid his hand across the table and grabbed onto yours gently. You looked up at him with a wide eyed, innocent look on your face. You looked to the side to see if Eren came back around, but to your frustration he was still nowhere to be found. You looked back at Jean.

“You know, I’ve always thought you were so beautiful y/n” he confesses, his grip on your hand tightening. You probably would have blushed under normal circumstances, but your drunken state left you smirking at him with an insatiable gleam in your eyes.

“So why don’t we…” your voice trailing off, you nodded your head to the side, signaling to Jean that you wanted to ditch the party and be alone. His entire face flushed red and his pupils dilated. He was so eager to finally have you to himself. He stood up briskly as did you. He held onto your hand, walking forward without saying a word to you. You started to feel a bit intimidated by the tall handsome man as he led you away from the crowd and into the dark of the night. But someone was watching you two, never stopped watching.

He pushed you up against the stables and began ravenously kissing at your neck and squeezing at your breast. Being touched deprived and drunk made you moan at his every touch.

“You look fucking incredible in this shirt” he huffed out. His lips came back to yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth. He started to move his hand lower and lower. You started to get nervous, you didn’t want to go this far, you weren’t ready to. You grabbed at his arm and whimpered out, “I-I don’t wanna do that right now, okay?” Jean kept moving his hands down. You weren’t sure if maybe he didn’t hear you or was too drunk or was just flat out ignoring you. Then his hand was forcefully pulled out of your pants as he fell backwards into the ground.

“Get the fuck off of her and get out of here. Now” Eren demanded in a fierce tone. He was standing above Jean, looking down at him. Any haziness you had in your head was washed away when you saw the scene unfold in front of you. Jean scrambled to get to his feet before looking Eren right in the eye.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he challenged. Eren was seething with anger. They both burned holes into each other's eyes. You didn’t want to see anyone get hurt because of you, so you spoke up.

“Jean, it's okay, I'm okay, I’ll catch up with you later okay?” you tried to reassure him. He looked at you confused then back at Eren with a grimace before turning away from the two of you.

“Alright whatever” he groaned, disappointed. You looked at the man in front of you for a second, before you lazily lunged at him with a fist. You were so angry and emotional when you saw him leave. Your coordination still wasn’t functioning at its best, he easily dodged and grabbed your wrist.

“What the fuck were you doing back here? Was he trying to..?” he manically questioned before letting go of his grasp on your arm. You were surprised to see how riled up he was over seeing you with Jean. You decided to push your luck.

“Why do you care Eren? And yeah, we were going to fuck until you came and ruined it” you spat at him.

“I heard you y/n, and I saw him ignore you. Don't play tough when I know you aren’t” he hissed back at you.

“What is wrong with you? Why were you watching us, you freak? Weren’t you off fucking Mikasa?” you sneered at him. You were embarrassed that he caught you lying, but even more embarrassed that he watched Jean touch all over you.

“You should be grateful I was here, who knows what we would’ve done” he answered, ignoring your comment about Mikasa. It gave him pleasure knowing you still cared a bit, that maybe you were even jealous.

“Grateful? I have no reason to be thanking you, I can handle myself just fine now leave me alone” you said, shoving your way past him. He grabbed your arm and yanked you back.

“What the fuck Eren. Get off of me…don’t you have another girl to harass?” you scoffed at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he stated in a shadowy tone.

“Don’t play dumb, you and Mikasa left together”

“We didn’t..but why do you care hm?” he asked, slightly smirking. He was lying, but he didn’t want you to know that just yet.

“I don’t give a shit, fuck whoever you want but don’t ruin my sex life too”

“I actually never left the party”

“Yes you did”

“Maybe you didn’t see me, but I was there, watching you,” he confessed.

“Eren what the fuck” you said, afflicted by what he had just said. Over the last year he spent everyday avoiding you, your gaze, your touch, and when you were around he was nothing short of evil to you. But here he was, hands on your wrists, having the longest conversation you two had ever had since the mission. You felt your emotions being pulled in every direction. ‘He still cares. He hates you. He’s an asshole. Does he miss you?’ You couldn’t figure out what to think, but one thing you knew was that you couldn’t forgive him for the way he had treated you.

“I don’t know why you were watching over me, or why you’re even talking to me right now, but I want to leave. I don’t want anything to do with you” you stammered. It wasn’t entirely true. You missed him so much, but that was the old him. You don’t even know who you’re looking at anymore.

“Y/n, I know that isn’t true” he said, inching closer to you. You could smell alcohol on his breath and the scent made you dizzy. You backed up, trying to pull your hands from his grip but it was of no use. Your back was up against the wood of the stables.

“I've missed you so much, you have no idea” he remarked, with a hint of sadness in his voice. You looked up at Eren, finally locking eyes with him. You hadn’t looked him in the eyes in so long. Despite everything, his eyes were the same as you remembered. They looked at you sympathetically, with love and tenderness, the way he used to. However, your fleeting moment of empathy turned quickly back into anger

“How could you?! How could you just cut me out of your life, treat me like a fucking stranger? And you have the audacity to pull this little stunt! ” you screamed at him, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I-Im sorry, I-“ he was cut off by your hand sharply smacking him across the face. He stumbled back and away from you.

“Get the fuck away from me. You don’t get to just walk back into my life, no, fuck that and fuck you” you refuted. Your reply hit him harder than the slap. He couldn’t let you go, never again. The brief compassion he had was gone. He was done trying to be gentle, you had awakened something that had lied dormant for months. He spent so long trying to stay away from you, his thoughts tormenting him, but you were different now. He was going to go easy on you, slowly open up to you to see if you could accept him into your life again, but it seemed he couldn’t take that approach anymore. He slammed you back into the side of the stable, trapping your arms behind your back and gripped your jaw with one large hand.

“I did that all for you. You don’t know how hard it was for me to be mean to you, to stay away from you. But here you are, and I'm not going to hold back anymore” he revealed with a low predatory voice, sending an aching chill to your core. He slipped his free hand under your little makeshift shirt and ferociously clutched at your breast. He aggressively pressed his lips against yours, his heart fluttering as he finally felt your soft pretty lips against his own. A low whine vibrated in your throat. You wanted to be stronger, to push him away from you but your resolve crumbled.

“I don’t want to see you around Jean or any other guy here, do you understand me?” Eren murmured, his throat rasping with the low tone he took.

‘Excuse me, what did he just say?’ You couldn’t just take orders from him, not after all he put you through. You snapped out of the trance he had you under. You looked at him with scalding eyes and spit onto his face. It was risky, but you weren’t thinking straight. Again, you were conflicted between screaming at him or accepting him, hating him or loving him. He looked down at the dirt and slowly dragged his hand across his face, wiping your saliva from his cheek. He creeped his head back up, his vile look tormenting you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are Eren? Trying to tell me what to do with my body? Fuck off” you hissed back at him. You tried to move away from him but his hand was encasing your fragile throat.

“I know you miss me baby, I know you want to let me back in, but you have too much pride, you were always too stubborn. Let me show you what you’re missing” he muttered. You wanted him to be wrong but he was so right. You desperately wanted to forgive him and bring everything back to the way it used to be. His free hand unzipped your tight jeans and tugged them down to the ground. His thick digits started to rub against your folds through your pink lace panties. His other hand moved from your neck to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. He bit and sucked at the tender flesh of your neck, leaving little territorial marks all over you. Your lips parted to let out soft mewls. The last few months suddenly flashed before you, bringing anger back to the forefront of your mind.

“I h-hate you!” you screamed. Despite enjoying the way he was making you feel, you still had so much to let out.

“Don’t say that” he growled. His hands were under the fabric of your panties now, two fingers pumping in and out of you. His thumb reached around to swirl erotic circles on your sensitive nub.

“I mean it” you softly moaned out.

“No babygirl, you don’t. You can’t lie to me” He cooed into your ear. His fingers pace inside you abruptly quickened causing you to let out a pleasurable cry. Something about this new Eren was making your mind go crazy, he had an intense hunger for you and a depraved way of fulfilling it.

“Come back to me y/n, let's start over” he groaned into your ear, and you had a feeling he wasn’t suggesting that, but rather demanding. He tried to reach for your hand.

He desperately wanted you to touch him. You held your arms behind your back the entire time, by choice. You didn’t want to make him feel good, you didn’t want to feel his body, his face, his hair, or you knew you’d completely come undone.

“N-no Eren” you stammered. You were pushing his buttons, seeing how far you could go, how much he could take. He was starting to get angrier, revealing his deep sinful nature. He flicked his two fingers up, hitting your spongy spot every time they prodded back into you. His talented digits made your chest rise and fall quickly, letting short strained breaths and cries out.

“Wrong answer. You don’t get a choice. You will be mine” he demanded. Just as these words left his mouth your walls began to involuntarily clench around his fingers, your juices releasing all over them. You scraped your nails into the wood behind you, desperately trying to offer yourself some comfort. His possessive words should be scaring you, making you uncomfortable, but they only make you long for him more. Something about his controlling nature was truly intoxicating.

“I knew it, you do miss me, don’t you babygirl? I knew I should’ve done this earlier” he insinuated, a shameless smile creeping up on his face. He pulled his fingers out of your sobbing hole and brought them up to his mouth. He lolled his tongue out and slowly dragged his fingers down, savoring your sweet taste. You watched him in the lewd act, but thought about his words for a moment. ‘I knew I should’ve done this earlier’ you want to ask him what he meant but before you could speak his mouth was on yours, lips meeting once again. He gave you a wet kiss before pulling away to look at you. He pet your face and swept your wet strands of hair off your sweating forehead. Even all hot and messy, you still looked so adorable to him.

“Please baby, I can’t take it anymore. Put your arms around me” he begged. You gave the slightest nod of disapproval, pissing him off again.

“When I try to ask nicely you refuse. What is it with you?” he scowled at you. He yanked your arms from behind your back, making you yelp. He put them on his shoulders and pressed his body flush to yours. You stopped trying to fight his advances, wrapping one hand behind his neck and the other snaked through his hair.

His clothed bulge was firmly pressed against your exposed cunt. You began to buck your hips forward into him, forcing a low moan to escape his lips. He placed his hands on your thighs and hoisted them up and around his waist. You continued to kiss and explore each other's mouths with your tongues. You twirled yours around his, as if they were always meant to dance with one another.

He picked up your pants and carried you a few over to a shed. He kicked the door open, removed a hand from your ass to pull a light on. You looked and saw an old steel table with miscellaneous tools and blueprints all over it. Eren used a hand to shove everything to the side and sat you down. He stood between your legs, your neck angled painfully high to kiss the man towering above you. His hands moved down to his crotch as he meticulously unbuttoned his slacks. His throbbing member sprung from his boxers as he lowered them down his legs. Your mind was racing as you thought about what was actually happening. He pressed his cock against your needy hot cunt, sweeping through your puffy lips with it. All inhibition left your body from the touch. You pulled him close to you, the heat radiating between your legs.

“Fuck me Eren, please” you begged him. Your words made his blood hot.

“About time” he groaned. He aligned his cock with your tight entrance. He firmly grabbed your ass cheeks as he slowly advanced himself into your sobbing cunt. Your walls clung onto his swollen tip. He bucked his hips before completing bottoming out inside of you, gently grazing your cervix. His thrusts turned into brutal ramming, the entire table shaking with ever hard pound into you. Your lower stomach was bulging with every assault, your head hanging back from the feeling.

“Do you still hate me now?” he spat at you. His eyes transfixed on your bouncing tits. You couldn’t think straight, the pleasure of his cock hitting you in all the right places scrambled your brain.

“N-No no Eren fu-uck just fuck me, faster please!” you squealed out. He was already savagely slamming into you, but he answered your calls and quickened his pace. He grabbed you by the neck, forcing your head forward to look into his eyes.

“Tell me, tell me you’re mine” he whined into your ear. His eyes looked primal, as if he would devour you if you didn’t answer him correctly. You could tell he was close, his thrusts were getting sloppier and all he could do was let out husky breaths and little moans.

“Ah fuck I’m all yours Eren!” you cried out.

“ONLY mine”

“Y-yess ONLY yours”

Your legs wrapped around him as your orgasm shocked your entire body. You gripped his dark locks and looked up to see Eren’s eyes looking at yours, admiring the way your face contorted with pleasure. His knees buckled as his cock twitched inside you, releasing his warm thick cum all over your walls. He slowly dragged himself out of you, huffing heavy breaths out. Your legs fell down to dangle off the side of the table again. You rested your head onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, placing his head on top of yours. You both laid there, chests heaving in unison. You abruptly pulled away, startling him, and you looked up.

“Why d-did you leave me Eren?” you asked, tears welling up in your solemn eyes. He looked to the side, saddened by the question, and trying to find the right words.

“Because, I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought you’d be better off away from me after the mission and I-“

“Why would I be better off that way? You hurt me even more by doing that…”

“I nearly killed you y/n! I almost lost you, and everyone made me feel like I would be a danger to you” he whispered. Anguish and hurt flooded his voice when he spoke to you. The once domineering man was crumbling as he gave his confession to you.

“Why did you wait so long? Why now?” you said, pulling aggressively on his shirt. You recalled him saying he wanted ‘to do this sooner’ but never got to ask about it. He rubbed the back of his neck before looking down at you.

“I…well…Mikasa told me to stay away from you too…and I did leave the party before with her..but only for a little and that’s when I realized her intentions…but I came right back to find you and talk to you after that” he said, searching your face for a hint of how you were feeling. Your expression was blank, eyes were now dried and void of emotion. You jumped off the table and started putting your pants on. Eren started to grow worried as you neared the door.

“Y/n? Where do you think you’re going?”

“To find Mikasa”

#bunnys rager #eren x you #eren smut #attack on titan eren #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #jean kirschstein #eren jaeger

246 notes · View notes

kashi-prompts · 3 years

Text

Prompt: Above (but slightly altered)

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader (POV alternates between them)

Wordcount: 4,963

Rating: M

Trigger Warning: Graphic depictions of domestic violence, implied/suggested rape, and violence

A/N: Ok, so I got carried away with this one. This prompt has been in my head for a long time, and I didn’t know where I wanted to go with it. But if you’re a little emo millennial like I am, you’ll remember the song “Face Down” by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus that came out in like, 2010 or something. I listened to this song over and over again one day while I was driving and this idea came to my head. Please abide by the trigger warnings, as I feel this is pretty triggering. But I do hope those of you who enjoy the whole angsty vibe enjoy this.

And [y/f’s/n] = Your friends name

Prompt below the cut:

"Over here," the grip of his hand on your upper arm alerted you that you were moving through the crowd too quickly. He directed you back down the path he wanted to go. Hundreds of people lined the main street of Konoha in the culmination of the day's festival. You looked up, adjusting your kimono as you noted some teens arranging fireworks to be set off on the roof across from you.

"This is a festival to celebrate love and relationships," you reminded your husband, frowning as he continued away from the festival's main road. You pushed a piece of hair away from your face, the hot air causing it to stick to your forehead with sweat.

"What does it matter? We're already married, aren't we?" Aiko sighed, his irises pointing north in irritation. You noticed and agreed not to speak of it again.

"Hey, Jiro!" Aiko's demeanor changed instantly at the sight of his friends huddled around a table, sake being poured generously all around. Slapping his hand between the man's shoulder blades, you watched your husband smile for the first time that day.

Within moments, the lanterns in the streets were lit, and a glass of the fermented alcohol shoved haphazardly in your hand. The three men leaned against the table as you watched more people walk by, snippets of conversations passing you. You smiled dolefully as a young couple crossed the path before you, their enamored expressions radiating off their faces.

You wearily twisted your wedding band with your thumb.

Across the street, three men leisurely pitched themselves against the plank siding of Konoha's Dango shop. Despite the men lacking the commonly ordered shinobi uniform, one could still discern the nature of the three ninjas simply the way they displayed themselves. Although they were not on duty at the moment, their demeanor barely skimmed the surface of leisure.

"Oiy," one burly gentleman sighed, exasperated by his friend's lack of interest, "Kakashi, won't you put that book down? Just enjoy the evening."

The taller man shrugged, the tilt of his grey hair below the paper lantern above casting a shadow over his already partially covered face. He turned another page calmly, not looking up.

"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough for you both?" Kakashi responded, his thumb resting between the pages of his novel. A single dark eye glanced up at the two men.

"Just listen to Guy," the brown-haired man exhaled, gesturing to the enthusiastic friend between them. "It would be nice to have you present once in and while. Maybe you can find a girlfriend here instead of always relying on that stupid book of yours for pleasure."

Kakashi sighed heavily, scoffing at his friend and snapping the book shut in his palm, replacing it in the pocket of his kimono. Above them, the sudden popping sounds of fireworks shooting into the night sky filled the air.

"I love the energy here," the man named Guy proclaimed suddenly, turning to look at the teenagers on the roof above them set up another round of colorful bursting rockets. The man clenched his fists in enthusiasm, smiling broadly.

"I remember being that young," he said suddenly, "the rich life of youth!"

Kakashi folded his arms across his chest and slumped deeper against the building. He had waited for this festival to end hours ago, imagining the familiarity of his warm bed at home and the burning desire for his mind to rest in the comfort of the book in his pocket.

As the stream of citizens bustling down the dirt street finally divided, the silver-haired shinobi's eye settled on a woman across the street. Despite the clarity of her disquieted gaze, her appearance caught the shinobi's attention as his eye swiveled back to her.

For a moment, something within his mind was set ablaze. The silver-haired man tilted his chin, studying the woman as she nursed a small glass of the clear liquid in her hand. Her slender fingers tapped against the drink while her thumb nervously twisted at the silver band on her ring finger.

Behind his mask, he frowned slightly. She was taken, obviously. How could she not be? There was a grace to her that would be swept up by any man lucky enough to get close to her. Despite the obvious conclusion that he had made about her status, his eyes couldn't seem to leave her. The uneasy expression on her delicate features tugged at something within him.

"I'm going to go get us a drink," Tenzo clapped a hand to his thigh, leaning forward from the wall. "Sound good?"

Kakashi nodded, looking away from the woman as another pack of eager teenagers wandered between her and the men. Instead, he watched Yamato push his way to the bar across the street where she stood, offering three fingers to the bartender in request.

As Yamato waited, Kakashi observed the man at the table in front of the bar. A boisterous laugh echoed from the man's husky chest, slamming down an empty glass that once held a generous amount of sake.

"If I really wanted to, I could take on any of these shinobi," Kakashi heard the man say to his friend. "I don't need to know any of that ju-ju shit."

Beside him, Guy was oblivious to the entertainment unfolding before them. Kakashi managed to stifle a chuckle, looking away as the man began to roll up his sleeve to show off his beefy arm muscles. His single eye swiveled back to the woman, clearly embarrassed by the man's humiliating masquerade of virility beside her.

The connection was suddenly made clear to Kakashi.

"Hey, you!" the man yelled over the table, pointing to Yamato as he used an extra wooden hand to carry the three glasses back to his friends.

"You're a shinobi, aren't you?"

"Yes," Kakashi heard Yamato say, clearly unaware of the man's prior antics moments before, "Why?"

"C'mere for a second," the man chuckled, waving the shinobi over. The burly man's friends snickered around the table, turning around to observe Kakashi's friend. Kakashi stood straighter. Beside him, Guy did the same, also suddenly aware of the strange situation displaying before them.

A fist flew through the air without warning, and the sound of shattering glass filled the bar. Three glasses of sake spilled around their feet as Yamato's hand gripped the man's fist in front of his face agilely.

"Aiko, stop!" The woman Kakashi had noted minutes before cursed at her husband, her eyes wild with embarrassment and anger. "What is wrong with you?"

Yamato pushed back with one hand as Kakashi and Guy carefully made their way across the street to assist if needed. The man stumbled back, shaking his head in disgust.

"You men are useless," he spat at Yamato. Kakashi and Guy stood at Yamato's shoulder. "All you stupid fucks do is go out and use your little magic to bring war to our village. Just because people aren't inherently born with your stupid-"

"That's enough," Kakashi commanded suddenly, taking a step forward. His other lid slid open, the twirl of three tomoe in his glowing eye a jarring sight to the group of men. Aiko scoffed, brushing off the scarecrow's display of authority before sitting back down.

Kakashi turned, impervious to the man's words. As Guy opened his mouth beside him, Yamato quickly directed him away.

Making his way back through the crowd, Kakashi glanced over at the woman beside him, her expression a blend of humiliation and gratitude.

Clutching your drink, you stared at the silver-haired shinobi in front of you as he passed. The glow of his red eye eerie as he slowly closed his lid again. Did he know?

******

2 Months Later

The humidity in the air was stifling. The typical steady flow of children darting about in the streets seemed to have been reduced to merely a trickle of one or two Genin desperately trying to cool themselves with the gardening hose outside the Yamanaka Flower Shop.

The wait between missions was always a relatively appeasing time for the jounin leader. Although today, as he patrolled the streets with a book in his hand, he longed for a mission to a place with a cooler temperature than the sweltering climate he walked the streets in now. Drips of sweat cascaded down his spine, dampening his undershirt all the way to his vest.

"Oh!" was all Kakashi heard as he felt the weight of someone walk into him. The pages of his book flew through the air, minging with a bag of groceries that fell to the ground.

"I'm sorry!" he heard as he quickly assessed the situation. A messy lump of [y/h/c] knelt before him, picking up the groceries that had been scattered about the street.

"No need to be sorry," he told the woman quickly, kneeling beside her.

"I should have been looking where I was going," clearly flustered by the situation, she continued to grab her groceries and place them back in the bag.

"It's okay," he chuckled, glancing up at her. His chest tightened for a moment as he viewed the woman he had seen in the bar a few months prior. Her beauty remained, but the apparent cast of malaise had overtaken her. He blinked, taken aback by the situation that had suddenly unfolded before him.

"Are you okay?" He asked, lifting an arm to her shoulder, "did you hurt yourself?"

She evaded his touch, pulling away with her bag of groceries. He withdrew his gesture as she stood, clutching the bag to her chest. Looking down, he observed the wedding band still on her thinning finger. She looked ill, he thought. Or, at the very least, quite exhausted. Beneath his mask, his lips curved into a frown.

"I'm fine. I must be going," she told him quickly, brushing by him. It was now evident to the jounin how this large bag of groceries had obscured this woman's view enough to run into him in the first place.

"Let me at least help you carry your bag," Kakashi offered, taking a step towards her.

"No!" she told him quickly, pulling the paper bag away from his grasp. "I'm fine, thank you."

As she turned the arm grasping the bag away from him, his single eye glanced down at a deep-set bruise on her upper arm. The clear markings of four fingers having once gripped the skin caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. He opened his mouth, attempting to frame a sentence of carefully composed words to her, but only a pause came from his lips.

Without another word, the woman turned from him and quickly began heading over the bridge to the other side of town. Her gait struck him as rather peculiar, almost as though she were trying to make up the time she had lost moments before. Looking down, he grabbed his book from the dusty street and shoved it in his pocket, uneasy from the interaction.

****

3 Months Later

Fall had arrived before you had even noticed the conclusion of the warmer days of the year. The lustrous canopies of trees that cocooned the village had shifted to autumn's mute yet vibrate colors. The crisp air of the night nipped at your cheeks as you walked at the ankles of your husband, keen to keep a distance yet knowledgeable enough not to fall behind.

Another festival had arrived, this one focused on family. The two of you were supposed to be a family, having been married over two years ago. Yet you didn't feel like that was the case. It was almost as though the moment you had said "I do" to Aiko, he had changed. He had wanted a maid, a mother, and a ragdoll in one package.

As the evening had progressed, you were sure he had learned his lesson from the previous spring festival. But once the arrival of his friends had commenced, you knew it would be similar. The gnawing, raw feeling in your stomach caused acid to flow freely into your mouth.

You remembered the last festival, the one where he had made a fool of himself in front of those shinobi men. He had scolded and ridiculed you for not supporting him at that moment. It was considerably evident that your husband was no match for a trained ninja of the Leaf. Yet, his disgust for the protectors of the village only grew more. You suspected it was rooted in jealousy.

Not realizing the extent of his burned complex that night, you had continued to go about the evening, unaware of what was to come. Once you had arrived home, it had been the first time the verbal abuse had turned physical. The memory of his grip flush against the curve of your neck, pinning you to the wall as he spat in your face, was as clear as it had been the night it happened. You could still hear his words, appalled that his wife had not supported him- maybe then he would have won. You could still feel the glass that had shattered and plunged into your skin as he threw you into the coffee table.

You took in a shaky breath, trying to calm your anxiety that rose within you. You prayed it wouldn't be that kind of night. You prayed it wouldn't be the type of evening where you were both his physical punching bag and his sex ragdoll. The apologies he whispered to you after as he held you down to "make love" to you caused your skin to crawl.

The abuse was blatant; there was no denying it. You couldn't say to yourself, "he loves me," because he did not. Yet, you couldn't find the strength or the dignity to leave. The more his words stung, the more you felt you deserved them.

As you traveled through the street, you looked around, watching families partake in the street vendor sweets and games provided to them. Your hand went to your stomach, the emptiness within it a sad reminder that you were still not a mother.

"What are you doing?" Aiko asked abruptly, his voice dripping with contempt and impatience. You turned your head, hurrying back over to him as you hadn't even realized you stopped walking.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

Later in the evening, the wind had picked up, and the festival lanterns waved in the breeze. Once again, the sake was flowing freely. It was setting up to be just as it had been that night in the spring. Your skin itched with anxiety. The wedding band on your finger was looser than before, falling to your knuckle as you sipped your drink nervously.

"I bet you could take him out," you heard Aiko's friend say to him. Your eyes widened, and you looked to the sky, a silent prayer for peace falling from your lips. The obsession with shinobi had only grown worse since the incident. As unbenounced ninja passed them on the street, spit would fly from your husband's mouth to their sandaled feet. Mortified, you would always look away.

But tonight, as you looked over at your husband in the bar, you realized the three men from that evening were behind him. The realization of what your husband and his friends were discussing hit you, and you quickly sucked down your alcohol to ease your distress.

That shinobi that had helped you in the street that one day was there as well—the same one with the dancing red eye that had looked at you at the spring festival.

Was he looking at you? You wondered, catching the gaze of his dark eye from across the room. You looked down at your empty drink, feeling a blush creep up your neck that didn't seem like it was from the sake.

He was handsome, you thought to yourself. You remembered the day you had bumped into him in the street, the way he had chucked at the way you apologized so profusely. When he had walked by you with that eye that night in the spring, it had felt like a real shock of electricity ran through your body.

A clamor of chairs brought you out of your daydream as you quickly looked up, startled by the sudden noise.

"Aiko!" you yelled, seeing your husband up against a wall with the forearm under his neck that belonged to the same shinobi he had tried to fight in the spring. This couldn't be happening, you thought.

The shinobi with a terribly styled bowl cut pulled your husband off of the young man, restraining him.

"What is your problem?" the brown-haired man shouted to Aiko, pushing him as the other held him in a headlock.

"Guy, Tenzo!" the silver-haired man stood between them, pulling the men apart.

A glob of spit flew through the air, hitting the man named Tenzo in the cheek. He gritted his teeth, angered as your husband looked at him in satisfaction.

"Fuck you," Aiko said, "and fuck your stupid job."

"Tenzo!" Kakashi forcefully shoved his comrade back as he lunged towards the man. "Enough! Guy, let's go!"

Embarrassment flooded you like no other. The overwhelming realization of what had just unfolded before you caused acid to erupt in your stomach. You put your glass down, running out of the bar and into the street. You didn't care if your husband couldn't find you - you didn't care about it at all. You were mortified, mortified to be around him, associated with him, to be married to him.

You pushed through the crowd, finding a dark alleyway at the end of the street where you could find solitude and rest for a moment. Tears streamed from your face as you slid your back down the side of a building. You held your face in your hands, unable to control the sob that erupted from your chest. You stayed there, clutching your knees to your chest as time ticked by.

You were angry with yourself. You were disgusted for having been stupid enough to get yourself in a situation with such a dreadful and disorderly man. This was your fault, you thought. Your responsibility for not seeing the signs, for not realizing who he was -

"Get up," you heard, interrupting your thoughts. Your body froze, unable to register the gravity of what was about to happen. You looked up, seeing the outline of your husband against the backlight of the street behind him.

"Please, Aiko, I'm just-"

"Get up!"

You stood to your feet, your knees shaking uncontrollably beneath you. There was nothing you could do now. You had to deal with whatever was going to be delt to you. The rational side of your brain knew it wasn't your fault he had made a fool of himself, yet his tainted reputation and burned-out dignity only enraged him more- and somehow, you felt responsible. You were his punching bag - his relief.

"Why did you leave?" he demanded, taking a step forward.

"I was feeling ill," you told him, standing your ground as you lifted your chin.

"You think you can leave?" he asked, his hot breath on your face. The stale smell of alcohol on his breath tickled your nose, causing nausea to churn in your stomach more.

"You think you're better than me? Do you think this is all a game? That these men are better than me?"

"I never-" the sudden grip of his hand on your jaw caught your tongue between your teeth, the taste of metal in your mouth quickly spreading.

"You disgust me," he seethed, the sweaty skin of his nose touching yours. Without hesitation, he threw your body to the side of the alley, slamming your head between the trashcans.

"Go ahead, get up," he urged you mockingly as his foot slammed into your stomach.

"Get up!" he yelled, watching you curl your body in pain on the concrete.

Aiko curled his hand into a fist, raising it above him as he leaned down. You braced your body for impact, knowing full well what was about to happen. Anger at yourself overwhelmed you.

The sound of trashcans being pushed to the side abruptly filled the air of the small alleyway. You felt one hit the top of your head, and you moved quickly, sitting up with wide eyes. Your husband's arm was twisted behind him, and his face pushed into the brick building behind you. Blood seeped from a cut on his forehead.

"You can't hit a real man, so you think you can hit a woman? You feel like a man now? Huh?"

The comprehension of what was happening hit you as you scrambled back from the scene. The silver-haired ninja with the red eye slammed your husband harder against the wall, using the firm grip on Aiko's wrist to move him as though he weighed nothing.

"Get off of me!" Aiko cried furiously, forcefully trying to free himself from the man's grip. You looked down, seeing the shinobi's forearm flex as he gripped your husband's wrist tighter.

"Break your arm," the shinobi urged mockingly, "that's the only way you'll get out of this."

Your husband thrust himself backward, wildly trying to free himself. Your eyes widened as you watched in one swift motion the shinobi pull Aiko to the ground, a fist landing firmly on his jawline. You closed your eyes, hearing the sounds of knuckles to flesh penetrate your mind. A mixture of anxiety and relief overwhelmed your senses.

When the noises had settled, you looked up, watching the shinobi's chest heave in and out as he caught his breath—blood coating his knuckles. Your hand went to your mouth, shaking. He turned to look at you, his red eye open and glowing in the darkness. You scrambled to your feet.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly, his expression turning from blind rage to concern. "Are you okay? You're bleeding."

You reached up, touching the trickle of blood that streamed down from your hairline as the adrenaline from the situation began to die in your system. You felt dizzy, whether from the situation or the injury, you weren't sure. But when you looked back up, the man's spinning red eye was closed again, and he stared at you with worry.

You looked to your beaten husband, his face puffy and red as he slumped against the wall, unconscious.

"Is-Is-" you tried, words failing you as your body shook uncontrollably.

"He's not dead," the shinobi told you quickly, "just unconscious. I just - I saw what he did to you and - he's the lowest scum on this earth."

His words fell silent as his chest still rose and fell with heavy breaths. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. The adrenaline and anxiety that had been building up in you peaked as your knees gave way below you. Your body fell to the ground as you let out a loud sob, one that had been accumulating within you for months. The overwhelming, unrelenting sense of fear that consumed you day in and day out had diminished, if only for a moment, right now.

"Hey," he called quickly, kneeling before you. His voice was calm. You felt his hand on your shoulder, gentle and assuring as you cried. "Hey, it's okay."

"This is my life," you felt the words tumble from your mouth, "this is how I live, day in and day out. These bruises are normal; this fear is normal."

His silver eyebrows turned up in grief as waves of emotions overtook your body. After a moment, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. This stranger, having saved you and comforted you in a dark alley in the middle of a festival. This stranger, who knew nothing of you, yet held you close to his beating chest as you clutched his kimono. You felt his hand on the back of your head, his skin sticky with your husband's blood.

"It's okay," you heard him say to you, his chin atop of your head, "It's okay. I'm not going to let him hurt you again. I promise."

*****

Spring had come again. The blossoming sakura leaves a staple as the annual festival celebrating love commenced in the streets once again. You walked by yourself through the crowd, the newfound strange sense of independence feeling like a breath of fresh air to your lungs. You looked around, observing the same throng of teenagers pass by, another year older.

You stopped, letting the dog at your side sniff a street pole. You smiled, leaning down to pet your brute of a hound. He looked up at you, wagging his tail at the affection you provided.

"Good boy, Megumi," you smiled, flipping his ears warmly. Megumi had been given to you by that ninja named Kakashi after you had returned from the hospital for the severe concussion you had received that night. You were unsure where he had gotten the pup from, but the dogs small, doting eyes staring back at you won you over instantly.

"He'll serve as a good sense of protection," Kakashi had told you, "and if you need any help training him, I'd be happy to help."

That had been the last time you had seen the man who had saved you. Although often, you were sure you had seen him pass by you in the streets, only to realize it was someone else. You wondered how he was doing.

Your husband had been promptly thrown into prison, collected on domestic abuse charges that were not tolerated within the village whatsoever. You slipped your bare ring finger through one of the loops of Megumi's chain. The divorce had been finalized last month.

"[y/n]," someone had called. You turned, seeing your friend, [y/f's/n] wave happily to you. You smiled as she handed you a cup of warmly brewed tea.

"How are you?" She asked brightly, "it's so nice to see you out. And how is little Megumi?"

She bent down to pet the dog's ample head—another tail wag.

"I'm good," you smiled. Your smile was genuine, your heart light. "Thank you. How are you?"

"Happy to see my friend!" the woman smiled, hugging your shoulders from the side. You beamed, laughing with your friend for what felt like the first time in years. Just as you turned your head, tittering off a laugh, your eye caught sight of a turf of silver hair in the sunlight. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you blinked.

"What is it?" your friend asked, her face falling.

"Nothing, it's just -" you tried but couldn't form the words. It had been seven months since you had seen Kakashi. The angle of the lantern's light catching his sharp features as he conversed with his two friends. Beside you, your friend traced your gaze to the man a few meters away.

"Is that-?" she trailed off, watching your face flush as your fingers tapped nervously against the cup of tea in your hand.

"You're blushing!" she pointed out, a playful finger pointed at your nose.

"I'm not," you waved a hand, "I'm just surprised to see him."

"Why don't you go talk to him?"

"Oh no, I couldn't," you shook your head, fidgeting with Megumi's leash.

"But he saved you! You should at least see how he's doing."

"He was just doing his job, [y/f's/n]," you sighed, rolling your eyes at your friend.

"No, it doesn't matter. You should go talk to him," she urged, pushing you towards him.

"[Y/f's/n]!" she pushed you through the crowd, children dispersing as your dog sniffed his way over to Kakashi's leg.

"Hey!" Kakashi chucked to the dog, a smile forming under his mask. His eyes traveled up the dog's chain to you as your friend's hands left your shoulders, disappearing into the crowd.

"[y/n]," Kakashi smiled in surprise, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he looked at you. "I didn't-"

"How are you?" you asked suddenly, feeling your face flush. Kakashi blinked his single eye, tracing your face with his gaze as if to memorize it. You were sure you looked healthier than the last time he had seen you.

"I'm good," he said finally, not realizing his friends disappearing behind him with snickering looks over their shoulder. "How are you?"

"Better," you smiled softly, holding Megumi's leash tightly as the dog sniffed at his feet. Kakashi leaned down to pet the dog, smiling as he patted the side of his chest.

"And I see Megumi is doing good too," he cooed at the hound.

"He is," you nodded, "thank you again."

"Not a problem," he leaned back up, catching your eye again. You looked away, your chest flushing. A few awkward beats passed between you as you watched a couple pass by, their hands intertwined as they strolled down the street.

"Would you- like to grab something to eat?" You heard him ask, his voice dripping with nervousness.

You turned back suddenly, your eyes snapping back to his. He smiled softly, lifting his eyebrows.

"They have some good food stands here this time of year," he commented, "but if you'd rather not or if you're with your frien-"

"Of course," you said quickly, "I would love to."

His eyes perked up at your acceptance, turning into two small crescent moons. He turned, waiting for you to follow. Your instinct told you to stay a foot behind him, but when he waited for you to step beside you, you realized he wanted you next to him.

"So, are you wishing for anything?" he trailed off as the two of you began walking, a smile on your face.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #Kakashi imagines #Kakashi Hatake #kakashi hatake imagines #kakashi fanfiction #trigger warning #domestic violence awareness

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