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hispipsqueak · 3 years

Text

Good Little Pet

Satan x F!Reader - NSFW

WC: 2.5K

TW: pet play, anal play, choking, master/pet dynamics, maid outfits, light degradation, unprotected sex

A/N: I’ve been on a huge Satan kick lately. I roast the hell out of him, but would I still die to be his kitten? You bet! Sorry I’ve been MIA for a bit. I have so many fics I’m working on, and not enough time in the day. Thank you for all the support friends. <3 I see your tags and they honestly make my entire life! Also I did proofread this, but I’ve also been staring at it for a week so plz don’t hate me if there’s typos! :D

All characters are 18+

The House of Lamentation had been unusually relaxed today. Most of the brothers were out, leaving only three home. Surprisingly the room was mostly silent as Levi had his headphones on as he played his game and even Mammon had been quiet, as he fiddled with his D.D.D.

Satan thumbed through a mystery novel as he sipped his tea. Though he usually preferred to read in his room, the ambience here was relaxed enough for once, that he could focus.

Until the door opened and Asmodeus walked in, dragging you behind him laughing. The two of you had been out shopping and the stack of boxes you held towered above you.

"Ah, Satan could you help me with this?" You asked, giggling about something Asmo had said. Sighing as he placed his bookmark, Satan reached over to help you with the boxes, revealing your smiling face and the cat-ear headband you had on top of your head.

"Satan, isn't MC adorable as a cute cat?! Nya for us MC!" Asmo asked. You rolled your eyes, but put your hand up in a paw shape, letting out a sweet "nya". Satan's eyes widened and he could feel heat rising into his cheeks. He quickly turned around.

"Uh, yes of course. I'll be going back to my room." He placed the boxes on the floor and hurried away as you and Asmo looked at each other confused.

Satan closed his door behind him and pressed his back to the wooden frame.

Satan often considered himself to be more level headed than most of his brothers, but he couldn't deny his attraction to you. Still, he showed less emotion outwardly than the rest of the brothers and he prided himself in that. However, seeing you in those cat ears, giving cute little meows as your eyes gazed up at him? Satan could feel his growing erection tenting his pants.

He had seen one of Levi's games a while back that featured a cat girl in a scantily clad maid outfit on the front cover. Now, he pictured you in the same outfit, cat ears atop your head, your skimpy dress leaving little to the imagination as you knelt in front of him, your lips parted waiting for your master's orders.

Fuck. He let out a shaky breath as the image of you bent over his desk, collared and begging for him to fuck you now entered his mind. His hand slid down to his throbbing cock, desperately wanting release.

A knock at the door interrupted him.

"Satan? You left your book and your tea. I brought it for you." Your voice called out, tentatively.

Shit. Satan looked around wildly. before sitting at his desk to hide his obvious arousal.

"Come in." He called out hoarsely, hoping you didn't notice the quiver in his voice.

You opened the door, still wearing those damned ears and looked concerningly at him.

"Are you feeling alright? You rushed out of there and your face is really red." You placed his things on the desk as you walked towards him, avoiding the precarious stacks of books around the room. He quickly grabbed a book from the top of a pile and placed it on his lap as you approached him.

"I'm fine, just got lost in thought." He lied. You raised an eyebrow but didn't press it. The pile of books next to him chose that moment to clatter to the ground and before he could react, you knelt down in front of him to pick up the fallen books.

He looked down at you and bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. You looked up at him innocently, identical to the naughty visions of you in his mind.

You placed a hand on his knee and he let out a low groan. Your eyes widened.

"Satan? I-"

"Come down for dinner!" Asmo's voice chirped out from outside the door. You stood up and turned.

"Do you want me to let them know you're not feeling well? I can bring you something back."

Satan nodded. He had to really take care of the very pressing issue at hand and knew he wouldn't be able to sit through an entire agonizing meal.

----

"Pass the salt, Asmo."

"I didn't hear a 'nya', MC." Asmo giggled, poking his tongue out at you. Your hand flew to your hair.

"I forgot I had these on!" You laughed.

"Let's hope Satan doesn't see those." Levi muttered.

You cocked your head. "What do you mean."

Levi's face flushed. "Uh...no reason, er, nothing!!!"

You narrowed your eyes at the reddening demon.

"Satan's obsession with cats doesn't stop at real cats. Didn't he get obsessed with that stupid cat girl game?" Belphie yawned, sliding his half-finished plate to Beel who dug in happily.

"You mean Neko Magic Maid♡. It wasn't even that good of a game!" Levi said, "It definitely wasn't as good as SuperStar Magic Maid…"

"Yeah. I don't think he was interested in the storyline." Mammon interjected, laughing.

Lucifer scolded the brothers for being crass but your mind wandered. Was that why Satan was acting so weird? After dinner, you headed to Levi's room.

"Hey Levi! I was wondering more about that game you were talking about? The catgirl one?"

Levi didn't even turn from his computer screen. "Yeah it's on that shelf. But if you really like the Magic Maid series you should start with Springtime Magic…AHHH HE'S RESPAWNED!" He yelled, ignoring you again for the game he was currently playing.

You grabbed the game and slipped out of his room quietly. Glancing at the cover you saw a cat girl dressed in a ridiculously short maid costume. Her ears and tail were perked up and she donned a black collar around her neck with a little bell and tag that read 'Master'.

You grinned as you headed to your room. This would be fun.

----

"Satan?"

"Come in."

Satan turned the page in his book. Thankfully after that disastrous night, you hadn't worn that headband again, though he'd be lying if he said the image from you that day hadn't been filling his mind as he jerked his cock each night.

He heard you step into the room, but you didn't say anything. Looking up, his jaw dropped.

You were dressed in a maid outfit somehow more revealing than the one from the game. Your breasts were practically popping out of the dress, and the short skirt barely covered your ass. He could see the slight bulge of your thighs over top of your sheer thigh-high socks and he had the urge to bite that spot over and over.

You had the cat ears on again and as you walked towards him, he could hear a jingling noise. Glancing at your neck he saw a simple black collar with his name on the tag and a silver bell.

"MC what are you doing?" He breathed out shakily. You placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing him into his desk chair.

"Taking care of you…Master." You knelt down on the floor and looked at him expectantly.

Satan blinked rapidly. He had to be dreaming.

"Can I please you, Master?" You asked. He nodded, at a loss for words, and you began to unbutton his pants, freeing his rapidly hardening cock. Your hands wrapped around it squeezing, and you slowly moved up and down. Satan let out a groan.

You moved closer, pressing your lips to the tip of his cockhead before lapping at the beads of precum from the slit. You slid his length into your warm, wet mouth and looked into his eyes, swirling your tongue around his cock. This elicited another grunt from the blonde demon.

As you bobbed up and down on his length, he rested his hand on your hair, gently pushing you deeper on his cock. You moaned around him and the vibrations made his heart race. He looked down at you, and noticed the tail that led to under your skirt.

The realization set a switch off in his brain. He bucked his hips, forcing more of his cock into your mouth.

"Ohhhh fuck. That's it kitten. You like choking on Master's cock?" He asked, his fingers gripping tightly to your hair. You could only gag around him as a response, and the noises you let out were absolutely sinful.

"Such a good little pet. Your throat is squeezing me so well, kitten. But you can go deeper, can't you? Don't you want to please your master?" He asked.

Frantically you nodded and forced even more of him down your throat, trying your best to breathe out of your nose. As you tried to pull back, his grip tightened, holding you firmly in place. Your eyes watered as you felt his cock throb in your throat and your vision blurred, from tears or lack of oxygen, you weren’t sure. He pulled back and you gasped for air, tear streaked face looking up at him. Satan panicked, apologies already forming in his head before you grinned and pulled him back into your mouth.

“Fuuuuck, such a good kitten. Addicted to master’s cock.” Satan groaned out, his eyes closing as you found your pace on his length. He could feel his release creeping up on him, a fiery feeling in the core of him as your mouth enveloped his cock. The room filled with soft pants and the jingling of the bell around your neck. He met your eyes as you continued to take him deeper. He wouldn’t last much longer if you kept like this.

“That’s it kitten, that’s it. You want master’s milk? Want your cute belly full of your master’s cum? Tell me, kitten.”

You whined around him, releasing his cock from your lips.

“Please master. Need to please you. Want your cum.” Your eyes were glassy with tears and drool dripped down the corners of your plump lips. Satan wished he could snap a picture of you looking so lewd.

“Good girl. Milk my cock kitten. Milk my fucking cock.” He gasped as you sped up around him, sloppier and more vigorously than before. Spit coated your chin and spilled onto his thighs as you wrapped your tongue around his cock.

“FUCK! Fuck, just like that!! Oh fuck, cumming!! Take it all, kitten. Fucking take it.” Satan wailed, his muscles tensing as he shot load after load down your throat. You struggled to swallow everything, with some dripping off your lips. Breathing hard, he scooped it with his finger, pushing it back into your mouth.

“Don’t waste a drop kitten.”

You sucked on his finger, a content smile on your face. He reached down, tugging your wrists and pulling you to your feet.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you kitten? Oh no...I want to explore every little bit of you.” He whispered, bending you over his desk. Flipping up your skirt he admired as the tail slid into your ass and gently tugged it, pulling a low moan from you.

“Such a naughty kitten. I can’t wait to fill all your holes with my seed.” He said, his hand palming your ass, before smacking you hard. You jolted forward with a soft whimper. He tugged at your tail again, chuckling as you squeezed your thighs together.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already squirming.” His fingers pressed against your drooling cunt. “Already this wet, just from a few tugs on your tail? What a slutty little pet you are.”

You moaned as he pressed his fingers into your cunt, the slick arousal easily letting him into you. He slowly pumped in and out of you as you attempted to grind against his palm, whining when he gripped your hips, stilling you.

“Look at you, kitten. Debasing yourself just to get off. How filthy.” His voice was sadistic and yet your body trembled with desire under his touch. Your brain was hazy with his fingers rhythmically plunging into you and all you wanted was for him to use you for his pleasure.

“Please Master. Please touch me.” You pleaded, squeezing your thighs together as he pulled his fingers out of you. He pushed you down on the desk, as he pressed his cockhead against your entrance.

“Beg.”

“Please fuck me master. Please let me cum around your cock. I need you so bad, sir – FUCK!”

Satan slammed his cock into you, causing you to cry out. His hand gripped your hip as he fucked himself deeper into you.

“Scream as loud as you want kitten, no one is going to hear you through the spells in this room. You’re clenching around me so deliciously, pet.” His fingertips bruised your skin and papers and books were knocked off the desk as he slammed into you over and over.

Your body shook and you felt so full with his cock in your pussy and the plug in your ass. You felt stretched to your limit and still he pressed on, fucking you until you saw stars.

“I can feel the pressure of your tail plug through your delicious cunt, kitten. Doesn’t it feel good to be so full? You’re such a lewd little kitten, aren’t you?” As he taunted you with his words, his fingers danced around your clit, causing your legs to feel like they were giving out. Relentless, he continued pounding into you as tears fell from your eyes.

“So, so full. So good, master! Your cock is so perfect, Master.” you babbled, your brain delirious with lust. The fire burning in your core was so overwhelming, your body ached for more and you needed him, needed your master to push you over that peak.

Satan growled, feeling his demon form activate. His tail wrapped itself around your neck, holding you in place as he wrecked you.

“Your lewd little pussy is fluttering around my cock, kitten. Are you going to cum for me? Are you going to cum for your master’s cock?” He panted out. He was close, apparent as his thrusts became harder and faster.

“Yes please Master. Let me cum on your cock!” You choked out, his tail tightening around your throat. Your eyes fluttered as you felt back arch.

“Cum for me, pet.”

That was all it took. You wailed as your cunt clenched around him, creaming around his cock. Your body convulsed and you felt dazed as you gushed around him.

“Fuck, kitten!” He groaned out. His hand slammed you down as he unloaded into you. He was so deep, you could practically feel his cum in your belly as he shot ropes of his hot seed into your body over and over. After what felt like a lifetime, he slowly slid out of you.

Picking you up he delicately placed you on his bed, wiping aways the traces of cum that dripped onto your thighs. He gently worked your tail plug out and placed it on the desk before covering you with his sheets.

“You did so good for me, kitten.” He whispered into your skin. Your eyes were too heavy to open, so you just smiled sleepily and curled into his chest. Running his hand through your hair, he undid the cat ear clips and placed them on his nightstand before succumbing to exhaustion, his whispered words barely audible.

“Good little pet.”

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me smut #obey me shall we date #satan x mc #satan x y/n #satan smut #omswd

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shoutaaizawas · 4 years

Note

one month anniversary event? hUH can i join?? if it’s no hassle: could i request bakugou in hunger games au! with the prompt “Whatever you do, don’t open your eyes.”? i would love to see what you do, thank you in advance 🥺💞 i love your work, binge worthy 100%. please take care! :)

im so sorry this took FOREVER ilysm your comments give me life thank you for all your support

↳ bakugou katsuki x reader → no final goodbyes

event: au prompts summary: you and bakugou are childhood enemies. when you’re picked for the annual hunger games you’re shocked when he volunteers. word count: 6,599 tags/warnings: hunger games!au, angst, like really angsty 😳, violence, blood mention, character death a/n: uhhhh i’m sorry also there was so much i wanted to put but i had to stop myself or this would have been a whole novel alternate ending

You hated Bakugou Katsuki. You had since you were kids. You grew up in District Seven next door to the Bakugou household. Ever since you could remember you were arguing with Bakugou. Your parents would laugh and say it was normal if he got on your nerves so much maybe it was because you had a crush on him.

The thought had always disgusted you. Sure, as you both got older Bakugou certainly got quite attractive and filled out. He went from a scrawny kid to a man in what felt like overnight, it was hard not to notice his muscles.

You recalled one day you were trying to nap but the repeated sound of banging outside kept waking you. You stormed outside to yell at him but you were not expecting the sight of him shirtless and swinging an ax down onto firewood. Your throat felt like it was drying up and you turned around before he caught you.

When had he gotten attractive? It didn’t matter, he was still the same unbearable Bakugou you had known since you were born. Looks couldn't make up for that personality.

Despite your distaste for each other, Bakugou’s mother insisted he walk with you to school to watch over you. You would complain and say that it was unnecessary but your mother would scold you for being rude and tell you to just accept it.

Some days you’d walk to and from school in silence. Others you would trade insults the whole way earning looks from people you passed.

“They’re picking tributes soon.” You said. It was rare for you to start a normal conversation but the Hunger Games were fast approaching and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. “We’re eighteen now, it’s our last one. It looks like we might make it out.” You said with a dry laugh.

“What are you scared or something?” He replied.

“What? No, I mean what are the chances of getting picked?” You said with a shrug. “You’re probably the one that's scared.” You bit back. So much for having a normal conversation with him.

Time flew by and it was finally the day of the Reaping.

If you thought it was silent before on your walks with Bakugou it was even worse today. Despite the fact you both pretended like you weren’t scared, you were terrified and you knew even Bakugou was nervous.

If he was chosen at least he would stand a chance. He was strong and she had seen how he fought others at school in the past. If it was between him and a trained district kid you’d bet on him every time.

You, on the other hand, you never had held a weapon in your life. You weren’t very strong and not very fast. Your chances were overall bad.

Bakugou stopped as you approached the place where you would go your separate ways.

“Our last one, after this we don’t have to worry.” You said forcing a smile.

“Whatever.” He scoffed before turning to walk to the boy's side.

“I was trying to be nice for once.” You complained. “Screw you, I hope you get picked.”

You might hate Bakugou but you didn’t mean it. In fact, the thought of him getting picked made you feel things you couldn’t explain. After this was over you’d walk home and complain about the boring life you’d have in District Seven and bask in the relief of knowing that you would be safe.

As the escort of District Seven stood on the stage you stood in the crowd tapping your foot. This would be over soon and you could go home and never worry about this again.

“Ladies first.” The woman said fluttering to the left side and drawing from the pool of names there. She opened the paper and announced the name.

Heads turned but one set of eyes burned into you more than others. You couldn’t breathe. You were suffocating, drowning, frozen to the ground. You turned to look at Bakugou from across the crowd. Staring at him, helpless with tears in your eyes. You didn’t know why he was the first person you sought out.

“Come on, dear. Don’t be shy!” The woman said waving you up to the stage.

Taking shaky steps you walked through everyone to the stairs. Standing up there was surreal. It felt like a nightmare. Your eyes stayed on Bakugou’s red ones, how odd you looked to him for comfort in the worst time of your life. You supposed this would be the last time you’d look into those familiar eyes. Why did that make you so sad?

The woman moved to the boy's side and pulled a name but you could hardly pay attention. You snapped out of your fog when you heard a familiar voice.

“I volunteer!” Your eyes snapped to the ash-blond you had known your whole life. What was he thinking?

Bakugou walked to the stage and you stared in disbelief. What was going on?

It was a blur, you were ushered into a room with your parents. They were sobbing, hugging you, holding you like it’d be the last time. Well, it would be the last time, you supposed.

You were led to a train, the inside was decorated far nicer than most things in your district. You sat there feeling numb. It was overwhelming enough being picked but you were trying to wrap your head around Bakugou. Why would he volunteer? None of you ever wanted to be picked. This wasn’t District One where people trained for it.

Bakugou entered and stared at you blankly. You don’t know what happened but something snapped in you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You screamed, lunging for him. The escort for your district was quick to make her way to the other side of the train car to avoid the commotion. “Why would you volunteer? Do you have some death wish!?”

You grabbed at his shirt, hitting his chest but he stood still and unmoving not saying a word.

“What about your parents? What about your future? You’re throwing it all away!! It’s bad enough I got picked I didn’t have a choice.” Tears ran down your face uncontrollably. “You had a choice! You had a choice!”

A man you hadn’t seen before pulled you off of Bakugou, leading you to one of the rooms on the train.

“Cool off here for a while.” The man with long black hair said. “It’s a lot to take in. Take your time processing it.”

With that, he closed the door. You laid on the bed, your throat raw from screaming. It didn’t take long for your tears to come. You sobbed and sobbed, curled up on the bed. Why did this happen?

By the time you woke up you hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep. You felt so exhausted. It was still hard to understand everything that had happened. How did you get picked, why could Bakugou volunteer?

You avoided him, not wanting to see him. Every time you thought about him it stirred a rage in you that you didn’t quite understand.

The man that had pulled you off of Bakugou introduced himself as Aizawa Shouta, he was a previous winner from your district. Even though he had won you could see the damage that it left on him. That scared you, even people who won looked miserable.

Aizawa explained that he was to mentor you both and help as much as he could to prepare you for the games. It still didn’t feel real as he explained it all.

Before you knew it you were in the capital, a place you never expected to see. It was big and fancy, far more developed than your district. You followed alongside Aizawa, Bakugou on his other side. You didn’t want to look at him but you still felt the urge to sneak glances at him. When you did his eyes were on you, once you realized that you would look away quickly as if you hadn't been looking in the first place.

The building you were to stay in until the games began were modern and high tech. You stayed in your room, even when you were told dinner was ready. You wanted to be alone, more than that you didn’t want to be around Bakugou.

A knock on the door caught your attention. You cautiously opened it to see Aizawa there with a plate of food. He handed you the plate and you let him in.

“Why won’t you come out for dinner?” He asked.

“I don’t want to see him.” You said, taking a bite of the food even though you didn’t have an appetite. The food was of better quality than anything your family could ever afford. Did they feel better if they spoiled the children before sending them to their deaths?

“He volunteered.” He said the way he said it implied that he knew something that you didn’t.

“Yeah, and that was stupid.” You said. “Why would he choose a death sentence.”

“Things aren’t always that simple.” He said.

You stared at him, trying to comprehend what that meant. What valid motivation could he have?

“I’ll let you get some rest but you have training tomorrow.” He said.

“Training?” You questioned.

“Yeah, you'll have time to train for the games. You should pick something to impress the judges so they’ll give you a good rating.” He said. “If you get a good rating people will support you, send you stuff to help during the game.”

“Oh.” You said. You had seen some of it on TV but you always tried to avoid watching most of it. It made you sick to see children sent off to their deaths. You had seen people you grew up with sent to the games. You supposed you’d have to do the interviews too. How were you supposed to pretend to be some charming person when you were just a lamb for the slaughter?

Days went on and you trained from morning to night, you weren’t strong but you tried to practice with some weapons. An ax felt familiar you used it to chop wood before. It felt pointless, even if you could use it well enough you knew you didn’t have it in you to kill someone. You had no chance.

You spent a lot of time studying the plants, it interested you even if it would only help you so much. There were a lot of plants that were good for healing and some were even dangerous.

Reading a book on herbology, you sat far away from the other tributes who were sparring and throwing weapons at targets. It was hard to focus knowing that you’d be their target in a few days.

“Why are you wasting your time with that?” A familiar voice said behind you.

“It’s none of your business.” You spat back at Bakugou.

“Plants aren’t going to keep you from getting a knife in your back.”

“Why are you even here? How stupid are you to volunteer?”

“I’m going to win. I win at everything I do.” He said.

You stared at him in disbelief. You knew that Bakugou strives to beat everyone in his way but he never expressed that in regards to the Hunger Games. He always acted the way you did and how most did. They were disgusting and you wanted to avoid them as much as possible.

You turned your attention away from him, you couldn’t deal with him. You didn’t have long before the games would begin. You had to focus on what you were doing for the judges, not that it mattered. You knew you couldn’t compare to the others. You didn’t have much of a chance.

For the judges you displayed your knowledge of plants, it wouldn’t get you a great score but it was better than doing nothing. They seemed barely interested so you didn’t expect much.

Sitting on the couch of the apartment you were staying at with Bakugou and Aizawa you weren’t shocked to see yourself get a four. You heard a scoff from Bakugou and you sent him a dirty look. You were shocked to see Bakugou get a twelve. You knew that he was strong and his willpower alone was enough to make him the best at everything he did but it still left you wondering just what he did to get that score.

Time passed quickly and before you knew it the interviews were up. It was the last big event before the games would begin. That made your stomach churn. It wouldn’t be long until you’d be in an arena and everyone there would want you dead. There hadn’t been a day since you arrived in the capital that you weren’t stuck in your head dreading what would come. It was almost impossible to sleep and even harder to stomach anything.

Your stylist had picked a deep forest green dress for you. It was elaborate and stunning. Staring at it on the mannequin, the dress reminded you of home. The forests that were damp and earthy that always felt right to be in. The hearth in your family’s home that kept you warm on the cold nights. The stews that your mother made that you loved so much. The rain against your window at night while you read your favorite book. The boy next door that no matter how much you fought with him there was a sense of comfort being at his side.

Everything that you would never see again. Tears streamed down your face and you pretended they weren’t there as you were helped into the dress.

Your interview was first. Your entrance was standard, the questions not very exciting. It was easy to feel that the crowd wasn’t very interested in you. How could you capture their interest? You knew you were just another face, just a background character in someone else's story.

Bakugou was after you, the noise of the host and him talking was in the background as you walked with Aizawa out of the backstage area.

“You volunteered and you from District Seven, that’s very rare. What could possibly make you do something like that.” The host questioned. You scoffed, you already knew his answer. ‘Because I’ll win.’ You could hear it perfectly in his voice.

“Because the girl I love was chosen.” He said. You must have misheard that. You turned to look at the screen and saw him sitting on the couch on stage looking far more dressed up than you had ever seen him in your life.

“The girl you love, and by that do you mean your district partner?” The host asked excitedly looking at the crowd as if they hadn’t heard.

“Yes, we grew up with each other. I lived next door to her, we spent everyday walking to and from school. No matter how much we teased each other or pretended we didn’t like each other I always cared about her. When I heard her name called I knew that I couldn’t watch her do this alone. I volunteered so I can protector her, and make sure she gets to make it home.” He said.

“Wow, what an amazing story. Doesn’t it tug on your heartstrings? We all wish you luck in the games.” The host said as Bakugou was ushered away.

Numbness was all you felt. His words rang in your head. Aizawa looked at you with a concerned expression.

How could he lie like that? Just so he would have the viewers on his side? Just so he would have more sponsors in the game feeling sympathy for his sob story.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You started as Bakugou walked down the hall towards you. He gave you a blank stare. “I know you couldn’t care less about me but did you really have to involve me in your story to manipulate the viewers?”

Bakugou stared at you before moving past without a word. You had expected him to yell at you or argue that it only made sense to use every advantage you could get but his silence was unsettling.

It was a blur. It was the day of the games. You stood in a cold room staring at the elevator that would lift you into the arena. This was it. It probably wouldn’t be long until you were dead. Taking a deep breath you took in the clothing you were provided. The heavy coat was large and made you feel too warm in this small room. From what you could gather it was going to be cold in the arena. At least you were used to snow. The best thing you had going for you was your survival skills if you could get away from the blood bath without dying.

Aizawa was there to give you your last bits of advice. The biggest being to avoid the cornucopia, it was always guaranteed to be a blood bath where only the strongest came out on top. Aizawa advised you to take what minor supplies you could get and hide away from others until necessary.

There was a far off look in his eyes. It was easy to tell that he was trying to distance himself emotionally. No doubt it was hard to get to know two kids every year only to watch them die horrifically.

“Thank you for everything.” You said softly.

“Goodbye.” He said giving you a sad smile.

A timer had begun counting down as you entered the elevator. Pressing your eyes closed you took a deep breath. A part of you considered if going for the cornucopia would be the best way to end things quickly. You shook your head. You owed it to your family, to yourself to at least try even if it was only delaying the inevitable.

The elevator started to move and an opening appeared at the ceiling. Cold air flooded the space and you were glad you were dressed the way you were. As you entered the arena you took in your surroundings. At least two feet of snow blanketed everything in sight. Most of the space around was open but in the distance, there was a forest. Mountains and cliff sides lingered in the distance.

The cornucopia sat not far away, surrounded by different items. It was tempting but it was a setup. You glanced towards the forest, it would be the best option. The cover of the trees would help you hide away from the others.

Looking around the others surrounding you, you recognized them all. You knew which ones you should be careful of. Your eyes met Bakugou’s and your stomach dropped. Once you ran away would you ever see him again? Your last words to him hadn’t been kind. Would he win? Or would he be killed by another tribute? What would he do if it was only the both of you remaining? Would he kill you? You knew you could never hurt him.

The clock ticked and with each sound, your heart beat faster and faster.

Run. Just run. Don’t look back.

The clock hit zero and chaos broke out. You fled for the trees not sparing a look back. The snow was deep and hard to move through, thankfully you were used to the snow. You weren’t expecting to find a backpack in the snow. You grabbed it without stopping as you ran to the trees.

Once you were in the tree line you felt some relief but you knew others would have the same idea so you continued not slowing your pace. You ran and ran until you couldn’t go anymore. You spotted a tree with strong looking branches and figured it was a decent place to hide for now.

Climbing the tree you were able to get comfortable as possible so you could look through the backpack. In it were some supplies, rations, water, rope, and a few other things.

The biggest concern for survival would be cold. It was cold now and it would only get worse. Your clothing would keep you warm but it might not be enough. You waited, carefully listening to the forest and its sounds. Eventually, nightfall came and the canons went off announcing the number of deaths that had occurred for the day. Fifteen in total. More than half gone already. She wondered if they thought they could survive the cornucopia or if they had gone to it in hopes of ending things quickly. When you didn’t see Bakugou’s face among them you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

As much as you knew you needed to you couldn’t sleep. You knew the danger you were in. As the temperature dropped you wished you could make a fire but you knew it was too risky to do so.

Morning came and you wanted to hunt today, you had the rations from the backpack but you wanted to keep them as a backup if you couldn’t get food. The skill wasn’t unfamiliar, you had done it before just not with these tools. There was a hatchet in the backpack, it wasn’t normally used to hunt but you could make it work.

You had been able to kill a rabbit, making a small fire to cook it before putting it out and moving on. As night fell you made your way into another tree for the night. You accidentally fell asleep a few times throughout the night before startling awake.

Days passed and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt any warmth. Tributes died day by day, none of them were Bakugou. That was a relief and it made you nervous at the same time. You didn’t want to face him.

The landscape before you was beautiful, you had scaled one of the smaller parts of the mountain. It was risky but if you got higher up you hoped it would deter other tributes from finding you. Green pine trees covered the ground as far as you could see. It reminded you of home. You pushed that thought out of your mind before it brought you any more sorrow.

As you moved through some of the dense trees on the mountain you weren’t expecting to come upon the edge of a cliff. You stumbled, pulling back so that you wouldn’t fall but it was too late. Your gravity was off and there was no way to stop yourself now. You reached out hopelessly to catch anything to stop yourself from falling. What you weren’t expecting was for someone’s hand to grasp yours. You were pulled back to safety as you came face to face with Bakugou.

“Idiot, watch where you’re going!” He said staring at you with an angry expression.

“Bakugou?” You said in confusion, why was he here? Had he been following you. “You know it’s not a great tactic to save your enemies from dying. Kind of losing out on a free loss.”

“I don’t want to win the loser’s way.” He grunted before letting go of you, you nearly fell to the ground.

“Really, why are you here?” You questioned.

“Because it’s a good place to be, if you’re the first one in these mountains you’ll have the high ground.” He answered. “We might as well as team up since we’re both here. The others have made alliances.”

“I’m not really helpful for an alliance, you should know that.” You said, sitting down on the ground to get your breath back. Your heart was still pounding from the adrenaline.

“Better than nothing.” He said before sitting down next to you.

The silence was odd. In a way it was so similar to all the times you walked to school in silence, forgoing the usual trade of insults. But it was different all at the same time. You weren’t going about your normal day, you were in the middle of an even that would leave one if not both of you dead.

“I still don’t get why you volunteered. Even if you win it’s not worth it.” You said to him. Even if you received money and everything else they gave was it worth the risk? Was it worth the trauma you’d be left with?

“You don’t have to understand.” He said. That left you with more questions than answers but you didn’t push further.

Taking the day you made your way into the mountains more, as night fell you stopped to make camp. You were unsure about making a fire but Bakugou didn’t seem too concerned.

“Here.” He said throwing a sleeping bag at you. You had noticed the good-sized backpack he had on when you met earlier. You wondered if he had managed to get anything from the cornucopia but you didn’t ask. Were any of the people that were killed on the first day killed by him? It was hard to imagine him taking someone's life.

“Thank you.” You said. You were thankful for the sleeping bag, it would be a lot better than the trees you had stayed in all night.

“I’ll take first watch.” He said. You wanted to argue but you were so tired from the lack of sleep that you gave in.

It was odd the sense of safety you had with Bakugou. A part of you said that he could slit your throat while you slept but you knew deep down he wouldn’t. If he was going to kill you he would be straight forward about it. You fell asleep without hesitation.

You returned to consciousness quickly, the sensation of someone’s hand pressed against your mouth. Your eyes opened up and you realized that it wasn’t Bakugou but another tribute. You tried to scream but it was muffled. Moving for your hatchet you realized that they had you fully pinned down. Tears burned in your eyes as you stared up at them.

“Get off of her!” You heard Bakugou yell. You wondered where he had been.

“Why would I do that?” The guy said, you felt the cold steel of a blade press against your neck and you let out a whimper.

“Whatever you do, don’t open your eyes,” Bakugou said and you knew he was talking to you. Without thinking you listened.

With a yelp of pain, the guy tumbled off of you, and a weight was lifted from your chest both literally and figuratively. There was a noise of a commotion, rustling, and grunts of pain before everything went silent. A moment passed and the sound of a canon rang out in the arena.

“Just wait here, don’t look.” He said. You knew what had happened but it was hard to believe. There was more sound, footsteps, the sound of something being dragged before more footsteps. “Okay.”

Opening your eyes you could see Bakugou in the moonlight, standing over you. What stood out was the blood that covered his hands and his jacket, barely reflecting in the glow.

“T-Thank you.” You stuttered out, still scared. You knew that you would die here but coming face to face with death was worse than you imagined. “I-I” You started but tears ran down your face.

The last thing you expected was for him to kneel and take you in his arms. Your first reaction was to stiffen, was he going to kill you? When you felt him gently place you head against his chest you realized he was hugging you. As much as you wanted to push him away or argue you felt so vulnerable after what happened. You slowly wrapped your arms around him before letting loose more tears.

“You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.” He said. You had only seen this side of him once before.

When you were young you had been in the forest behind your houses, playing like you did often. It had been an accident, you weren’t looking. You jumped off a rock into a pile of leaves, playing in them. What you didn’t expect was there to be a bear trap.

The pain was so bad you had nearly blacked out. You remembered how panicked he was, rushing to your side. He disarmed the trap faster than you expected and before you knew it he was carrying you home.

The memories of it were vague from the pain and time but what stuck in your head was the soft voice he used reassuring you everything was going to be alright and the tears that welled up in his eyes.

By the time you woke up in bed bandaged up Bakugou was back to his normal self, no hint of the teary-eyed boy you had seen. A part of you always wondered if that had been your imagination trying to soothe you through the traumatic moment.

The softness Bakugou showed you know made it clear that your memory had not been incorrect. Hands gripping into his jacket he held you until your tears stopped and the sun slowly rose in the sky.

He explained that he had heard a noise and went off to look for the source and when he returned the other tribute had been on you. He didn’t apologize but you could hear the guilt in his voice. These events had just furthered your confusion about everything.

Once there was enough light you ate some rations before packing up and heading further up the mountain. Your travel was silent for the most part but every once and a while you would talk.

The number of tributes was getting lower every day. Not counting you and Bakugou there were three others left. Honestly, you hadn’t expected to make it this long. You wouldn’t have made it this long if it wasn’t for Bakugou saving you last night.

“What are you going to do if it gets down to just the two of us?” You asked, your breath appearing in the cold air.

“Why are you asking such a stupid question?” He grunted back at you.

“I think it’s a fair question.” You said. Did his avoidance of it mean that it was obvious he would kill you?

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I think the quickly approaching reality is something I should worry about.” You returned. “Unless you think I’ll die before then.”

“You might with how clumsy you are, idiot.” He said, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes scanned the snowy trail.

“Even on death’s door, you’re going to give me that attitude?” You said annoyed. “Bakugou Katsuki, you are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met.”

The sound of a canon went off stopping your conversation. Just a second later another one went off. You took a shaky breath. There was only one other tribute left.

Looking over at Bakugou you caught his gaze, you didn’t miss the nervous look in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“One left.” You whispered to yourself.

That night you set up a small camp in the mouth of a cave. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat anything, the nerves were too much. It was almost over, how had you made it into the top three? Would the last tribute kill you both? Or would Bakugou kill the last tribute? Then what?

It came crashing down on you even harder than it had before. Someone had to die. You and Bakugou wouldn’t make it out together, there was only ever one winner. Tears streamed down your face before you recognized them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been a constant in your life, a constant you always thought that you hated but sitting here confronting the idea of him dying tore you apart. You cared about him more than you would ever like to admit. Even if you argued more than anything else Bakugou always looked after you. If someone was mean to you at school he would scare them off, if you got hurt he would patch you up even if he did make fun of you the whole time, he was always there for you no matter what.

Why had life decided to be so unfair to you?

A day passed and you hiked further into the mountains, there had been no sign of the other tribute. That made you nervous, you knew that the game maker wanted a show and if he didn’t get one the would do what they thought would make things interesting and it wouldn’t be good for you.

Passing through a dense forest you felt on edge. You knew something bad would happen but you didn’t know what exactly it would be. You felt like something was watching like you were being hunted. Glancing at Bakugou you knew he was on edge too.

A crack of thunder rang out. You knew with how suddenly it hit it wasn’t natural. Suddenly rain poured down, with how cold it was you knew it would be bad if you got soaked.

“We need to find cover,” Bakugou said looking to you.

The two of you picked up your pace into a run, searching for anything that would work. You spotted a cave opening, it was dangerous to be in a confined space but you would only be in more danger out here. The storm hit harder and harder with every passing moment. Lightning striking nearby and thunder rumbled the ground around you.

You tripped, landing on your knees. Bakugou pulled you up by the back of your jacket and back onto your feet. This time he took your hand into yours pulling you along.

Finally, you reached the cave, the shelter from the storm providing some relief. You looked at Bakugou and without saying anything you both knew this was a trap. Opening your backpack you pulled out the flashlight that was in there. Turning it on you were able to see your surroundings better.

“Let’s go in further,” Bakugou said looking around. “Be careful, we don’t know if they’re in here or if they’ll be behind us.”

The cave wasn’t spacious but the tunnel you followed went deeper in. It was eerily silent, the only sound was from the storm outside. You don’t know how long it took but eventually, it opened up to a large cavern. There was an opening in the ceiling of the cave letting in icy cold air and the rain that poured down but overall it was enough to cover from the storm.

“It’s a dead end.” You said looking around.

“So we wait.” He said.

Bakugou paced the cavern, walking around different parts of it surveying the space.

It happens quickly, you hear a noise and suddenly Bakugou is on the ground under the last tribute. A knife is at his throat as he struggles to hold it back. Fear grips you at the sudden occurrence.

For a moment you’re frozen, your body won’t move even if your head is screaming at you to help. You finally break free and rush forward, you tackle the tribute off of Bakugou and onto the ground of the cavern.

It’s messy, you struggle and fight but the tribute is far stronger than you and easily throws you off before regaining his balance and attacking.

Bakugou watches in horror as the tribute overtakes you. He moves forward, knife in hand this time. He blocks out the reality of what he has to do, driving the blade down into his back repeatedly. He pulls him off of you, throwing him to the side.

As the canon goes off he blocks out the fact that it’s just the two of you left. He knows what he has to do but he can’t bring himself to think about it yet. He wants to enjoy the last moments of peace.

“Katsuki.” You say but your voice is ragged. He’s taken aback at the use of his first name. “Don’t look.”

His stomach drops as he realizes the blood soaking through your coat isn’t the tribute's. He panics, dropping to his knees beside you tearing open your coat trying to find the wound.

“No, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” He said pressing against the wound trying to stop the bleeding.

“You’re going to win just like you wanted.” You replied.

“You idiot!” He yells. “I didn’t volunteer to win, I did it to protect you!”

He watches your face fall at the realization.

“You-”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you going through this alone, if you died I would never forgive myself for not being there. I volunteered to make sure that you would make it out alive!”

“Why?” Your voice was breathless, eyes tearing up.

“Because I love you, idiot!” He yelled. “How stupid are you?”

“Katsuki, I-” You started, your breathes heavily as you tried to speak. “I-” You tried to speak but your eyelids fell closed, consciousness fading.

“No! I’m not gonna lose you. You can’t die, I did this to keep you safe!” He screamed. “I did this to protect you! Why did you try to help me! I was supposed to die for you!”

Tears ran down his face as he screamed out. A canon went off and it felt like he had been stabbed. He collapsed into you, sobbing into your stomach.

The games came to a close. They retrieved Bakugou but he fought tooth and nail to keep the peacekeepers away that tried to take him away from your body. The only option they were left with was to sedate him.

Once Bakugou woke up they tried to explain to him that he would have to do an interview at the capitol as well as make appearances in all of the districts. Their words fell on deaf ears as he refused to listen to anyone, trying to attack anyone who got close enough. They finally decided to send Aizawa in.

“Bakugou, you need to be reasonable.” He said. “If you don’t listen they will kill you and tell everyone that it was from your injuries in the games.”

“I have nothing to live for, the only reason I did any of this was to make sure she won and I failed and now I have to live with that.” He spits back.

“I know,” Aizawa said solemnly. “I’m sorry, I know you did everything to protect her.”

“If they want to kill me then let them.”

“Please, at least let me see if they will let you go home without any media. We can say that you got sick from something in the arena and had to be sent home.”

Bakugou didn’t reply but Aizawa took that as a yes.

Stepping into the empty house Bakugou felt numb. Aizawa had managed to get him home without any more disturbance. The capital was in an upset without the media the thrived off of after the Games. Many people were looking forward to the tearful remembrance of you. The capitol had been enthralled by the love story between you and Bakugou.

What was the point anymore? Looking out the window to the yard, it was rainy and foggy. He couldn’t bring himself to care about anything. He hadn’t even seen his parents since he got back to District Seven.

It haunted him, watching you die. Your stuttered last words cut off by your last breath. Did you love him back? It was something he would never have an answer to and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life.

alternate ending

taglist: @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh @x0doodlebug0x @katsuhoee

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #my writing #bakugou katsuki #angst #bakugousidehoe

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ibelongtonegan · 4 years

Text

Triple Play (Negan/Reader/Simon one-shot)

This fic was originally intended to be my entry for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash’s birthday challenge ages ago, but then life and a moody muse turned it into a forever WIP. And yet I just could not get story idea out of my head and did not stop until it was completed.

My prompt was “Technology – Walkie Talkies”.

Summary: some secrets are better left untold…or are they?

Characters: Negan x Reader x Simon

Word count: 5,616

Warnings: angst, dirty talk, smut, swearing

Tags (tagging my forevers and those who expressed interest in this fic at some point): @negans-network, @i-am-negan-trash, @emoryhemsworth, @ridingmoxley, @ladysyn, @sleepylunarwolf, @letsby, @tatertotandcassie, @annablack1102, @genevievedarcygranger, @daisysouthmoore, @hughxjackman, @ofxallxwexlost, @negans-wife

I appreciate feedback and most days don’t bite. So don’t be shy to comment, message or ask me anything!

“Okay, Y/N, your turn. Dwight, Negan, Simon,” Laura chirped, her voice hissing with static.

Your lips curled up into a wide grin as you raised the radio to your mouth.

“Fuck Negan, marry Simon, kill Dwight.”

“Damn, girl. That was quick!” Arat’s laugh echoed through the speaker. “You could have at least pretended to think about it for a minute.”

The Virginia sun was beating down with all its might as you made your way through the field in the knee-high grass. You retrieved the water bottle from your backpack, but the few gulps of lukewarm water did little to wet your parched throat.

Negan had sent out a search party for two workers who were stupid enough to break into the storage room and steal various supplies, but not smart enough to take a car to make their escape. It was just a question of time before they were captured, but you hoped it was going to happen before dinner. It was Friday, and tonight’s menu was going to be mac ‘n cheese. A hot meal and a cold shower, you craved nothing more.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand while scanning the tree line for movement, but everything looked peaceful. Despite a badly decomposed walker that stumbled out of the forest about an hour ago, the search was uneventful. To kill time, Arat proposed to play ‘Fuck, marry, kill’ on the back-up channel, which she swore was safe from prying ears since nobody ever used it.

“Poor D, why would you hurt him?”

Laura could not hide the reproach in her tone. She had had a crush on Dwight since forever but didn’t dare to make a move on him, not even months after Sherry had married Negan.

“He’s a good dude, but not my type, sorry, not sorry.”

“Okay, what about Simon?” Arat chimed in. “I didn’t think you were the marrying type.”

The chorus of cicadas fell silent in the background as the transmission ended.

“I’m not, but I can’t fuck him too if I marry Negan.”

“Wait...what?”

An amused smile spread on your lips at the frantic reaction.

“Well, you know the rules. If you marry Negan, you can’t be with anybody else but him, right? But what if I want to fuck both him and Simon? The only way is to marry Simon and cheat on him with Negan. Or better yet, to coax them into a threesome.”

“Okay, I get Simon. He’s funny, has a killer swagger and that moustache must feel like heaven on your pussy,” Laura pondered. “But Negan…I mean, he’s hot, but also volatile, dangerous, and rough. He must be an animal in bed. I bet even his cum-face is scary.”

“I choose to accept the mission and find out for your peace of mind. I think he made Sherry come at least three times last night. Lucky bitch,” you sighed with envy recalling the sinful noises you overheard from Negan’s room.

“Then why don’t you volunteer to become a wife?”

“I worked my ass off to become a Savior, and will not give it up to sit around in the wives’ lounge, eat candy and paint my nails all day. I’d rather keep my job and fantasize about Negan and Simon while rubbing one out at night.”

The conversation was interrupted by your radio emitting a long beep, pulling you back to reality and the task at hand. You stopped in your tracks and switched to the primary channel.

“The search is over, we have the sorry shits in custody,” you heard Negan’s gravelly voice announce, his patience evidently worn thin. “Everybody get the fuck back to base now!”

You felt a pang of sorrow for the escapees. They were no doubt going to receive a painfully thorough ironing after dinner.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

An hour and a shower later you were on your way to the canteen with Arat and Laura in tow. The scent of melted cheese and spices filling the corridors made saliva pool in your mouth.

You devoured the plate of pasta within minutes and chugged two glasses of water to quench your thirst after the savoury meal. Feeling full and sleepy, you rested your chin in your palm, while Arat and Laura engaged in a heated debate over which of the newbie Saviors they wanted to fuck, marry and kill respectively.

“Evening, ladies,” Simon stopped by your table, his hands resting on his hips. After giving the two girls a quick nod, his eyes settled on you. “He wants to see you, Y/N, in his room.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. Negan didn’t summon anyone but his wives at such a late hour and he had never asked to see you in his room before.

“Something wrong?”

“Everything’s A-Okay. The boss man just wants to have a word with you in private. Let’s not keep him waiting,” Simon gestured towards the door, his usual smirk never faltering.

You stood up from the table and gave Arat and Laura a wink before following Simon out of the canteen.

“I thought he was going to punish the escapees after dinner,” you stated rather than asked while trying to keep up with Simon’s long strides.

“Tomorrow,” he muttered under his breath. “There’s another matter he wants to deal with tonight.”

His curt response caught you off-guard, but you attributed it to him being hungry, since you had not seen him at dinner earlier.

Simon led you to the top floor and stopped before a large mahogany double door. Knocking twice, he turned the knob without waiting for an answer, and motioned for you to step inside.

Negan’s quarters looked nothing like other parts of the Sanctuary. It felt like entering the suite of a five-star hotel and you couldn’t stop looking around in amazement. The room was lavishly furnished with furniture and accessories from an expensive interior design store the Saviors had looted on your first run. There was a giant four poster bed to your left, decorated with grey, satin bedsheets and neatly arranged pillows, and to your right a comfortable black leather couch with two matching armchairs surrounding a coffee table. A bar area was set up in the corner complete with leather stools and a selection of spirits. The private bathroom was hidden behind a black door on the opposite wall, but you imagined it to be just as extravagant. Negan had a taste for the finer things in life, like beautiful women, good food and his luxurious apartment was no exception. Your room looked like a mouse hole in comparison.

Negan was sitting behind his desk, several papers splayed out before him next to a tumbler filled with amber liquid. His leather jacket was draped over the back of his seat, but his signature red scarf was still draped around his neck. The soft glow of the desk lamp cast an eerie light on his face. He looked up from the ledger in his hand and beckoned you closer, pointing at the chair in front of him.

Simon strode over to the couch behind you and plopped down, the leather squeaking under his weight. You were surprised to see him stay, but Negan didn’t seem to mind his number two’s presence in the room. He took a small sip of his drink and leaned back in the armchair, studying you with an unreadable expression.

Negan had always treated you fairly, appreciating your scavenging skills and rewarding your hard work. You climbed the imaginary career ladder at the community from common worker to lieutenant thanks to your tenacity, courage and ability to handle Negan’s short temper and crude humour. Along with Arat and Simon you were one of his most trusted soldiers, carrying out his orders and accompanying him on runs. You had been infatuated with him from the start and often found your eyes lingering on your formidable leader, but seemingly he had never expressed an interest in you.

With Simon your attraction began on your first run to Alexandria, when you were assigned to ride in the same truck and hit it off right away during the long journey. Simon was funny, smart and cute in a rugged way, and soon the two men occupied your dreams, with the three of you ending up having hot, messy sex on every vertical and horizontal surface imaginable. Yet, you did your best to act professionally around them, not letting your secret obsession interfere with your work.

“Something you wanna tell me?” Negan jolted you from your thoughts. “Anything you’d like to confess?”

“I’m not a religious person, sorry,” you pursed your lips to suppress a smile.

Simon snickered behind you, but Negan seemed unfazed by your cheekiness. He swirled his whisky a few times, his touch leaving random marks on the foggy surface of the glass.

“Okay, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I took an extra serving of the apple pie at dinner last night. It was too delicious to resist.”

Negan narrowed his eyes at you and stroked his chin, his gloved fingers scraping his salt-and-pepper stubble.

“Or if this is about the crime novel I haven’t returned to the library, I know it’s almost a month overdue, but I still have two chapters left and want to know who the killer is.”

You heard the sound before your eyes could register the motion as Negan slammed down his glass on the desk. You expected it to shatter into a million pieces, but the tumbler miraculously survived the impact, the ice cubes clinking against each other in protest.

“Careful, Y/N. You don’t wanna test my patience.”

You gulped hard, feeling an uneasy chill go down your spine. Negan was usually up for jokes, but he was evidently not in the mood for them now, and you could not shake off the thought that you were the reason for it.

He stood up and keeping his gaze fixed on you rounded the desk before leaning against it, resting his hands on the edge. His crotch was level with your eyes, and you straightened up in your seat to avoid having to look at the impressive package in his pants.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you opted for honesty.

Negan pushed himself away from the desk and started circling you. His looming presence behind you made the hair stand up on your back, but you fought the urge to turn around.

“I don’t take lightly to my Saviors keeping secrets from me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you asserted but regretted it immediately when Negan’s face appeared in your peripheral vision.

“Bullshit!” he snarled against your ear. “What about that little girl talk over the radio this afternoon?”

His words made the blood drain from your face. Closing your eyes, you wished the ground would miraculously open and swallow you up.

“Imagine my surprise when during today’s run, I heard one of my top gals confess over the back-up channel that she was fantasizing about me and my right-hand man while rubbing one out at night.”

If the blood had gone from your face before, it now rushed right back up as you felt your cheeks grow hot.

“That shit made me very, very disappointed.”

Negan stepped back in front of you, and crossing his ankles leaned against the desk. The intensity of his stare made your heart sink. You tried to guess how much of your radio conversation with Arat and Laura he could have heard. If luck was on your side, he only caught the last part. If not...

…you didn’t even want to go there.

“We were just…joking. A silly chat between us girls to pass the time,” you shrugged, feeling perspiration bead on your forehead.

Negan studied your face intently weighing your words.

“What do you make of this, Simon?”

“She’s lying, boss,” came the merry retort from the couch.

You head snapped around in protest but Negan grabbed your chin with his gloved hand, forcing you to look at him.

“I think you’re right,” he mused in a sing-song voice, his face so close that you could smell his body wash and the faint trace of whiskey on his breath. ”Get over here and give me a hand, will you?”

You heard Simon’s heavy boots cross the room and stop behind you. Negan gave him a knowing look and before you knew it, your arms were yanked back, and held firmly behind the chair.

“Where were we, doll?” Negan let go of your chin and crouched down in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “Oh, yes. You fantasizing about me and Simon nailing you.”

He licked his lips slowly and your eyes followed the motion instinctively.

“What’s the matter, Y/N? Cat got your tongue? You were very talkative over the radio earlier,” Negan taunted sardonically.

You closed your legs to put some distance between your bodies, but Negan squeezed your thighs in warning and forced them further apart.

“Tell me what you thought about last night.”

You squirmed in your seat, Negan’s command ringing in your ears in the deafening silence that followed.

“You said that you were listening to me fucking Sherry. What did you think about to get off?”

Your eyes went wide like saucers and you desperately tried to come up with a plausible excuse, but your mind went completely blank. Sharing a kinky fantasy over the radio with your best friends was one thing. But confessing it face to face to the very subjects of it?

“Careful, Y/N,” Negan warned sensing your stalling, his mouth tightening into a thin line. “I want the truth on this one.”

You went limp in Simon’s grip with an exasperated sigh. As much as you hated to admit defeat, they cornered you. You held your head up high and gave Negan a defiant look. If he wanted to hear the truth, you were going to tell him just that, consequences be damned.

“We were in the meeting room, at the usual Monday briefing for the lieutenants. I disagreed with your order, and we got into an argument over it. I knew that I was pushing your buttons but the more riled up you got, the more it turned me on.”

Negan looked at you with a faint smirk, as if the same idea had crossed his mind before.

“You decided that if I was bold enough to backtalk in front of your men, then I would also be punished in front of them. Simon pinned me down on the meeting table, and the two of you took turns having your way with me.”

Negan’s pupils dilated, the primal reaction urging you to continue.

“All the lieutenants were watching us with hunger and envy that they could only look, but not touch or taste me. I was completely exposed and at your mercy, and yet felt safe and in control of the situation, because that was exactly what I wanted. To be taken, dominated, marked and used for your pleasure. You kept teasing me, edging me, until I was a begging mess. And in the end, you came inside me, breeding me.”

Negan tsked with a shake of his head.

“And you were hiding all of this from me? Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But don’t worry, we will rectify the situation right now.”

Your heart dropped as the meaning of his words sank in. This was it. You were going to be demoted, lose your friends, the respect of the Saviors and could never go near Negan and Simon again. Or they would kick you out of the Sanctuary even. And all of this because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Now you knew why the ironing of the escapees had been postponed. Negan had deemed your punishment more urgent.

“You wanna pay close attention to this, because I’m only going to say it once. Hearing your dirty little confession over the radio made me and Simon hard as steel. So we decided to make your wish come true.”

You blinked twice, expecting to wake up from what seemed to be the weirdest dream you had ever had. You were never going to stuff yourself full of food before bed again.

“But I have two conditions. Are you with me, doll?”

You nodded weakly as Negan’s fingers drew a zigzag pattern on your jeans.

“One: as much as the thought of fucking you in front of my men is tickling my balls, I am not letting those fuckers lay their eyes on you. It’s going to be just you, me and Simon.”

The offer sounded more than fair to you.

"Two: you know well I don’t share my gals with anyone, except for when I have a moresome with my wives, and I only allow them to fuck each other because I get to watch. What’s mine is mine.”

Your breath hitched as he moved his hands further up, the tip of his fingers skimming the apex of your thighs.

“But since your fantasy involved my right-hand man as well, I’m willing to bend the rules just this once.”

Heat pooled in your belly as you watched him, mesmerized by his usually hazel eyes darkening to dark chocolate.

“So, tonight I get exclusive membership at your pussy bar, no exceptions. You will be my little breeding bitch only,” he stroked your clothed centre, eliciting a pathetic whine from you. “As for other parts of your body, sharing is caring.” Negan looked up at Simon flashing his pearly whites, before his eyes settled back on you.

You stared at him at a loss for words. One part of you was cheering you on to seize the opportunity and accept the indecent proposal, while the other was adamant that you were going to wake up any minute. Negan lifted his gloved hand to your cheek and traced your lower lip, expecting an answer. You let your body do the talking and opened your mouth to run your tongue over his thumb, tracing a shiny path on the black leather. If this was indeed just a dream, you were going to make sure it would be a wet one.

“Damn, Simon, I knew she was going to be trouble from the moment we met her,” Negan drawled, his eyes heavy with desire.

Grabbing the back of your head he pulled you up and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth possessively. Simon pushed the chair out of the way and pressed himself into your back trapping your body between him and Negan. Even through two layers of clothing you could feel the outline of his hard-on, earning a low moan from you.

“Easy, Simon,” Negan grinned wickedly, sucking and nibbling on your neck. “We don’t want her to cum just yet.”

Closing your eyes, you rested your head on Simon’s shoulder to offer Negan easier access to your skin. Lost in the pleasure the two men were showering you with your right hand went to cup Negan’s bulge, while you grabbed the back of Simon’s head with the other and arched your back against him.

“Looks like someone’s eager,” Simon murmured grinding into your ass.

“She’s not the only one,” Negan hissed. “Let’s get her out of these fucking clothes, before I blow my load in my pants.”

He lifted your shirt over your head, and Simon unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off your legs along with your boots. You felt self-conscious standing before the two men in nothing but your underwear but Negan’s lustful gaze and the appreciative rumble in Simon’s chest chased all your insecurities away. Simon unclasped your bra and you dropped your hands to your sides, letting it slide down onto the floor. He went for your panties next, but Negan stopped him with a grunt, reminding him of the exclusive territorial rights he had established earlier.

Simon seemed unfazed by the setback and put his plan B in motion peppering your neck with sloppy kisses. He placed his right hand on top of yours, and guided it from his crotch to your front, tracing your belly button with the tip of your fingers, before slipping them inside your panties and brushing your slit.

His ingenuity impressed you, but Negan didn’t share the sentiment.

“Hands off, Simon, her pussy is mine,“ he bared his teeth at him.

The primal gesture combined with the possessiveness in his voice made your insides coil with anticipation. Simon held his hands up with a smug look and licked his fingertips, his eyes closing in delight as he savoured the taste of your arousal.

Negan yanked your panties down, the disapproval over your complicity in Simon’s crime evident on his face. Simon kneeled on the ground and lifted the garment to his nose to take a whiff, before letting it fall on top of your discarded clothes.

“I think we should catch up with her, Simon” Negan suggested, his eyes drinking in your nakedness.

He took off his shirt revealing tufts of dark chest hair and various tattoos, some faded, some more recent looking. You heard Simon unbuckle his belt behind you and looked back over your shoulder to steal a glance. He was bulkier than Negan, his muscles defined, and chest fully shaved. You watched the piles of clothes grow by their feet until they stood before you completely naked, their cocks standing proud against their bellies. Simon’s was thick and veiny, Negan’s long and smooth, but both impressive in its own right. You bit down on your lip, yearning to taste them.

“Like what you see, doll?” Negan flicked his tongue suggestively at you. “Get on your knees and show Simon what that smart mouth is capable of,” he instructed pointing down on the ground. “But don’t make him cum yet.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” you purred.

“We shall see when you choke on his dick,” Negan replied darkly before turning to his right-hand man. “Show her who’s the fucking boss here.”

Simon didn’t need to be told twice and placing his hand on your shoulder pushed you down on the carpet. You grabbed his cock and gave it a few pumps before licking off the drops of pre-cum oozing from the tip. He sighed out loud, as you closed your mouth over the head and sucked gently, enjoying the salty taste. You swallowed him inch by inch, tracing every vein with your tongue, until he was buried deep in your throat. His hands tightened in your hair to keep you still, eliciting a muffled whine from you, your lips vibrating around his length. When you could no longer fight the need to gag, you began to move, bobbing your head up and down.

Opening your eyes, you searched for Negan and found him getting comfortable in the chair you had been sitting in before. He was watching your every move, legs wide open, stroking himself lazily. You mirrored his pace instinctively and sucked on Simon in sync with his palm fisting his dick. Negan sucked on his teeth as he watched your cheeks bulge rhythmically.

You pulled back and swirled your tongue around the crown like catching drips from a melting ice cream cone. Simon lowered his hand to the back of your head, spreading his fingers wide for a solid hold, and started fucking your mouth with abandon. Your throat was contracting and burning with every thrust but you didn’t mind the discomfort, feeling a rush of blood go to your core from him using you just like you had imagined.

“That’s enough,” Negan barked, but Simon was too far gone in pleasure to listen, his eyes closed, and head thrown back. You kept your eyes on Negan to show him that you had heard him and doubled your efforts, forming a ring with your thumb and index finger around the root of Simon’s shaft, and cupping his balls in your free hand. You knew that you were playing with fire, but the thrill was too tempting to resist.

Negan’s mouth twisted into a snarl and he jumped up from the chair to advance on you, his manhood swinging with every step like a metronome. You felt a sharp tug on your hair and let Simon slip from your mouth, a string of saliva hanging off your chin.

“I said, enough!” Negan repeated and pulled you up into a standing position. “Simon, take a time-out before you bust a nut.”

You felt him swat your ass hard and yelped in surprise.

“This may be your fantasy, doll, but I call the fucking shots here and will not hesitate to dole out some hard punishment, if you don’t follow my orders,” he seethed.

Still holding you by the make-shift ponytail he pushed you towards the bed and showed you down on the mattress.

“On your back, arms above your head.”

You laid back down against the pillows as you were told. Negan knelt between your legs and spread them apart by your knees.

“Well, would you look at this creamy little mess in here!” his eyes gleamed with unadulterated joy.

Getting on his elbows, he traced your mound with his lips, his mouth barely touching you, the combination of the scruff of his beard and his warm breath tickling deliciously. Your hands fisted the sheets as he licked your pussy from bottom to top, before dripping the tip into your opening, and lapping up your juices with relish. He peeked up at you through his long lashes, watching your reactions. His lips were sticky with your arousal as he ate you out shamelessly as if you had been his last meal on Earth.

You looked to your right to find Simon sitting on the couch, watching the two of you with drowsy eyes. He was trying hard to comply with Negan’s orders, but it was evident how much he wanted to touch himself as he fidgeted in his seat, his cock begging for attention.

Negan moved his tongue to your clit and sucked it between his teeth, the sensation exquisite and overwhelming at the same time. You cried out and digging your heels into the mattress lifted your body to move away from him, but he wrapped his fingers around your thighs holding you in place. His tongue continued its sensual assault alternating between slow, soft flicks, and fast, greedy slurps. The variation of the tempo and intensity combined with the thrill of not knowing what his next move would be was driving you crazy with want.

You bucked your hips to maximize the contact between your bodies, he, however, had other plans and sat back on his heels. Pulling you down by the waist until he was kneeling between your thighs, he lined himself up at your entrance and began grinding against your heat, coating his length with your wetness.

“Negan...” you whimpered and raised your pelvis to make him slide inside you, but he restrained you by putting his hand on your stomach.

“Not yet.”

Getting impatient you reached for his dick, but he slapped your hand away.

“I said, not yet! Simon, come here!”

You felt the bed dip and calloused hands pinning your wrists down on the mattress. Tilting your head to the side you continued to suck on Simon, eager to finish what Negan’s intervention had interrupted earlier.

You arched your back off the mattress as Negan pinched your right nipple and rolled it between his fingers. He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, before sucking it into his mouth and blowing on the stiff peak, his saliva feeling like a cool ointment against your overheated skin.

“Please...” you gasped, not sure if you were asking him to stop or to go on.

“I think she’s learned her lesson,” Simon gritted his words, the sensory overload of your lips on him, and the sight of Negan toying with you pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

“I don’t think so, Simon. But it looks like she will milk you dry any minute, and I want to fuck this pretty pussy raw finally.”

Negan positioned himself at your dripping cunt and slid inside, inch by inch. You cried out in ecstasy from the sweet pressure of him stretching you wide. When he was buried to the hilt, he remained still, and taking hold of your ankles, spread your legs wide.

“Look at that, Simon, how she is taking my big, fat dick like a champ?”

He finally began to move in a painfully slow rhythm, enjoying as your warmth enveloped him. Crossing your legs for a closer fit he placed your feet on his shoulder, the penetration so deep that you let out a cry with every thrust. Your entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and your damp strands of hair stuck to your forehead. You were exposed and at the mercy of the two men, but had never felt this free and complete. Tension was building in your stomach and you closed your eyes to absorb yourself in the moment.

Negan, however, pulled out abruptly, earning him a frustrated mewl from you that he rewarded with a slap delivered on your swollen clit.

“On all fours, doll. I want to fill this fertile pussy full of my cum.”

Simon let go of your arms and sat back against the headboard. You rolled over lifting yourself up on your elbows, barely able to support your own weight. Negan lifted your ass up and placing his palm between your shoulder blades pushed you down in Simon’s lap. When he was satisfied with the angle, he rammed into you again, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Are you going to cum on my cock, like a good girl?” he growled and spanked your ass hard.

You cried out an affirmative and continued to pleasure Simon while chasing your own release. A few seconds later you felt every nerve ending in your body tingle and warmth spread to your core. Your toes curled inward as your body surrendered to the inevitable and waves of ecstasy washed over you, dulling your senses for what felt like several minutes. The vibrations of your moans around him made Simon succumb to his own climax. He started twitching and throbbing, before spurting his seed down your throat. You swallowed every drop hungrily before releasing his softening member from your mouth.

Negan let you ride out your high, and then picked up the speed again. Fisting your hair, he pulled your head back twisting your body in an unnatural shape as he continued to pound you. His hand curled around your neck, his fingers squeezing hard enough to make black spots appear in your vision and blood drum in your ears. Drops of sweat fell from his chest to your ass tickling down to your sides and onto the sheet as he rode you, not losing his rhythm for a second.

His moves became more urgent, until he buried himself inside you one last time. He groaned a series of expletives under his breath before biting down on your shoulder as he came inside you, coating your inner walls with his cum. His fingers released their grip around your throat, allowing much-needed oxygen to fill your lungs and a second orgasm, even more intense than the first, consume you. You collapsed on the bed all strength leaving your limbs, as the room came back into focus, your heightened senses perceiving everything all at once.

Negan rolled off of you onto his back, his arm resting over his eyes, as Simon laid down against the pillows, a sly grin plastered over his face.

“Damn, boss,“ he wiped his brow with his thumb. “If only all dreams came true.”

Your reply was a tired but satisfied hum of agreement. A girl could dream, but making it come true was so much better.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

You stirred awake at the break of dawn. Taking in your surroundings you realized that you were still in Negan’s bed. It was dark outside, but the first rays of the sun peeked through the heavy curtains. You felt spent and sore, your skin sticky with the remnants of sweat and dried cum. The bitemark on your neck was still tender, but you wore it with pride as proof of Negan’s claim over you. Turning your head, you found him lying sprawled out on his stomach, his breathing deep and even, but Simon’s side of the bed was empty, the wrinkled sheets cold already.

You sat up carefully, searching for your clothes in the dim light, when you felt a strong arm circle around your waist.

“Where do you think you’re going, doll?” Negan’s raspy drawl made you shiver.

“Back to my room?” you looked at him over your shoulder.

“Nuh-uh,” he pulled you back against his chest. “You are staying. I want you all to myself for round two in the morning. And after that I may even change my mind about fucking you at the Monday briefing.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” you tried to untangle yourself from his hold but were easily overpowered after a playful struggle and his expert fingers finding your tickle spot.

“Just sass me, doll, and you shall see, along with all the filthy ideas I have on my mind.”

The alluring promise made you relax against him, dark words whispered in the twilight lulling you back to sleep, and another fantasy taking shape in your imagination already.

420 notes · View notes

coyotesongwriting · 4 years

Text

Operation: Christmas

Avengers - Natasha Romanov/Reader

Part 2 of my 12 Days Of Christmas Fics!

Story Summary: Every year your dad throws a Christmas party, and you’re expected to attend so that your dad can show you off. Each year is worse than the last, but when Nat offers to go with you as your date this year maybe things are looking up.

Word Count: 4612

Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoy! Happy Holidays!

Warning: Your stepmom is kinda a dick

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Tag List (if you want to be added or removed let me know!): @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark @redfoxwritesstuff @brokenthelovely @collinsstanharbour @samsgoddess @noplacelikehome77

With a loud groan of frustration, you threw yourself back onto the bed next to Nat. She was sitting with her back against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her as she watched you. When she’d heard you were still struggling to find an ‘appropriate’ dress for your father’s holiday party this evening, she’d offered to lend you one. For the last half hour you’d been raiding her closet as she gave you a thumbs up or down on each one.

You’d managed to finally settle on a gorgeous red dress, elegant enough that your father wouldn’t complain but simple enough that you didn’t feel uncomfortable in it. The color was a gorgeous maroon, and it had some embroidery work on the top, coming up to the sweetheart neckline.

“I don’t even want to go to this stupid party, Nat” you whined, turning to nuzzle your face into her leg.

Her hand reached out to brush the hair out of your face, a small frown on her lips. You’d long ago accepted that your feelings for her were one-sided, but you were a tactile person. Touching her always brought a sense of peace over you, and as long as she continued to lean into your touch, you weren’t going to stop.

“Then why are you going?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she studied your face.

“Because my brother’s going and I can’t just leave him to fend for himself! We always go together and keep an eye on each other” you sighed, rolling onto your back and resting your head on her thigh. Her fingers began to comb through your hair and you let out an appreciative hum before continuing, “This year he’s bringing his fiance and I know it’s just going to be even worse than usual because Danny quit working for Dad which means he won’t even be showing him off. Basically Dad’s going to parade me around the room like his show pony and I’m going to have no one to talk to. Plus, he’s going to try and pawn me off on every single bachelor and bachelorette in there.”

Her fingers stilled in your hair and you looked up at her curiously, watching the thoughts race across her face. You loved the quiet moments like this when it was just the two of you. She felt no need to be on the defensive, and it was nice seeing her with her walls down, emotions playing across her face instead of hidden back behind the mask she normally wore.

“What if I went with you? Just tell your dad I’m your date” she offered, smiling down at you.

You sat up quickly, eyes searching hers, “Nat, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine, I promise. You’ve got better things to do than go to my Dad’s Christmas party with me. Literally anything would be more fun.”

“Clearly you’ve never been on a mission with Sam and Bucky, even a Christmas party with your Dad would beat that. Besides, I want to help you out. And it would mean I get to spend the evening with you.” she argued.

“Nat…” you began to chew your lip, thinking through the possibilities in front of you. If Nat came, maybe the night wouldn’t be a pure disaster? “I couldn’t ask you to do that, not for me.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering”

“Seriously, I couldn’t do this to you. It wouldn’t feel right to torture you like this. You realize my dad would then be parading me and you around to meet each and every one of his business colleagues. He’d have to show off his ‘successful business owner and her girlfriend, the Avenger.’”

“Do you not want me to come with you?” she asked, smirking at you. She already knew what your answer would be.

“You know I do -”

She cut you off before you could continue, “Then it’s settled. You go get changed, you can take the bathroom. I’ll find something and then we can go. You said you needed to meet your brother outside the shop in an hour? Get a move on!”

Nat jumped to her feet, pulling you along with her. She grabbed the dress you’d picked, pushing it into your hands and nudging you towards the bathroom before you had a chance to argue. You hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the room. On the one hand, you wanted to argue with her, tell her she didn’t need to do this for you. But on the other… The idea of getting to pretend, even if only for one night, that Nat was dating you was enough to get you bite back any further debate.

Thirty minutes later, your hair was pulled up into a gorgeous up-do, and your makeup was done just how you liked. The chiffon of your dress had fought you a little as you’d put it on, but as you checked yourself out in the mirror you knew you’d made the perfect call on what dress to wear this evening.

You knocked gently on the door to the bedroom, “Can I come out Nat? You dressed yet?”

Her “yes” was muffled by the heavy door, and you opened the door slowly. When your eyes fell on her, the breath caught in your throat. She’d put on a gorgeous red dress as well, the shade complimenting yours perfectly. The straps of the dress rested on her upper arms, leaving her shoulders bare to the world. A slit ran up the side of her dress high up onto her thigh. Her hair was curled slightly, and you couldn’t help but wonder how she’d managed that since you’d taken over her bathroom.

Thoughts raced through your mind, and it wasn’t until she called your name that you realized she’d spoken to you. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you merely prayed she wouldn’t notice, or at least, that she wouldn’t call you out on it.

“Uh…” you cleared your throat, “Sorry. Um, what were you saying?”

She chuckled, running her hands down the front of her dress to smooth it. If you didn’t know her better, she’d almost look nervous in her movements. Your eyes wandered to her lips, starting to zone out as you imagine how they’d feel pressed against yours.

“What do you think?” she asked, spinning in a slow circle in front of you.

“You look… amazing. Honestly, wow. Just, I mean, wow” you stammered, silently cursing yourself for sounding like a fool.

Her laugh was soft, infectious as you always found it, and you couldn’t help but chuckle back. She held her arm out to you, and you didn’t hesitate to link yours with her as you headed out.

The ride to your book store seemed to pass in a blur. Nat had turned up the music as she drove, singing along and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. It was times like this that you remembered the day she’d come into your life. You were working in the little book shop you owned, stocking shelves, when you’d heard yelling. A man you’d never seen before raced past you and out the back, followed a few minutes later by the most gorgeous women you’d ever seen.

She’d caught her man, and had come back a few days later to see you. When you’d asked her, she said she just wanted to make sure you weren’t shaken up after the chase. She began to be a regular at the store. You’d tried to figure out the pattern in the books she was buying, but you could never seem to figure it out. Some days she purchased classics like Shakespeare, and the next visit she’d purchase Stephen King or even a romance novel.

It wasn’t long before you’d befriended her, and nowadays she stopped by at least twice a week if she wasn’t on a mission. You’d never admit it to her, but you’d fallen in love with her among the bookshelves, in the cold rainy days and the heated arguments about characters and the decisions they made.

By the time you pulled up, your brother, Danny, and his fiance, Samantha, were already waiting. As you climbed out of the car, you couldn’t help but laugh. Danny and Samantha were also wearing red, and if you hadn’t known any better you’d have thought the four of you planned it.

You quickly introduced Nat to Danny and Samantha and piled into his car, trading small talk as you drove to the hotel downtown where your father was throwing his holiday party. The way he acted, you’d think you come from a family loaded with money. No, your family was firmly in the middle class, but he was determined to make others see him as a rich man. Which is why he always rented out a big ballroom for his party and paid for expensive catering.

As the four you of climbed out of the car, your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. All of the other people you recognized as going to Dad’s party were wearing all white, no sign of color on them. Immediately, it hit you like a thunderbolt and you let out a whispered “Fuck.” When the others turned to look at you, you sighed deeply.

“Danny. Remember the theme?!” you hissed, your voice low. As soon as you spooke, his face blanched and his eyes skimmed over everyone entering the party. At Samantha and Nat’s puzzled looks, you sighed, “The theme for this year’s party? All white.”

Nat glanced over the group, barely holding back her smile as she realized now it really would look like the four of you had planned this. When everyone else at the party would blend in, a sea of white, you’d all stand out like a sore thumb - quite literally.

“You know, babe” she chuckled softly at the look you gave her, “If you’d have told me there was a theme, I could have made sure we dressed appropriately.”

The look Samantha shot Danny told you this was the first she’d heard of theme as well., and you couldn’t help the nervous grin on your face. Your group lingered in the doorway, trying to decide what you should do. Before you could though, your father and step-mother had spotted you, and were making their way over. Your Dad wore his usual fake smile, but if looks could kill your step mother, Linda, would have murdered you all twice over. When you began to shift under her gaze, Nat wrapped a comforting arm around your waist, pulling you against her.

You shot her a grateful smile, wincing slightly as your step-mother and father reached you. To anyone who walked by, it looked like a happy moment with the family. If you didn’t know her, the smile on Linda’s face would seem sincere. Her eyes told you a different story, anger swirling rapidly through them. You could almost feel the venom coming off her.

“I see you didn’t read the invitation” Linda’s voice was flat as she pulled you in for a quick hug before she stepped back.

Nat smiled, the definition of kindess and contrite as she spoke“I’m sorry Mrs. [Y/L/N]. I must have misread the invitation, I thought it said any color but white.”

Linda turned her attention to Nat, and froze as her gaze locked onto her face. It was clear she knew who she was, and from the way her eyes settled slightly, Nat’s reputation was definitely enough to get you out of too much trouble. Nat’s hand had found her way into yours, and she squeezed it twice, giving you the strength to meet Linda’s gaze with a soft grin.

Before Linda could speak again, your Dad shot her a grin, “No need to apologize, Ms. Romanov. You’re a very busy woman and we completely understand. Thank you for coming this evening, although I must admit I’m surprised to see you here…”

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, but I couldn’t miss the chance to meet [Y/N]’s family for myself. She’s told me so much about you all that I can’t help but feel like I know you already” Nat paused, sending Linda a pointed look before continuing, “I’d hate to be an inconvenience.”

“Nonsense, you could never. Not after everything you’ve done for the city. I just wish I’d known you were coming sooner.” the fake tone in your step-mother’s voice had you wanting to roll your eyes in frustration. Nodding his head once towards the bar, Danny and Samantha made a break for the bar, neither your father or step-mother bothering to address them.

”My apologies, Linda.” you bit back a sigh, already fed up with dealing with her, “I wasn’t sure if Nat would be back in time to join us this evening. I would have informed you sooner if I had known.”

“How do you know my daughter?” Dad studied Nat, a hopeful grin on his face. The last time you’d brought someone around, he’d disapproved of them, they weren’t good enough, they wouldn’t improve the family name. From the look on his face though, you could tell he approved of Nat.

Nat’s laughter was soft, easy, and it made your stomach flip, butterflies swirling around. “I was looking for a gift for a friend, and I happened across her little book store. From the first moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I wanted to win her over. She helped me get the gift, and then I found excuse after excuse to come in at least once a week. Eventually, I asked her out for coffee. And the rest as they say, is history.”

The way her eyes softened as she looked at you, her fingers intertwined in yours, you couldn’t help but imagine that maybe your feelings were mutual. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to chase the thought from your head. You two were just best friends, nothing more, nothing less. That would never change, and you needed to accept it.

“Does that mean you two are…?” Dad’s grin was growing now that she hadn’t shot him down.

“Yes, Mr. [Y/L/N]. We’re dating” Nat answered before you could, and her thumb began to slowly rub small circles into your hand.

“Good. I’m glad for you both. Now, why don’t I introduce you to everyone?” Dad rested his hand on your shoulder, and you shot Nat an apologetic glance, knowing that the next hour or two were going to be pure hell.

Linda muttered an excuse about needing to add another seat to the table and excused herself, racing off to the kitchen while you watched. Before you could even consider going to catch up with Danny, Dad had his fakest smile on and was leading you around the room.

For the next hour and a half, Dad slowly made his way through the whole party, dragging along you and Nat. With every new person he came across, he’d make basic small talk before telling them how successful your shop was, and how you were now dating Natasha Romanov, the famed Avenger.

You were used to this hellish event, your Dad had started throwing them 10 years ago, after he married Linda. Every year (except the one you’d died your hair into a rainbow) he’d parade you around like his show pony, and you’d be expected to behave as if you were the perfect family. Once you turned 18, he’d started trying to pawn you off on everyone who had a single child your age. It was always the worst.

This year, things were different. With Nat by your side the night was almost enjoyable. Sure, the introductions themselves were still a nightmare, as was the small talk, but Nat’s playful jokes and hand in yours made it all seem so… pleasant. You envied the ease as she spoke to everyone around, the way her tales and demeanor seemed to draw everyone in.

When dinner time came, you and Nat quickly found a place at a small back table with Samantha and Danny, silently thanking Linda for not doing the whole assigned seating thing. Sure, they only didn't do it so they could jump between tables the night of if they decided someone else required their attention, but still. Tonight it was helpful.

As you all settled into your seats, Nat’s hand finally slipped from yours for the first time since entering the party. It suddenly felt empty, and you couldn’t help but miss the gentle warmth of her palm pressed against yours. While the two of you were no longer holding hands though, it was like you couldn’t stay apart from one another. You were drawn together like magnets. Your thigh gently pressed against hers under the table, your fingers brushing as you reached for your glasses. Sure, the two of you had always been hands-on, but today it was like the two of you couldn’t keep away - not that either of you really tried.

Dinner seemed to fly by as you and Danny swapped teasing insults. You’d always been close to your brother, and that meant you took turn telling embarrassing stories of the other. You told of the time he’d accidentally drunk-dialed you instead of Samantha (you joked you needed therapy after all of that), and he countered with the time when you were children and he’d pretended to be a ghost and chased you, wearing a 101 Dalmatians blanket over his head. You’d run, screaming for your life and hide under your mother’s desk, not seeming to realize that ghosts didn’t have 101 Dalmatians on them.

By the time dinner had finished, you were all feeling good from the champagne that had been flowing all night, and Nat now had heard a lifetime of embarrassing stories about you. You couldn’t find it in you to mind though. As the tables were cleared, the band began to play and couples made their way onto the dance floor.

Before you could protest, Nat pulled you to your feet and into the fray. Classical music surrounded you, and you couldn’t help but smile softly. You tried to protest, saying you didn’t know how to dance, but she’d ignored you. Her arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you began to slowly move through the dance floor, falling into step with her without a second thought. It felt natural in her arms, twirling around, like this was where you were meant to be.

Maybe it was the champagne, or the lighting, but if you didn’t know better you’d swear that she was looking at you like she wanted to kiss you. Your eyes were drawn to her lips, and only once she let out a soft breath did you bring your eyes up to study hers. The vibrant green stared back at you, and you felt warmth flooding into your cheeks as your eyes locked.

Suddenly, neither of you were dancing anymore. Her eyes searched yours, searching for something, you weren’t sure what, but whatever it was, she seemed to find it. Slowly, she began to lean forward, and you matched her, your faces slowly drawing closer. The air between the two of you felt charged, and you knew that things would never be the same between the two of you after tonight. You couldn’t find it in you to care.

Before your lips could meet, a tight hand grabbed hold of your upper arm and yanked you back. The hand spun you to face them, and you were face to face with Linda. The rage was now evident on her face, and she didn’t speak a word as she began to drag you out of the party. Nat’s hand never left yours, and your mind began to race as you tried to figure out what Linda’s problem was this time.

As soon as you were out of the crowd, Nat pried Linda’s hand off your arm, pulling you back into her. You glanced gratefully back at Nat but froze at the look on her face. You’d never seen such a look of poorly disguised hatred on her face before, and it shocked you. Her eyes softened slightly as she looked at you, silently asking what you wanted to do. None of you wanted to speak, not wanting to risk drawing attention to the situation, and you motioned for Linda to lead the way. Nat’s hand was back in yours, firm and comforting as you followed.

“Natasha. This is family business. Go back to the party, I need to speak with [Y/N]. Privately.” Linda slurred, her voice harsh, but you could see the nerves below the surface. She hadn’t been expecting any resistance, so Nat’s reaction had her startled.

Nat opened her mouth to argue, but you squeezed her hand gently, silencing her as you turned back to Linda, “Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Nat.”

Linda’s eyes narrowed, but even she wasn’t dumb enough to try and get in between you two again, “[Y/N]. You had one simple task for this evening. Mind your manners! Show up on time, in the appropriate outfit and mingle. That’s all. And yet you show up, late, in a very inappropriate outfit! Do you know how disrespectful it is? You and your brother made me look like a fool tonight! Every other person in this party is wearing white, and you all show up together wearing red!” her voice was a low snarl and she leaned against the wall for support. She’d clearly been drinking and had had more than her fair share if you had to guess.

“Dammit Linda, we forgot.” You were frustrated. Ever since Dad had married her, she’d done her best to make your life a living nightmare. Anything you did wrong was a jab at her, whether it was an innocent accident or not. And every time, she’d pull you aside and yell at you. Originally you’d tried to stand up for yourself, but it never mattered. She’d never listen. You’d learned it was just easier to let her rant and then go vent to your brother about it all. When you were younger, you’d try to tell Dad, but he’d brushed you off and sided with her. It was what helped drive the wedge into your relationship with him. So, you were used to this whole thing. Linda would yell, you’d apologize even though you didn’t mean it, and you’d go your separate ways until you had to show at Dad’s birthday party.

“You say that but you do it every year! First your brother embarasses us this year by quitting and saying he couldn’t stand to work with us anymore, and now you pull this stunt at the Christmas party? You’re an ungrateful, spoiled, brat. I put up with you all those years, and all I ask is you mind your manners twice a year!”

Nat had been silent, her body tense as she listened to Linda’s scolding. Before you could offer the ritual apology, Nat beat you to it.

“How dare you?” Nat’s voice was low, dangerous, “Don’t you ever speak to [Y/N] like that again, I swear to god. I’m sorry you’re such a short-sighted, selfish, bitch that you can’t see how amazing she is. She is loyal, and kind, and sweet. [Y/N] is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever had the honor of meeting. She even spent forever trying to find the perfect dress to impress you this evening, and just because she got the color wrong you’re going to pull her aside and yell at her?”

You watched Nat, stunned, as she argued for you. No one had ever stood up to Linda for you before, and if you weren’t already sure you loved her, you were now. You wanted nothing more than to pull her into you and kiss her, and it took everything in you to not just do it.

“I think it’s time we leave” your voice was gentle and you pulled on Nat’s hand.

“That’s probably best” The venom in Linda’s voice had been replaced by fear, and to be honest, you enjoyed seeing your evil stepmother knocked down a peg.

Nat nodded once, and the two of you started back towards the party. You didn’t make it very far though before Nat stopped, turning back towards Linda.

“If I ever hear of you laying a hand on the woman I love again, Linda? I will come for you and it won’t be pretty” Nat snarled, before the two of you continued on your way out.

You didn’t pay attention to much as she led you out of the party and to the car. Your mind was caught in a loop, replaying her words over and over. She’d said she loved you? Surely that was just a part of the act. Right? She’d never shown you any sign before tonight that she was interested in you, let alone that she loved you.

Nat’s fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel, and you realized you’d come to a stop outside your apartment. Neither of you had spoken a word since you’d left Linda behind in the hallway, and the silence was beginning to feel crushing. You began to rack your brain, trying to find the right way to bring it up. You needed to know, once and for all, how Nat felt about you.

“I’m sorry” Nat sighed, eyes locked on the dashboard. She wouldn’t turn to look at you, not even when you rested your hand on her arm.

“Did you mean it?” your voice was barely above a whisper and her tapping froze under your hand, but she still refused to look at you.

“[Y/N], I -”

“Did you mean it?” you cut her off.

“Yes.” Nat was soft, but steady as she spoke.

“Okay then” the sound of your unbuckling seatbelt finally caused her to look at you.

“Okay?” she questioned, confused.

You didn’t respond, merely climbing out of the car. The car door clicked shut behind you as you started up the stairs, but her hand on your arm stopped you. The two of your froze, and you could see the nerves she was barely containing beneath the surface.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke or moved, but finally you broke the silence, “I love you too.”

Nat let out a shuddering breath and stepped forward, crowding into your space. Her hands slowly cupped your face, and you rested your hands on her hips, pulling her into you. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you both leaned in.

The kiss started soft, but gentle pressure soon gave way to hungry lips, and it wasn’t long before her hands were tangled in your hair, your hand slipping lower to rest on the length of thigh her dress revealed. Neither of you were sure how long you stood there, caught up in one another.

When you finally broke apart, what could have been eons later for all you knew - or cared - snow had begun to fall around you, blanketing the world around you in a thin white coat. Her hand found it’s way back to yours, and you realized you’d never grow tired of that feeling, not that you’d want to.

“Baby it’s cold outside. Spend the night?” you smirked, squeezing her hand gently in yours.

Her laugh was light-hearted, her hand squeezing yours back, “My maiden aunt's mind is vicious… But absolutely.”

~~~~~

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#Natasha Romanov x Reader #natasha romanov/reader #natasha romanov #Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff/Reader #Cute #Fluff #Christmas #Fanfic #Happy #Your Stepmom is a dick

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nazariolahela · 5 years

Text

Something Domestic: Chapter 8

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a new TRR AU I’ve been working on. This story is told in first-person narrative, from Riley’s (MC) POV. There will likely be smidges of canon in this, but not too much. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow @aworldoffandoms @dcbbw @ladyangel70 @texaskitten30 @sunandlemons @jlynn12273 @indiacater @jared2612 @rainbowsinthestorm @drakesensworld @badchoicesposts @msjr0119 @katurrade @blackcoffee85 @cynicalworlds-blog @hopefulmoonobject @beardedoafdonutwagon @cmestrella @sugarandspice-milkandhoney

Synopsis: When Riley Brooks takes a new job as a nanny for the affluent Rhys family in New York’s Upper East Side, she assumes she’s just going to care for the children of the couple who hired her. But instead of just school pick-ups and afternoon snacks, she also finds herself spending time with Liam, the handsome divorced dad. Can Riley control her feelings for Liam while still performing the job she was hired for?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Riley and Liam get to know each other and sparks fly.

I look at the clock on the microwave and sigh. It’s 7:02 p.m. and Madeleine still isn’t home. Good thing I didn’t have any Friday night plans. Not that I mind staying late, but a little heads up would have been nice. If she doesn’t show up soon, I’m going to have to get dinner started for the kids. They’re currently upstairs in the playroom, watching a movie, so I’m down here in the living room — sprawled out on the couch — waiting for someone to relieve me of my duties. Mara appears from the elevator a few minutes later, holding a plastic CVS bag.

“Here you are, Miss. The items you requested.”

I take the bag from her and pull out the contents: A bottle of Starbeans Frappuccino Vanilla Coffee, a bag of sour gummy worms, and the latest issue of Trend Magazine. If I'm going to be stuck here, I might as well have sustenance and entertainment. As I sit on the couch, chewing on a gummy worm, I scroll through my social media newsfeed. Looking at photos of my friends and acquaintances getting ready to start their weekend, I feel a tinge of jealousy. Okay, that’s enough of that. I close out the app and reach into the bag, grabbing the frap and the issue of Trend.

Time to catch up on my celebrity gossip. I flip through the pages, thankful there aren’t any more photos of Liam and Madeleine playing “fake family.” Just your daily celebrity feuds, who’s dating who, and your run-of-the-mill rumors. If I didn’t secretly love this stuff so much, I’d hate it. Mara excuses herself to check in with Bastien, so I pull out my phone to text Hana. As I open my text app, the phone rings with an incoming call from her. “Hey, girl!”

“Riley, where are you? My date with Meghan is at 8 p.m. and I can’t decide on an outfit,” she says frantically.

I exhale. “I’m still here. Madeleine’s not home from work yet.”

“I hope everything is okay. Did you text her? Have you heard from Liam?”

“I did but got no answer. Liam should be home soon. If I’m not home before you leave for your date, I just wanted to wish good luck tonight. Whatever you decide to wear, it’s going to knock her socks off.”

She laughs. “You’re ridiculous. Call me if you need me to bring you anything.”

“Will do. Love you!”

“Love you more!”

We hang up and I set the phone back down on the coffee table. I pick up the magazine and resume reading. A few minutes later, I hear the ding of the elevator door and sit up to find Liam entering the penthouse. He looks up from his phone and spots me sitting in the middle of the living room. He shoots me a questioning glance. “Riley? What are you still doing here?”

“Madeleine never showed up. I couldn’t just leave the kids here alone.”

His jaw tightens. “Thank you for that. I’m sorry that she never called. Next time that happens, please don’t hesitate to call me. You shouldn’t have to give up your Friday night plans because my children’s mother can’t pick them up on time. I’ll make sure you get paid overtime for today as well.”

“It’s really no trouble at all. I didn’t have any plans. My roommate has a date tonight, so I was probably just going to sit on my couch and catch up on Real Housewives of Ducitora. Besides, I’m not that big into New York nightlife. Too loud, too many people, too expensive.”

He smirks. “Well, if you’re not busy, why don’t you hang out for a while? I have a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge, and Real Housewives OnDemand.”

I bite my lip, contemplating his offer. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Trust me. You’re not,” he replies, and my chest tightens. One drink won’t hurt. Right? He’s not asking me to have sex with him. Think of it as a chance to get to know him better. I nod and he smiles. He makes his way to the kitchen to retrieve the wine. While he’s gone, I grab my purse and make my way to the bathroom. I check my reflection, making sure I don’t look like a homeless bag lady. I pull the hair tie from my hair and finger-comb through it. I then grab my tinted lip balm and brush a couple of coats across my lips.

Satisfied with my appearance, I flick off the bathroom light and head back to the living room. He returns a moment later, setting the bottle and two glasses on the coffee table. He glances down at my half-empty bottle of frap and the gossip mag. He picks it up, thumbing through the pages and frowns. “I can’t believe you read this crap. Half the things they say in here are total bullshit.”

I shrug. “It’s my guilty pleasure. I like getting a look at how the other half lives. Until I started working here, I assumed all you rich and famous people live in McMansions with gold fixtures and an army of servants. I bet you don’t even cook for yourself.”

He chuckles, the sound warming me from within. “There’s a reason for that. Ask my kids what a terrible cook I am.”

I couldn’t hide my smile. “That explains the personal chef.”

He flashes me a boyish grin that shoots through my body, down to my core. My gods, save me from my lustful ways. He pops the cork of the wine bottle and pours two glasses, handing me one. I bring my wine to my lips and take a long sip. His eyes watch me as my tongue sweeps up a stray drop of wine dripping down the side. He visibly swallows. I think about what Charlotte told me and figure now is a good time to bring it up.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something Charlotte mentioned to me today.” He sets his glass down and focuses his attention on me. I fiddle with my wine glass, doubting myself. He nods for me to continue. I exhale. “Okay. So, she mentioned that Madeleine has friends over from time to time.”

He rolls his eyes. “Penelope and Kiara. Yeah, those two are always around. Those three have been friends since college. I swear, when I married her, apparently they were a package deal.”

Ooh. This is awkward. “Actually, she mentioned a guy. She said that he’s over here frequently and that they spend a substantial amount of time in her room while you’re at work.”

Anger flashes in his eyes. Then almost immediately, he regains his composure. He exhales loudly. “I see. You know, I always suspected that she was bringing men into my home, but I never imagined she was doing it in front of my kids.” He gulps down his wine and pours himself another glass.

“I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you.”

He shakes his head and sighs sadly. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

We sit in silence for several minutes. He brings his wine glass to his mouth, staring into it with a blank expression. I watch him from the corner of my eye, making sure he’s not going to explode. Needing to break the tension, I set my glass on the table and lean back in my seat. “So, I hear you’ve been telling your friends all about me.”

His chokes on his wine and his cheeks immediately flush. “They told you about that?”

“Yeah, for a guy who doesn’t want his ex to find out, you sure talk a lot.”

He grimaces and sets his glass down. “In my defense, Drake, Max, and Liv are the only people I would ever tell something like that because I know they won’t tell her. From the moment I met you, I knew I was attracted to you. And in a moment of drunkenness, I may have confessed that to my friends. I didn’t mean for them to tell you though.”

He looks away. Is he embarrassed? Thinking back to what Drake told me at the bar that night, Liam hasn’t been with anyone since Madeleine. Assuming they were having sex regularly, he said it’s been a few months since he filed for divorce. Which means they probably weren’t having sex at all towards the end. Remembering my own drought, my mind wanders to that forbidden place. Is he lonely? Does he seek the company of certain women to fill the void his wife left? He doesn’t need those women when I’m more than willing to offer my “services” for free. I scold myself for thinking such stupid thoughts and take another sip of my wine.

Clearing his throat, he quickly changes the subject. “So, tell me. Other than gossip rags, trashy reality TV marathons, and hanging out at the Double Tappe, what do you like to do in your spare time?”

I drain the last of my wine and set the glass on the coffee table. “Not much. I do like to read in my spare time. And not just tabloid magazines. I just finished the new John Grisham novel. Talk about intense. Other than that, I spend most of my time hanging out with Hana. We used to spend a lot of time at The Foundry, but the drinks got way too expensive. Plus, the male clientele there really doesn’t really do it for me anymore. Too many tech-bros.”

He nods then picks up the bottle and both glasses and takes them into the kitchen. After depositing them in the sink, he returns to the couch. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he is sitting a little closer this time. I can feel the heat radiating from his thigh a mere inches from mine. My hands folded in my lap, I move them to the top of my thighs. His own hands rest at his sides, his fingers tapping the cushion. I stare down at his fingers as they inch closer. I look up and he’s staring at me, lust burning in his eyes.

“You said you weren’t into tech-bros. Are there any other eligible bachelors that have caught your eye lately?”

I blush. “Just one…”

“Anyone I know?”

My cheeks redden. Well, Riley. It’s now or never. He’s already told me how he feels about me. Why not let him know I reciprocate those feelings? He moves his hand to my knee and begins moving his thumb back and forth. My heart thunders. “Yeah. You.”

His smile fades as he moves even closer to me on the couch. “Riley. You should tell me goodnight.”

My breath hitches. “Why?”

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to kiss you.”

“What if I want you to kiss me?”

Before he can answer, he leans over and takes my head in his hands and presses his lips to mine. My shock turns to awe as I part my lips, inviting his tongue between them. I crawl forward into his lap, straddling his waist and wrap my arms around his neck. I press my chest to his, feeling his heart beating fast. My head tilts to the side, and he moves his mouth down my neck, sucking on my pulse. I tug his earlobe between my teeth and he growls, kissing and sucking harder. I’m probably going to have a hickey tomorrow, but who cares?

He moves his mouth back to my lips and his hands slip beneath the hem of my shirt, slowly moving up my back. I can feel his dick straining under his dress pants as I press my core against his crotch. He groans in my mouth, the sound shooting straight to my pussy.

Oh my god, this is so wrong. But why does it feel so right? His hands fumble with the clasps on my bra. I reach between us and begin tugging on his belt. The heat between us is blazing and I can’t stop myself. Finally, he breaks our kiss.

“We have to stop.”

“What? Why?”

He swallows. “You know why.”

“Is it because of the kids? If you’re worried about them interrupting us, we could go to your bedroom.”

He groans and ohmygod it does things to me. “It’s not that…”

“You don’t want to?” I ask.

“Of course I do. I’ve wanted to since the moment you walked in here that first day for your interview. I look at you and all I want to do is take you all over this apartment. You can obviously feel it,” he says. My eyes dart down between us to the evident bulge in his pants, and I bite my lip. His eyes follow mine; his expression amused. Then, his face goes serious again. “But my divorce isn’t final yet, and I can’t risk anything that would put your job or the kids’ livelihood in jeopardy. Besides, you don’t want to get involved with me. Divorced Dad lusting after the hot nanny. I’m like a walking cliche.”

I sigh, then nod. His words are the same ones that Hana has been preaching since Day One. And the same ones that Olivia spewed at me that night at the Double Tappe. Maybe I should start listening to these people. Not to mention, the kids are upstairs. And Madeleine could walk in at any moment. I slide off his lap and rise to my feet. “I should probably go.” I make my way to the kitchen and start gathering my things. He stands to adjust himself, then follows me.

“I’m sorry if I took advantage of you.”

I roll my eyes. “Liam. You didn’t take advantage of me.”

“You’re my kids’ nanny. I’m only trying to protect you.”

I open my mouth to respond when the ding of the elevator cuts through the silence in the room, and Madeleine emerges. She notices me standing in the kitchen, hastily packing up my tote. “You’re still here?”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Liam snaps. “You could have called her. Or me.”

Madeleine shoots daggers at him. “I got held up in a meeting. I didn’t have my phone on me. And besides, you’re here to relieve her, so what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that you shirked your responsibilities. You’re supposed to be here to relieve Riley in the evening so she doesn’t have to stay here all night. They’re your kids, not hers.”

She laughs, although there is no humor in her voice. “What does she care? She’s getting paid regardless.”

“She doesn’t get paid to raise our kids for us. That’s our job,” he growls.

Needing to get away from this situation ASAP, I grab my tote bag and scurry out of the kitchen. “Uhh...I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you guys Monday morning.”

As they argue, I make my way to the elevator and scramble inside. Once the doors close, I text Mara and tell her to meet me downstairs. I reach up and touch my lips, still feeling them tingle from his kiss. Did we really just do that? What would have happened if he hadn’t stopped it? I can’t stop thinking about that kiss as the elevator takes me to the ground floor. His hands up my shirt, the taste of his lips, the scent of his cologne. The way his dick rubbed against my center as I straddled him. My body is desperate for release, and all I can think about is how much he clearly wanted it too.

I should have known that hormones + alcohol = bad things. Although it was nice that he was a gentleman and restrained himself, part of me is angry with him for working me up like that, just to shut it down. Hello, lady blue balls. My name is Riley. The elevator reaches the lobby and I’m greeted by the sight of Mara waiting for me. She follows me out to the waiting cab and holds the door as I get in. Once I’m in, she taps the hood of the car and it pulls away from the curb. As the cab rolls down the street, I lean my head back on the seat and inhale, my emotions alternating between anger and humiliation.

Shit is going to be really awkward come Monday.

#something domestic #trr au #trr fanfic #playchoices fanfic #riley brooks #liam rhys #nanny au #nazariolahela fanfic

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ladynestaarcheron · 5 years

Text

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Six

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79)

hey guys, so sorry for the delay! I had to stay on base for a few extra days and then after that I couldn’t update for a while. but here’s chapter six! and thank you all so much for your kind words (about my writing and about my not being able to post on time, you are all too sweet!!)

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October 6 - Year of

Once again, Cassian could tell she’d been out of the house as he returned. Not so much in the center of the camp, farther out, but her scent was there, intangible from the mountainside. He could almost pretend it was there to greet him as he came back; like she was there to greet him.

Whispers of rebellion were now wide-spread throughout the Illyrian camps, and the main perpetrators were growing louder, more confident. There people were still recovering from Hybern and they were seriously preparing for a civil war.

No one wanted to believe it was inevitable, and at Rhys’ orders, they were still doing everything in their power to appease the masses without compromising his control over them. It wasn’t an easy balance. Cassian didn’t want to see another war, didn’t want more of his own people dead, even if they deserved it...but sometimes he thought it was the only way. He ached for a war, sometimes. He knew the damage, the trauma, the pain, and yet...it brought silence, afterwards. Relative peace.

It felt like the only way, sometimes. Especially for someone like him. He didn’t have any special way with words, he had no diplomatic skills. War was the only thing he was truly good at.

His thoughts turned a different sort of weary as he entered his house. As usual, he went directly to Nesta’s room.

“Nesta?” he called, knocking on the door. “I’m back.”

No answer, of course. He didn’t really expect one, but he still could taste a bitter regret and disappointment in his mouth.

And it was too much, what with the rebels in the other camps still fresh in his mind.

“I’m exhausted,” he said to her. “I assume you’ve had just as much a busy week as I. I’m going to eat and sleep. Join me...for dinner. If you’re hungry.”

He wasn’t giving up on her, he told himself. He was just tired after a long week. But he would try again tomorrow, when he was better rested. He settled slightly, his heart set on the matter.

Even as it sank when he saw the unopened chocolate bar in the kitchen.

---

October 21 - 4 years after

Nesta knows he’s been waiting at her door, because he knocks the moment she and Nicky reach the bottom stair.

Nicky bounds off to the front hall. “I want to say hello!”

Nesta sighs and follows him. Even though she’s slightly dreading his return, she can’t help but smile a little as she sees Nicky reach his pudgy little hand up and open the door. He lets out a gasp of excitement when he sees his father.

Cassian bends down to pick him up, grinning widely at him as he does so. His smile softens slightly when he sees Nesta.

“Hey,” he says.

Nesta turns. “I’ve got to get breakfast ready.”

There’s a surge of emotions inside her when she sees him holding Nicky, and it’s nothing she wants to think about. So she sets off preparing food for the children, pointedly fixed on the various berry jams on the counter when Cassian walks in with Nicky.

He doesn’t take the hint. “So, how have you been?”

“Fine.” She doesn’t look at him.

“Are you going to work today?”

“Yes.”

She can see Nicky squirm a bit in his arms, so he sets him down in his chair.

“So...they go to nursery?”

“Mm-hmm,” she says. “Here you go, Nicky,” she says, placing his breakfast in front of him.

“...and I do want to go there all the time,” Avery babbles to Ollie as they walk in together. She looks up and coos, “Appa!”

Nesta bites her lower lip as the two of them scramble against their father’s legs. They shriek in delight as he lifts them up (both at the same time--Nesta’s never been able to do that). He laughs with them, kissing their foreheads and helping them into their seats.

“You’re coming with us to nursery?” Avery says.

Cassian turns around to look at her, slightly unsure. “I’m...coming with them...?”

“To nursery,” Nesta says.

“Oh. Er, well...am I?” He tries to sound casual, but his voice gives away his anxiety.

“All right,” Nesta says nonchalantly, shrugging a little. She feels anything but, though. Cassian will walk with them to nursery. People will see. People will talk.

“And then...you’ll go to work?”

“Yes,” she says, not looking at him again, busying herself with the food. Because he can’t come along with her to work. Adil doesn’t know. Zeyn doesn’t know, and Zeyn deserves better.

For everything he’s done, all the years he’s been there for them, he deserves at least the truth.

---

October 12 - Year of

He knew something was wrong even before he woke up, but he was too groggy to figure out what it was as he stirred.

And then he jolted awake, realizing what it was: Nesta was gone.

He tore through his room before he even registered the full impact of the fact, throwing open his door, thundering down the hall, and then throwing open hers.

Bed empty. Slept in, clearly. A book on her bedside table, marked by a pressed flower in the middle. A coat folded over on the chair. Those were the only touches of her in the room. It’s still as drab and empty as it was when he told her it was hers.

Her scent was still strong. She hadn’t been gone long.

There was no trace of anyone else in the room, in the house. So she hadn’t been taken, then. Not stolen from under him, not the start of the inevitable war. She had...left.

Slightly calmer, he dressed quickly and set out to look for her.

He soared high enough not to be seen for anyone who wasn’t looking, low enough to still follow her tracks. Her presence grew stronger farther out of the camp, and he circled around the outskirts a few times before spotting her--there. Her braided crown shone in the dim light of the dawn, as she carried what looked to be a relatively heavy crate out of a shop.

He knew that shop, though, didn’t he? It belonged to that female, the clipped one...Emerie.

And then she was there, too, at the door of the shop, calling Nesta’s name and saying something to her.

He watched them, still hidden out of sight. They weren’t friends, clearly. But they were...cordial.

Was Nesta...working there?

“Busy week, indeed,” he said to himself.

Feyre would find this just as interesting as he did, undoubtedly.

He only felt the slightest bit of guilt as he turned toward the direction of Velaris, but it was nothing that didn’t fade with the chill of the wind and the hope that her sister would know what to do.

---

October 21 - 4 years after

With the children gone, there is a silence between them. A lifetime ago, for a short time, they would sit together quietly: she reading, he perhaps going over reports, perhaps watching her, both content enough to just be close. It had been as close to peace Nesta thought she would ever be allowed to feel, with that living thing inside her finally at rest in his comforting presence.

This is not that silence. This is awkward, a vacuum, something missing and wrong. She doesn't bother to break it, because she doesn't think anything she can say will be better.

Evidently, he disagrees. "So, do you like working at the bookshop?"

Small talk. Wonderful. "Yes."

"Do you get to read a lot?"

"I read everything I shelve."

"And that's...?"

"I'm the archivist for romance novels and anything human-authored."

Cassian glances at her, smiling a bit. "That's good. That's good for you." He huffs a small laugh.

She remembers the day she realized his constant teasing did not bother her anymore, when it no longer sounded mocking, but light-hearted. She had secretly categorized his laughs. This one was the one she heard mostly when she was half-asleep, something in her position amusing him, but he tried not to be too loud so as not to wake her.

He was such a force of life, even when surrounded by bloodshed. He laughed all the time, back then.

"Do you know all the other archivists?" he asks her, unknowingly breaking off her wandering into memories.

"I do," she says, slowly, carefully.

"Are you...friends?"

Now Nesta looks at him. "Yes."

"Well...good. Good that you...I mean...." He stops himself and starts over. "I'm glad you have friends here."

Nesta stops suddenly, just outside Sugar Books. She isn't quite sure what possesses her, but she turns to him and says, "Did you know my sisters came to my house?"

Cassian's eyes widen. "I--yes. Yes, I knew that."

"Did you--" Nesta cuts herself off. She doesn't want to hear the answer.

Coward, she thinks to herself. And she feels such anger at him. Just one morning here and already he's ruined the calm of her mind. She feels confused again, and that makes her feel stupid, which makes her even angrier.

"Go back to the inn," she tells him. "I'll pick you up later when it's time to collect them from nursery. Around four."

"Nesta--"

"You can go now."

And she turns on her heel and walks inside the store.

He doesn't follow.

Good, she tells herself. But then it doesn't matter, because Adil's there, and he knows. She can tell by the look in his eyes.

“That’s him?” he says to her. His tone is hushed so only she can hear it.

She nods slightly.

“You want me to make him leave?”

“No,” she whispers. “It’s not like...it’s fine. He wants to...know them. And you know, Adil...” she hesitates. “I never exactly wrote...it doesn’t really matter, because he didn’t read my letters anyway, but--”

“He didn’t read them?”

“No, but that’s--well, that’s not...” Nesta takes a deep breath.

“I know you’re going to do what’s best for your children, but don’t forget about yourself.”

She meets his eye uneasily.

“Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want Zeyn to know.” She tries to keep the guilt out of her voice. “Not yet, at least. Miri knows, though.”

Adil looks at her, surprised. “Is that what you’re worried about? Zeyn?”

Nesta purses her lips. “I’m worried about a lot.”

“Well, don’t mind Zeyn,” he says. “You’ve got Ava, Nicky, and Ollie and yourself to focus on. Nothing else. Zeyn shouldn’t be in the equation.”

“You’re too hard on him,” Nesta says. Adil was always slightly cold towards Zeyn where Nesta was concerned. She never liked to think about how that made her feel.

“I just mean...yes, it might be...beneficial for them to know their father. Controlling that takes priority. Zeyn should know that.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You won’t. He should understand they’re more important.”

“Well...I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive.”

Adil sighs. “Nesta. You can’t give him what he wants.” He ignores her slight flinch. “Don’t make a mistake where it matters--your own wellbeing, and theirs.”

Nesta bites the inside of her cheek. Miri was soft and lovely and warm, always so comforting. Adil was more like her. Pragmatic. Logical. Without the burning fire inside, but she managed to keep that under control nowadays, anyway.

“You’re right,” she says.

He smiles a bit at her, rare for him. Reserved mostly for Miri. For her children, too.

“You don’t need to worry if you just stay focused,” he says. “Remember I’m here.”

And he leaves for his office, leaving Nesta at the front desk, waiting for Zeyn to arrive with her coffee in a determined stance.

---

October 12 - Year of

Feyre loosened the Illyrian armor she wore on her thighs and tossed them onto her bed, sighing as she did so. It was Rhys who was in control in Illyria, attempting peace talks with the camp lords and reminding the rebels who still sat on the Night throne, and so the task of quelling the fears of the leaders of Velaris fell to her.

Amongst the common citizens, there were only rumors, but the palace governors and the like had their own means of gathering intelligence, and they came to her with demands of confirmation of a brimming civil war.

She had done a decent enough job of calming them, but only today, and only barely. So much of war was bureaucratic meetings, and she wasn’t good at that part, not like Rhys was.

She missed him. She wanted quiet. Didn’t they deserve quiet, after all they’d been through?

Of course, just as the thought ran through her mind, she heard a loud thud from the floor below her.

Cassian. Currently storming through her house.

Her heartbeat quickened as she hurried to meet him, instantly fearing the worst. Nesta had disappeared. She’d gotten into trouble. Or worst, rebels had decided to make their anger with Rhys known through her.

And that would be all her fault. What was she supposed to tell Elain? She would lose both of them.

“What’s happened to her?” she said as she saw him.

But...he didn’t look anxious or upset, and certainly nothing like the manic mess he had been when Hybern’s soldiers had had her in their clutches. He looks...unsure.

“Nothing. I mean, something, but she’s fine. I think. She’s...” he hesitated. “She’s gotten a job.”

Feyre blinked.

A job?

Nesta?

“She...she what?”

“Yeah, at a shop. Outerwear and the like. A female named Emerie owns it. It was her father’s, but she says it’s hers now.”

Feyre turned her head to look out the window towards the Sidra, shock fading slightly, but still a bit dazed. “She is good with numbers, I guess?”

Cassian nodded. “I know. I just...she hasn’t told me. I saw her working there, that’s how I know. She didn’t tell me. She doesn’t...talk to me.” He paused. “I didn’t know she talked to anyone,” he admitted.

“Hmm,” Feyre said. “Well. That’s...that’s good, isn’t it? A job is...good.”

“Right,” Cassian said slowly. “Good. So, I should...?” He looked at her questioningly.

“Erm, no?” Feyre said, and she sounded completely unaware of the right answer. Then she affirmed, “No. Don’t do anything. She can keep it to herself if she wants to, for now. She’ll come to us when she’s ready.”

She hoped, at least.

---

October 21 - 4 years after

She’s managed to keep up appearances at work all day. Miri shoots her concerned glances, but she pretends she doesn’t notice. She nods along to Zeyn and Leila’s chattering, she snaps at Maz when he annoys her too much, she fixes the spines on old books. She pretends all is normal, and it goes by quickly.

“I’ve got to go now,” she says to Zeyn, fifteen minutes earlier than she would normally leave. “I’m taking the children to the healer.”

“All of them?” he asks, slightly surprised. “You don’t want me to take two?”

“No,” she says.

“Shall I come for dinner?”

“They’ll be tired,” she lies easily. “I’m just going to put them to bed.”

“Well,” he says, and his voice turns playful as he takes a step closer. “I could come after they go to bed.”

Nesta automatically tightens the shields on her mind, like she always does when she thinks something she shouldn’t. “I’ll be tired,” she sighs.

“All right, then. Can I meet you for breakfast?”

Nesta finishes gathering up her things. “Sure,” she says. “Breakfast. I’ve got to go now.”

He leans down and gives her a kiss on her cheek. “See you tomorrow, then!”

She smiles slightly at him and walks back out to the front room. It fades quickly off her face when she sees who is standing outside.

"I thought I told you to wait for me to pick you up," she hisses as she quickly walks to him, lowering her voice so no one can hear.

"I know, I just figured it'd be easier...I brought coffee." His voice is slightly hopeful as he holds up the cups in his hand. But the ire in her eyes doesn't fade, and his face falls. "I'm...sorry, Nesta. I didn't realize...."

"What was our deal?" she snaps. "What did we say?"

"But this has nothing to do with the children--"

"You don't make the rules!"

"Why are you so angry?"

"Because you aren't listening to me! You can just show up at my work! I have--" Nesta stops herself at the feel of Zeyn's touch on her shoulder.

She hadn't even noticed he was approaching, so focused on Cassian and their argument.Her anger fades and something inside of her slips downward when she sees his eyes fixed on Zeyn's hand upon her.

"Nesta," he says. "Who's this?" His tone is casual, but he feels tense beside her.

Nesta looses a breath. Cassian doesn't look at her, but he does meet Zeyn's gaze. He doesn't answer.

"This is Zeyn," she says to him. "He's...an archivist. Zeyn, this is Cassian. My children's father."

Zeyn inhales sharply and Cassian's eyes go immediately to her.

Nesta looks up at Zeyn. "He's here for the day. To see them."

Cassian stretches out his arm, unfolding his wings as he does. A clear marker that he is, in fact, her triplets' father--as if his eyes and hair and skin did not show it enough.

Zeyn shakes it once, his other arm still on Nesta.

“We...have to go pick them up now,” she says. She doesn’t want to look at Zeyn. She lies to him so much, but she justifies it all the time. This feels different. Dirty.

But he’s Zeyn. So if he’s angry or hurt, he doesn’t show it. He nods and says, ever cheerful. “Tell them I’ll see them tomorrow.” He bends down to kiss her, on her cheek, like earlier.

It could be romantic. It could be brotherly. And she knows he’s done it because he doesn’t want to upset her, doesn’t want to make things awkward or uncomfortable. For her.

“I will,” she says. But he’s already walking away, and she’s not sure he hears.

---

November 3 - Year of

Nesta didn’t know why he didn’t say anything to her about her job, because she knew he knew, but she was glad of it, nonetheless.

She had felt his presence in that strange way she always could a few times around the shop, hovering out of sight. He never came in, and he didn’t say anything to her when he was sitting in the living room and she walked through the front door.

It was last week. She knew he knew that she was leaving the house by then, spending nearly all day out, but they had never discussed it. Well, of course she had never discussed it--but he had never brought it up while talking to her through her door.

But her entering the house and them locking eyes was the first time they were both forced to acknowledge it.

She hadn’t expected him to be there. Her mind was wandering on her way back, her head scattered with numbers from a late shipment. She only remembered she was avoiding him when she saw the look of surprise on his face.

He recovered quickly, of course. His face smoothed over in a smirk. “Nice day?”

She rolled her eyes before she remembered she wasn’t supposed to show any emotion at all--least of all irritation, which seemed to be his favorite on her--but no matter, she was already in her room before he had the chance to say anything.

Since then she could feel him around the shop more. Almost every day. He never came in, and she didn’t even think he ever touched ground, but he was there. Perhaps he couldn’t even see her, perhaps he just felt her the same way she could him: like something had slipped inside her, between her skin and her flesh, entwining itself between her sinew and teasing every one of her nerves. Like she could never truly be alone again.

She felt him then, as she and Emerie were preparing to close the shop. She was going over the books on last time while Emerie re-shelved some sweaters a few females had decided not to buy.

Her jaw clenched slightly. She could feel him in her ribcage, sometimes. It made it hard for her to breathe.

Drinking used to help ease the sensation, and now she couldn’t have that. It was times like these she wanted a glass of something most.

But at least she had something else to concentrate on. The numbers.

“It’s him again, isn’t it?” Emerie said suddenly.

Nesta looked up. The two females mostly tolerated each other, cordial at best, but mostly indifferent. They weren’t particularly friendly and they didn’t discuss things they didn’t have to. “I beg your pardon?” Nesta said, voice icy.

“The General Commander,” she said, not backing down from her tone or stare.

Nesta flinched when she heard his title. She decided to ignore her and went back to the books in front of her.

“It is. He bothers you. He doesn’t...hurt you, does he?” There was only the barest trace of concern in her voice.

Nesta felt her lip curl. “That’s entirely none of your business.”

Emerie put away the last sweater and took a step closer. “You know, it was my father who ordered my wings clipped.”

Nesta continued writing out her equations, not responding.

“I used to have a cousin. We were close, but I never spoke to him after that.” Emerie’s gaze moved out the window. “He died in the battle of Hybern.”

Nesta ignored her still, but her heart sped up slightly. She did not want to have the conversation.

“I know that...someone...clipped your wings,” she said, and Nesta could feel bile rise up her throat. “Maybe more than once. But you should be careful...before...your cousin dies,” she finished lamely.

Nesta stood up. She stared at Emerie, her face blank. “I’ve finished for tonight. I’m placing in an order for more coats tomorrow.”

She left the shop quickly, her mind and heart racing and her very bones screaming for a drink. And with no numbers left to distract her till morning, Nesta knew she was in for a long night.

---

Chapter Seven

#like pristine glass #acotar fanfic #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #you guys I am so tired #I am coming off the night shift and I only slept 3 hours before that and I was awake for like a day before that so #over the course of 48 hours I have slept like six #but I updated!!! for you!!!#and now I am going to eat and then crash #good night (it's noon here but that's night shift for you)#(I call it the vampire schedule)

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cchellacat · 5 years

Text

Thank You for Your Service pt5

gif by @spacemansam

Darcy/Bucky

Warning: Possible trigger for assault, although it’s brief.

Darcy doesn't care at first where her feet are taking her, she just walks, head down, through the crowd, she just needs some space. The street is brightly lit, people out, alone or in groups. |She steadfastly ignores the couples holding hands and looking like they were walking off the pages of some romance novel.

She's always loved the city at night. The rush less hurried, the real people of New York out and about living life, being honest and real. The sound of the cars driving by, the occasional sound of a horn, the cursing as people walk out in front of traffic, the colorful language of the natives.

This is her home, it's where she feels grounded and safe. It's part of what she hates about being cooped up all the time. She misses the freedom to walk out and forget the world and just live in the moment of the city. Breath in the smog and not think about where her feet take her, find some little hole in the wall that serves good food or wine, or both.

She keeps walking, missing the way her feet lead her off the main thoroughfare and down a street less brightly lit, misses the figure that's been following her since she left the tower. She's wandering aimlessly, trying to figure out what she should do next, her head going round in circles thinking of him.

Darcy’s honestly just so tired, she’s been on edge for weeks. The constant ache of wanting what she's told she can’t have, intruding on her dreams, filling the spaces in the hours while she works. Their encounter in the car had been fantastic, earth shattering, mind blowing… fuck, it had felt like more than just sex, it had shaken her to the core.

The feeling of connection that had formed between them, him filling her, making her whole, it had made her think he’d changed his mind. Had she misread something? Darcy casts the thought aside, what was the point in second guessing? All this wallowing and wondering is what she’s trying to get away from, nothing was going right in her life recently.

Every decision she made seemed to make things worse, not better. It would be easy to blame it on Tony or Jane or even a host of other outside factors but the truth was that she’s been making impulsive decisions, not taking the time to think things through. She just needed a time out, a moment to think, to re-evaluate what she was doing. When she spots the bar there is a split second of hesitation before she quickly makes her way inside. She’ll think about it tomorrow, tonight she needed to drink and forget, just for a minute.

The man stops and watches as she crosses into the pub, waiting before slowly following her inside.

Jackson Heights

Bucky watches the place from the security feed and sees nothing to indicate there’s anyone currently inside. He checks his weapons and the team all agree on a plan of action before they leave, closing in on the small apartment.

It’s in a bad neighbourhood, with a high crime rate . The apartment block is run down, graffiti covers the walls, a few gang signs and tags take prominence. The stairwell smells of stale beer and the scent of weed hangs heavy in the damp corridors. The report indicated Keane might have been here for as long as two weeks. It leaves a deep feeling of apprehension in his gut, knowing the man who had hurt her has been so close for so long. He doesn’t know what to expect, what they might find, but nothing could have prepared him for the revelation waiting inside.

They get in quick and quiet, there’s no resistance as they enter. All the rooms are cleared quickly and Bucky is left to stare at the wall in the main room.

There are hundreds of pictures of he and Darcy, taken all over New York, going right back to the time he first came to the tower, covering every wall of the room.

The first of them he recognised with a growing coldness, shots taken of them in the damn library, Darcy in his lap while he kissed her. How the fuck had Keane gotten so close, so near, without Bucky knowing?

Icy dread fills him, there are so many taken right outside the tower, Keane had to be following them every time they left… the angles of the shots, how close they were? He had to have an excellent camera, something with a telescopic lens, but the type of equipment would be noticed, he’d stick out like a sore thumb, you couldn’t not be noticed carrying a camera like that around, not unless….

Horrifying realisation sweeps through him. He’d been so fucking stupid, the one place he didn't look, the only people he ignored. The only people in New York that people pretended weren’t there, that got shunned and pushed out the way if they came too close. He was posing as a fucking photographer, one of the many paparazzi who hung out around the Tower, waiting for Stark or one of the Avengers. Fuck... and they had been there tonight. Tonight when he had taken her to the restaurant and after, when he’d been seconds away from telling her everything before she’d went inside…

It’s only then, standing in the messy apartment, her face staring at him from the walls that he begins to question what he saw tonight, too distracted by the call to double check….

He’s striding from the apartment with shouted instructions and jogging down the stairs, phone clamped to his ear, ringing her number, it was going straight to voicemail. He ignores the shout from behind him and keeps going, tapping the com and being put through to the tower.

“Jarvis? Tell me Darcy is in the Tower?”

“I’m sorry Sergeant Barnes, Miss Lewis left the Tower with you tonight but did not return. Would you like me to inform Sir?”

“Not yet Jarvis, can you ping Darcy’s phone for me?”

“I’m sorry sir, but I can't get a location, her phone appears to be turned off.”

“Try her tracer. She’s meant to wear it, I know she had it on tonight, she was wearing the necklace Stark gave her.”

“I have a last known location, three blocks from the tower, a bar called Oakley’s.”

He grabs his bike and mounts, not bothering with the helmet and rides back to the city, breaking every speed limit and trying to coordinate by com with Hill. He needed a clear path back and couldn’t be delayed by some well meaning cop.

Traffic seems to be against him, even with every light miraculously in his favour he feels the seconds ticking by, knowing each one brings her closer to danger. He’s blaming himself, he should have checked, made sure she had actually gone inside, fuck. He’d had his eyes off her for a few seconds. Had she been taken? Or had she just walked off? The tracer said she was at the bar, but that didn't mean anything, not with how much intel Keane might have picked up from watching them so closely. The bar sounded familiar though, then it strikes him why. He knew that bar, knew exactly which one, the same one they had met in.

What were the chances she had gone there,that she would still be there when he arrived? He gunned the motor again and overtook a red buick, the driver blaring his horn and shouting curses at him as he sped past. Almost there, another few blocks and he’d have her.

Oakley's Bar

Darcy takes her usual seat at the bar and orders a scotch and ice. It seems like the sort of drink she needs right now, something hard and biting. Something that will hold her up later for whatever speech her erstwhile mancrush has cooked up this time. She has no doubt he’ll follow her, he always does.

She sips the drink and ignores the other patrons at the bar, she’s not in the mood for some bullshit come on or a good time. She came here to drink away the pain and the feelings and the angst.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just any guy though, was he? God, if it had been anyone else she would have been long over the whole thing but he was different. She knocks back the drink and signals for a second.

She’d been sitting right here the night they first met. She’d spotted him nearly a half hour before Ian had turned up but the guy had put off such a keep away vibe that she’d done her best to reel back the flirting she had wanted to do and kept to herself. It had only been Ian’s presence that had made her throw away caution and good manners, instead, begging for the handsome man’s help. When he’d slipped his arm about her waist and scared Ian off she’d been so surprised, but right from that first touch she’d felt it. What was it all those sappy writers would say? She felt a spark? His touch was electric? It would be funny if it weren’t so true.

Darcy sighs into her drink, drains it and signals the barkeep for another. She’d only vaguely aware of someone slipping into the seat next to her. Ignores the first two attempts to engage her in conversation with an icy glare. The third time the guy touches her arm and she snaps at him.

Across the bar a shadowy figure watches her from the corner, shrouded in darkness, Darcy never notices him. He keeps his gaze trained on her as she argues with the son of a senator.

When she gets off the stool and shrugs her jacket back on, he follows her.

She’s out the door and half way down the sidewalk when someone grabs her, pulling her up short. The grip is tight on her arm and she can smell the alcohol and stale cologne as her assailant jerks her against him.

“Let me go!”

She wrenches her arm from his grip, it’s the same guy who had been trying to chat her up for hours. The guy is average in every way to her eyes, although, had she met him before she finished college she might have thought him cute. It seemed though, that knowing and meeting gods and super soldiers had skewed her idea of attractive. He’s lean, dark hair, almost pretty if it weren’t for the mean glint in his eye and the twist of his lips.

“Come on baby, don’t you know who I am?”

“No, I don’t, nor do I care, I said no you jack ass now back off!”

She turns again to leave, walking quickly, not looking back and for the first time, reconsidering her ill fated idea to leave the protection she’d been given and ignored. It’s not like Bucky not to show up, to not know where she is. Even as she had decided to walk away from the tower tonight, she’d still expected him to turn up, instead it seemed by some quirk of fate she'd actually slipped past him, at the worst possible time.

Footsteps echo behind her as she speeds up, cursing the fancy heels which are slowing her escape.

The footsteps come closer and she digs in her pocket for the small hand held taser Tony had insisted she carry with her at all times. She can feel it, the fear tightening her belly, her shoulders ridged as she half runs, she knows she’s not getting away but she’d hoped if she could make it another block to where the crowds were busier she’d get help.

When it happens, she freezes for a split second, the harsh grip clamping around the back of her neck, terror swallows her senses. All she can feel is the vice dragging her back by her neck, she drops, bringing up her shoulders and ducking but he grabs her hair wrenching her head back even as she falls to her knees. The yelp she lets out is high and clear, but she swings her fist up as she cranes her neck to see him bending over her, feels the sudden release of her hair and the swirl of satisfaction as her knuckles throb from the nose she’s just broken before she fires the taser. He yells and curses at her, his hand swinging and catching her with a back handed blow even as he stumbles back, falling to the ground unconscious, it throws her to the pavement, her head slamming into concrete and then there is the sound of running and blue lights and she dizzily becomes aware of the commotion of people.

Bucky arrives at the bar, jumping from the bike and striding through the doors. The place is small, it’s the work of seconds to ascertain that she’s gone. Before he can cross the room to question the bartender his phone rings and Stark's face lights up the screen of the smartphone. He barks out his name by way of hello.

“Barnes, do you want to tell me why I just got a call from my lawyer telling me my daughter just got arrested and is being held at the 17th Precinct?”

Stark’s voice becomes louder and higher as he questions him, Bucky can hear the stress and anger in his tone.

“I’m on my way, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” he’s remounting the bike and gunning the engine even as Stark reams him out.

“Seriously? When I get there you had better have a damn good explanation as to why she was alone.”

Bucky sighs and pushes the bike out again, turning it south. If she’s in police custody at least she’s safe. He's not sure what he'll do when he sees her though, the relief of knowing where she is wars with the helpless anger he could still feel burning in his gut when he realised she had slipped off.

17th Precinct.

Happy draws up outside the precinct, it's telling that Tony doesn’t wait for him to open the door, instead letting himself out and rushing inside, phone clamped to his ear as he shouts at his lawyers to get their asses down there.

Happy’s meant to be retired, but following Tony and watching his back has become ingrained in him. He could head home now, they’d only been out for dinner when Tony got the call. Maybe it’s the habits of a life time but he takes up his familiar place at Tony's side.

Happy does his best to keep the reporters swarming at bay and away from Tony but the story is already spreading. It’s the wrong story of course but its still damaging.

His phone is giving off constant notifications from media outlets, all seeming to be ecstatic to trail out the same narrative.

“Stark’s Strumpet Shocks Senator's Son”.

His old friend is fuming, and why wouldn’t he be? The only question left right now wasn’t if Tony would announce the truth, that Darcy was a Stark, it was what he’d do to the people responsible for the slander.

Happy slips his hand into his pocket and takes out his com unit, he’d kept it on him for the last month, reluctant to give it up for some reason. With a grim smile he tucks it into his ear and taps it twice, the comforting voice of Jarvis coming across the line, and he gets to work securing the area.

He places himself in front of the doors just as the familiar roar of Barnes’s Harley drawing up causes the swarm to turn their attention away from him.

The ex assassin is grim faced as he approaches and Happy tamps down the urge to step back. This is not how his evening was meant to go, dealing with pissed off superheroes was never meant to be part of his life and his plans for retirement were fast going out the window. How could he go now, when Tony and his family still needed him? And he’d missed the kid, decision made he squares his shoulders and meets Barnes with a confident nod.

Bucky parks the bike behind Stark's custom Audi. The car’s a tank in it’s own right, reinforced bullet proof glass and if he’s right the vehicle was more secure than even Fury’s SUV had been.

He pulls Happy to one side before entering the station.

“Keane’s been in the area, keep sharp. There’s evidence to suggest he’s been posing as a pap.”

Happy’s eyes widen but he nods, keeping his gaze from wandering to the crowd of reporters and paparazzi as he gives Barnes a short rundown of the situation.

“I’ve got Willis and Shaw posted at the other entrances and Friday has control of all CCTV in a five block area, you better get in there, Tony’s losing his goddamn mind.”

Bucky nods and slips through the doors.

He spots Stark almost immediately, arguing with the chief of police. He crosses the foyer and stands to one side of Stark who gives him a sharp nod.

“I want to see her.”

“As I’ve told you Mr Stark, she’s in an interview room now. The Senator is pressing charges. She discharged an illegal weapon. That can't be ignored.”

“And I’ve told you, the weapon she had isn’t a taser, it’s a high voltage anti assault device and she wouldn’t have used it if she wasn't being threatened. My lawyers will be here shortly, until they are I want her personal security with her.”

Bucky scans the room as Stark continues to argue then discreetly slips away, heading to where Darcy is most likely being held. Stark covers for him smoothly, turning the chiefs attention away from Bucky by calling out to his freshly appeared attorney.

Darcy sits in the interview room, ignoring the one way mirror and the ugly reflection it holds. She’s a mess, her make-up is smeared and it can’t hide the purpling bruise rising beneath the skin on her left cheek. They gave her an ice pack for her head but little else. They’ve had her here for about half an hour although it feels much longer. The dizziness thankfully passed quickly, she doesn’t think she has a concussion, but her face feels stiff and achy.

She spent the time since they put her in here worrying over what Tony, Bucky and no doubt Jane would say. She should have stayed in the bar and called for a car, she should never have left Bucky like that, she should have gone inside. “If only” and “what if”, seemed to be going in circles in her head. They’d given her one phone call and she’d done the only thing she could think of and called Tony’s lawyer, Harvey Specter. He’d told her to say nothing till he got there, so she’d done as he said and sat tight.

The door opening startles her more than it should and she raises a hand to her heart in fright then locks eyes with Bucky and the tears she had been holding back since they put her here quickly rushed to the surface along side a stifled sob of anguish she couldn’t keep in.

She can see he’s angry, for about a second, then he gets a good look at her and the frown dissolves into worry. She doesn’t register standing but she must have because the next thing she knows she’s in his arms and she feels safe again.

He crushes her to him, pressing her body to his and holding her tightly. Darcy curls into his hold, clinging to him even as his hands move over her, she represses the hysterical giggle bubbling up. Even now, he’s checking for breaks or injuries, his hand moving up into her hair and finding the nasty bump caused by her brief contact with the ground.

“Darcy.. Baby doll, fuck, what happened? Are you alright?”

She can’t answer, just shakes her head and burrows into his chest. It’s not like her, she knows that, but the last few hours have drained her of all her defenses. There’s nothing left for her to hide behind or draw strength from, the only real thing in her world in that instant is him. Solid and real and providing the anchor she needs.

Bucky holds her up, he can feel she’s barely standing on her own. The bruise on her face looks bad, probably worse than it is, but he worries anyway, especially when he discovers the goose egg on the back of her head. He manages to get her to look up at him, checking her eyes to make sure she’s not concussed, they’re full of unshed tears, making the deep blue of her irises sparkle in the dim light.

She’d crumpled like wet tissue when she saw him, this isn’t the girl he knows, this isn’t the Darcy’s he’s seen tackle things head on. Whatever had happened tonight has spooked her.

He soothes her as best he can, whispering reassurances into her hair and pressing kisses to her brow. He can feel her shaking, the race of her heartbeat, it’s an almost crippling reminder of her fragility, that as strong as she wants people to think she is, she is still as vulnerable as anyone else.

“I’m sorry, I just… I … Bucky I’m sorry…”

“Hey, no… Doll, we’ll talk about it tomorrow. I don’t know why you went off like you did, but it can wait. I’m just glad you’re safe. Can you tell me what happened?”

She does so in halted steps, explains about the guy bothering her at the bar, about him following her. He wants to hunt the little punk down and teach him a lesson, still might if he ever crosses path with the guy. The only relief he has is that it wasn’t Keane. That’s something else he has to worry about, he’s going to draw a line. He can’t continue like this and neither can she. Tomorrow he’s going to explain everything to her and hope she can understand.

He cups her face gently, thumb brushing over her cheekbone.

“You did good Darce, took that asshole down and protected yourself. You’re strong, don’t forget that.”

“I panicked… Bucky I froze… “ she trailed off. “I… when I was in college I was with this guy he…” She broke of, biting her lip suddenly feeling she was about to say too much.

Bucky feels frozen, he knows what she wants to tell him, and he can’t pretend he doesn’t, the words escape him before he can change his mind.

“Hey… I know, Darcy…" he tells her gently. "I know what happened, it’s part of your file.”

Her first instinct is to put space between them. She’s held the memory of her past close, kept it secret. Him knowing what happened to her, it makes her feel exposed and vulnerable. She tries to pull away but he doesn’t let go,

“Why is that on my file it… It was years ago, long before Tony even found out about me.”

“I’m pretty sure Jarvis can find out anything, besides, it’s just SOP for any sort of personal security job Doll, I’m meant to know this stuff, it’s my job.” He’s cursing his own choice of words even before he sees the way her expression twists and she tries to pull away from him again, this time he lets her take that step, knowing somehow that in this she needs to stand alone, on her own strength.

“I am so fucking sick of hearing you tell me that this or that is your job…”

“I know and I’m sorry. Listen, I’m gonna make this right Darcy, just give me till tomorrow. I’m finished wasting time, trying to wait this out. I want to be with you doll, now, right now. Nothing that happened in the past changes how I feel about you. You went through hell and you came out the other side. You’re amazing, you take my breath away. I’m here, when you’re ready I’ll listen, if you never are, I’ll still be here, don’t pull away from me now, please Doll.” He reaches for her, one hand held out, beseeching.

Darcy takes a breath, her eyes straying to that hand, open, offering her everything she’s needed for so long. She sees the honesty in his eyes and places her hand in his, feels herself calming under his touch and breathes. He knows, fuck he probably knows everything. Jarvis was nothing if not thorough and the majority of what had happened with Keane was on public record, the trial had been all over the local papers at the time.

She nods her head and relaxes again into his arms as he draws her back against his strong chest, closing her eyes as his head rests on hers. She can trust him. He would never hurt like that, she knows it already. For all the violence that lies under the surface, Bucky isn’t that kind of guy. He’s one of the most deadly and dangerous men alive, but he’s incapable of hurting her the way Keane had. At his core he was good, honourable and gentle. He maintained the balance inside himself, one of constant self regulation, he had demons, but he controlled them and never the other way around. What had happened to her with Keane had been a crucible, one she had come through stronger than before. Darcy breaths him in, letting his familiar scent calm her.

"I just want to go home Bucky."

"I know doll, your dad's working on it."

Bucky scoops her up and sits on the chair, Darcy safely ensconced in his lap. She snuggles in and he tucks her head under his chin.

"Did you mean it? About us?"

"Every word baby girl."

"Okay."

He presses a kiss to the crown of her head and she feels her eyes begin to shut. He's warm and safe and the way he strokes her arm over and over lulls her into sleep. She doesn't fight it, lets it happen, Bucky's here and he won't leave her.

The first thing that greets Pepper as she hurries through the doors of the station is Tony's voice sharp and cutting. She spots him immediately, waving his hands as he argues with Senator Griffin. The Senator is not one Tony or the Avengers are on good terms with. Phil Coulson and Steve stand off to one side watching the show as are most of the officers and the chief of police, who has wisely stepped back from the two men.

"What's going on?"

Phil smiles warmly.

"Tony just dropped the daughter bombshell. Senator Griffin is currently back tracking. He may loath Tony on principal but he's not stupid. The narrative changing from suspected mistress to innocent daughter means he'll lack all public support if he presses ahead with charges, especially since Tony just threatened to sue his son for the attempted sexual assault of his daughter. It'll look terrible for his constituents and with the election coming up he'll risk his seat if he tries to fight this."

"Harvey?"

"He's dealing with the media fallout, calling a press conference. Griffin’s lawyer walked in, saw Harvey and walked out again, not that I think that's going to matter at this point." Phil gestures towards Tony.

Pepper makes her way over quickly, she knows that expression, Tony knows he's won and is about to press the advantage.

"Senator Griffin." she greets the red faced man before turning to Tony and kissing his cheek.

"Light of my life."

"Tony. Have you seen Darcy yet, is she alright?"

"Barnes is with her. If she was badly hurt he'd have taken her back to the tower already."

"Barnes?" Griffin questions, paling.

"Our head of security and Darcy's boyfriend." Pepper relays smoothly.

"The Winter Soldier?" he asks, patting at his forehead with a handkerchief.

"The very same." Tony's smile is shark like, teeth bared with threat.

"I'll have the charges dropped Mr Stark-"

"Dr Stark." Pepper intones sweetly. "His proper title is Dr Stark, he has four Phds Senator, after all I know how much stock you put in proper etiquette."

"Of course Miss Potts-"

"Mrs Stark." Tony cuts him off, pulling Pepper closer.

"Well, I'm sure we all have other things that warrant our attention right now, if you'll excuse us Senator, I'd like to collect my daughter and take her home."

She feels Tony's grip on her waist tighten as she claims Darcy as hers. It's only right after all, the girl has no mother of her own, hasn't since she was three years old. It's no different than the relationship she's been building with Peter, a son she never expected to have, but she finds the role of mother to them keenly lately, perhaps because she's found out that there will soon be a third Stark heir to join the first two. She hasn't told Tony yet, it's early, only five weeks. They had been trying for years for a baby. She resists the urge to cover her abdomen with her hand and leads Tony away. Perhaps the press conference would be smoothed out with an announcement of that fact. It was also getting harder to hide Peters true role in Tony's life. A united front, a little bit of spin and this whole mess would be forgotten about, the media too busy with chattering about who would be tipped to lead SI in the future. Better that than them hashing and rehashing this incident and speculating on Darcy's role at the Tower.

"That was a nice move, telling that ass that Barnes was her boyfriend."

"He is her boyfriend, or at least there’s something going on with them Tony." Pepper sighs.

"What?"

"Tony... She's been pinning over him for weeks and he looks at her like she hung the moon... Have you really not noticed?"

"They're together?"

"If they're not, they soon will be. Don't mess this up for her Tony, she's old enough to decide who she dates."

"I know that... it's just..."

"I know. But he's not that man anymore and he'll look after her. He's a good man, I think he might make her happy if they get their chance."

Tony nods, thinking it over.

"I guess it wouldn't be the worst match. At least I know she'll be in safe hands, he'll never let her out of his sight after this though."

"That's for them to work out Tony. I think you should give him the chance to hire some enhanced to the security division for protection for Darcy and Peter. They'll need it moire than anyone else."

"Yeah, Agent will have three fits if I poach from his operatives though."

"Well, a little bird told me that Skye and Ward are looking to leave Shield. Who better to hire than Quake and Firestorm? They'd be useful back up for the team too in emergencies."

"An ex hydra Agent and a hacktivist?"

"Ward's family is old money and even though his brother was disgraced, his rescue of the Presidents family during the fall of Shield gives him a very high profile. Same with Skye, she saved Sokovia with her power and helped stop Ultron and capture the Maximov Twins. Having them attached to SI will be positive press for the company and it will give the media something else to chew on after this press conference. I think we should lead with Darcy's identity then Peters, take a few short questions then announce my pregnancy before leaving the podium, it should shock them enough that a coherent narrative of any of this will fall flat."

"Yup, that sound.... Wait... You're pregnant?"

"Yes Tony."

"So the dream I had..."

"Yes Tony. Morgan Stark is on the way."

He knows who’s approaching the door just from the tread of the footsteps. Steve might be able to walk silently but he knows better than to creep up on Bucky, his footfalls are heavy as he approaches the interview room. Bucky shifts Darcy a little on his knee. He’s not exactly told his friend about what had been happening between he and Darcy, not quite ready to explain to Steve what was going on, not when he had still been trying to stubbornly figure it out by himself. The brief knock before the door opened had his hands tighten on the precious cargo in his arms.

Steve’s face peered round the door before he slipped inside, closing it behind him. He gave nothing away in his expression as he took in the way Darcy was curled possessively in his arms.

“We’re ready to go. They’ve dropped the charges and Specter's argued them into scrubbing her record. You want me to take your bike back to the Tower?”

“Yeah, that would be great. Could you let them know we’ll be out in a minute.”

Steve nods and retreats to the door, but turns before opening it.

“I know it’s not any of my business but-”

“It’s not.” Bucky cuts him off a little sharply.

“You can’t keep her in the dark forever.”

Bucky sighs.

“I know. I was planning to tell her in the morning. Right now she needs to rest.”

Steve nods and opens the door, slipping out as silently as he entered.

“Oh, and Buck… I’m happy for you.”

Steve grins that shit eating grin that used to get him in trouble nearly a century ago, before closing the door with a click.

Before he can recover from that, Darcy shifts and he looks down to find her blue eyes staring up at him curiously.

“What did he mean?”

Fuck. This is not where or when he planned to have this conversation.

“About what?” Bucky hopes she didn’t hear Steve’s comment but the look in her eye indicated that he’s hanging on for a miracle.

“Keeping me in the dark.”

“Darce..”

“No. I’ve had enough of people keeping things from me. Just tell me.”

She pushes herself to her feet and he immediately missed the warm weight of her.

“The threat against you, it’s more than Stark and I told you.”

“Bad enough you kept it from me for months?”

“Darce..”

“Well don’t stop now, just tell me. You said you were planning to before this happened, so just spill.”

“Keane was transformed during the terrigenisis outbreak.”

He stands, noting the confusion that floods to horror filled realisation on her face.

“Darce..”

“No!” She steps back, hugging her arms around her.

“He’s in prison. I thought Shield took custody of anyone who transformed in the general population of all prisons.”

“They did Darcy… but he escaped before they could pick him up.”

“Escaped? When?”

“Ten weeks ago.”

“The same week Tony told me I needed a bodyguard.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve known, all this time. You know what he did to me. And you didn't tell me?”

“Doll, you gotta understand I..,”

“No, no I don’t have to understand anything. You knew what he did to me, you told me you saw my file. You slept with me. How could you keep that from me? How could you let me waltz around New York like that with no idea… What are his powers? What can he do?”

She was pacing, hands buried in her hair as she gradually grew paler.

“We don’t know exactly what his power is. There’s been some evidence that his escape was orchestrated by an outside agency.”

“You mean Hydra.”

“We don’t know that. We’ve kept back channels open, there’s been no word from any of our agents that Keane’s been sighted with any Hydra cell.”

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t.”

“No.” Bucky concedes. Then he reaches for her arm, stopping the frenzied pacing.

“Darce… We’re going to find him, I promise. I won’t let him hurt you. FBI and Shield both put kill orders out on him…”

Darcy’s eyes grow wide.

“You took the contract.”

He nods, mouth set.

Darcy takes a breath, then another, shaking, before pushing away from him and doubling over as she runs to the waste basket.

Bucky is only a step behind her, gathering her hair back as she vomits, his other hand steadying her. When nothing else would come up he helped her to a chair and left the room, looking for water.

Pepper stood outside the door, water bottle in hand and frowned as she spotted Darcy’s shivering form huddled on the chair.

“Pepper… I-”

“I’ll take care of her. Go sort out our security escort and cars. Darcy will ride with Tony and I in the Audi. Happy will drive us. You’re welcome to join us.”

Bucky looked back at Darcy, his hands curled into fists.

“I’m not sure she wants me anywhere near her right now. Did you hear us?”

“I heard. I’ll handle Darcy. Call Jane, let her know what’s happened and that we’re on the way back.” he nods and gets a few steps away when Peppers voice stops him. “And Barnes? Just because she’s hurting right now doesn’t mean she won’t want you there protecting her, give it time. She’s had a big shock to deal with.” Bucky searches her face, looking for some clue to why the older woman was so sure of what she said. Kind blue eyes meet his, understanding and sympathy shining through.

“Thank you.”

She nods and steps inside, letting the door swing closed. Bucky squares his shoulders and makes his way to the front. He has a job to do.

Tag List

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#wintershock #bucky/darcy #bucky barnes #darcy lewis #TYFYS

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buckisthatyou · 6 years

Text

Pretend - 6

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (modern au)

Word Count: 1544

Warning: -

Summary: Prompt from @nerds-are-cool (x) : There’s a person who won’t stop bugging me will you pretend to be my partner so that they’ll fuck off?

Part 5

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Author note: Sorry for the late update. Been busy with life, preparing myself to go to uni. :’))) yikesss. So, i hope you guys enjoy this part. Have a good day! Don’t hesitate to leave feedback because I need some validation. lol��

You are in the kitchen, cleaning up your table as you just finished your lunch with Max. He has brought two boxes of pizza when he comes to your house. You wipe off the bread crunches off the table as Max throws the empty square boxes into the dustbin. The two of you just are humming along to the Nick Caves’ O Children while cleaning up the mess when all of sudden there is a knock. You lift your head, looking at the door then at Max, raising your eyebrows.

“You expecting anyone?” Max asks, walking over to you.

You shake your head, “No one other than you.”

Your eyebrows are furrowed as you try to remember if you have any other plans for today but none comes to your mind. You are about to walk to the door, welcoming anyone who comes to your place but then you stop. A voice comes from the other side of the door, “Your cookies are so goddamn good! You are amazing!”

There’s a few seconds of silence and exchanging confused look between you and Max before the both of you fall into a laugh mess.

“What the fuck was that?” Max says in between his laugh.

You shake your head as a response, walking to the door, you are hoping to see the person who is just randomly declaring their love to your cookies but you find the hallway to be empty.

“They left already.” You turn to face Max as you close the door. “It is weird.” You continue, making your way to Max who is sitting crossed legs on the floor, unpacking one of your boxes.

“What?”

“I gave the cookies to Natasha and no one else.”

“Maybe one of her friends come over and has a bite and they really love it? Your cookies are delicious though. So, it is not a surprise if someone comes to tell you how much they love the cookies.” Max says so casually as he picks up a photo frame of the two of you back when you two were in highschool.

He smiles looking at the photo.

“It has been years, isn’t it?” you say, mind is filled with thousands of memories.

Max nods. He looks up to you and smiles, showing his perfect teeth.

“I’m so glad you are here and that’s we are still friends.”

“Me too, Max. Me too.” You hug him, the two of you are getting emotional all of sudden only by a piece of old photo.

“Okay. Okay. We need to stop being sappy. Let’s get your house looks decent.” Max breaks the hug.

He gets up and changes the playlist. “If we want to get work done, gotta listen to some upbeat music.” He grins at you. But as soon as you heard the beat of Uptown Funk, you laugh. You know there is going to be more of silly dance moves competition between you and Max rather than unpacking your stuff. But that’s fine because it means you are going to have a lot of fun with your best friend this weekend.

But when Monday comes, you are left alone by yourself. Making a simple breakfast, you sit in the living room, taking in the new look around your house, you smile. Things are more organized now thanks to your best friend for helping you out. The pictures of you and your family along with your friends from hometown have been put up on the wall and now you feel a lot more cosy.

This is home. You smile to yourself as you sip your morning coffee.

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

“Yes, if anything please inform me. Thank you so much.”

You shake your hand with the contractor after you are satisfied with the progression of his work on remodelling your little café. In a week or so you can finally start your business and it makes your heart swell with proudness and happiness.

After saying goodbye and leaving the man and his team to continue their work, you make your way to the public library. Nothing is better than killing your time in a building full with books. Besides, the quiet surrounding might help you focus on creating playlists for your own coffee shop.

You are drowning in the words from the novel, too engrossed with the interesting storyline. Plus, the soft music coming from your earphones makes you completely shut the door of the reality. You don’t notice a pair of eyes watching you from the History book section. A smile creeps on the owner of the piercing blue eyes’ face after noticing your existence. Making his way to your table, his heart beating faster, signalling the turbulence in his heart. Part of his logic asks him to leave you alone but his determined heart keeps encouraging him to at least say hi to you.

“Hi.”

You are aware of the shadow of a man in front of you, looking up to the person, you are left shocked.

He smiles nervously at you, afraid he has come as rude for interrupting your time. But the lack of response from you makes him regrets his decision to talk to you. He hates that once again he loses his logic to his stupid heart.

“I’m sorry. Just umm. Goodbye.”

He turns away from you, face turns red and knuckles turn white as he holds the thick book close to his chest. He is trying to cover up the embarrassment.

“Wait!” you say to stop him from walking away. “I’m sorry I was shocked. Come join me. Umm you know if you want to.” You give him a small smile, hopefully he understands the awkward side of you.

He grins back at you, pulling out the chair, he sits in front of you. “Yeah,I-I want to.”

Seeing him opening his book to start his reading, you put your earphones back in and continue to read your own. It is hard to do so, when there’s a beautiful man before you but after a few minutes you manage to gain back your focus and you begin to live in the fantasy and drifted apart from the reality.

Not even 15 minutes the two of you sitting in front of each other, minding your own business, he whispers trying to gain your attention.

“Hey.”

Looking up to him you raise your eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Do you wanna go for a lunch?” he asks you again eyes not leaving you.

You are sure that you are doing good but once the word lunch escapes his mouth, you stomach growls, begging to be feed.

With a shy smile, you nod for a yes. He chuckles at you.

“Come on. Someone is absolutely starving.” He says as he leads the way.

The two of you walk side by side in a comfortable silence. But soon he breaks it, introducing himself.

“I’m sure I haven’t introduced myself. I’m James.”

“James.” You repeat his name, trying to get used to it. “I’m y/n.” you say, looking at him with doe eyes.

He says your name again and you find it to be attractive. You will never get enough of the way his silky yet raspy voice pronounces your name correctly.

“That’s beautiful.” He compliments you making you feel giddy inside like a schoolgirl.

But then you remember the event when you accidentally met him and ruined his relationship. You are wrapped in a guilty feeling.

“Hey, I’m sorry for messing up your relationship. Are you and your wife get to work it out? You know, this is all misunderstanding right? Please say you guys are still together and I’m not ruining your relationship.”

He looks at you weirdly before he laughs. He laughs so hard he has to stop walking, making sure he is not going to fall on the ground.

You look at him in full confusion.

“Hey what’s so funny?”

He takes a deep breath before he is able to answer you. A small chuckle still escapes from his mouth though.

“I’m not married. Where did you get the idea from? And sweetheart, you not ruining anything. In fact, you saved me. She and I, we are just not good for each other.” He gives you a shrug.

You are standing there next to him, in disbelief.

“I saw you at the store with a kid!”

“Oh yes. That. Yeah, I saw you too. You looked like you just saw a ghost because I swear you went pale as fuck.” He teases you. “Come on. Let’s go have a lunch and I’ll explain to you. If we keep standing on the street, I’m sure you’re gonna die from being too hungry.” He narrows his eyes to your stomach that somehow can’t stop rumbling. He winks at you, showing his playful side.

“Now, shall we, doll?” He offers his hand to you.

James is a charming man and with the electric blue eyes and the award winning smile he can steal anyone’s girl. And you believe that you are already falling for this handsome man before you. You shake your head, this is too dangerous. The kind of game that will break your heart but your heart is weak and stupid. So, you take his hand.

“Lead the way, James.”

Part 7

tagging:

Permanent: @mizz-kraziii @queenoftrash97 @fran-writes @amindfulloffanfictions @grosskyjaja @v-2bucky @jaysaku @ria132love @plumsforbuckxx

Series: @cravingmarvel @itlookslikeyouneedadoctor @fuckthatfeeling @thejemersoninferno @kirawritesaboutevanstan @i-am-anthem-made @farfromjustordinary @sebastiansboobear @of-sebstan-and-chrisevans @wisestydia-15 @multireality @youreahandsomedevil @mrstheorossix3 @padackles2010 @hollandtoyourtom

#fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #sebastian stan

140 notes · View notes

so-not-that-cool · 7 years

Text

Happy People Shine Brighter

(finally going to self-promo this)

Summary: Sixth year AU where Simon accidentally hurts Baz and starts to realize he doesn’t want to fight him anymore. Also there’s a menacing terror lurking, of course! If you like lots of magickal plot, this is your jam.

Word Count: 57,000 (but it is part of a series that is now over 86,000)

Rating : T

Tags: get ready for a slow burn, angst, first kisses, fight scenes, there will be fluff, these two gay dorks working it out what more do you need.

Find on AO3 --> Chapter 1

SIMON

I wake up and the room is boiling. Baz must have closed the window sometime in the night, and now he’s in the shower, making the air sticky and wet. I’m in a bad mood already, and then I remember why. Agatha.

We had a fight late last night. Remembering it makes me even more irritated, so I pull on some clothes and head down to breakfast. Maybe I’ll get there early enough I won’t even have to see her. That’s what she wants, isn’t it? To get away from me.

My hair is in knots, so I run my hands through it again and again, trying to make it look a little less embarrassing in case anyone else is already at breakfast. I get to the dining hall and see it’s mercifully empty. Except, of course, for the girl with the long blonde hair facing away from me pouring orange juice. Agatha. Dammit. She must have had the same thought as I did, and was trying to avoid meeting me, too.

I turn right back around and head back to Mummer’s House. There’s nothing for it but to wait until she’s probably done eating and try again. It’s so frustrating, because the person I usually talk things out with is Agatha, and I can’t do that. That’s exactly the sort of thing that would upset her.

“Hey, Agatha, I know you don’t want to talk about us, or the future, or to me in general right now, but can we talk about the fact that you won’t talk about it?”

I really don’t want to talk about our fight with Penny, either, because I know that just makes Agatha jealous, and I’m not really trying to make her more upset right now. I suppose the fact that I don’t have any other friends to talk to is probably part of the problem in the first place.

Last year, I was consumed with following Baz, sure I’d catch him in the act of… something. Then I did catch him, drinking in the Children’s Tomb. (Alcohol, I think. Not blood. Alone.) I didn’t feel sorry for him, but I wanted to want to feel sorry for him, and that wigged me out enough to stop following him. Not stalking him has certainly freed up my time.

Penny’s dad is teaching a class at Watford this semester, so she’s usually dragged off to lunch with him on weekdays. In the afternoons, she’s always studying to stay first in class ahead of Baz. On top of that, she’s got the occasional trip to look at dead spots, and keeping in touch with Micah to worry about.

Then there is the Mage. Every time I try to speak with him, he tells me he’s busy. Working on something. Just about to pop off. It’s frustrating; I offer to help him but he just shrugs me off. I’m itching for something to do, anything that will make me feel useful.

I can see why Agatha might be feeling a little cramped. (She is my girlfriend, though. Shouldn’t she want to spend all her time with me?)

I get back up to our turret, and Baz is still in the shower. I push open the windows to spite him. I hope it’s nice and cold when he gets out. I lie down crossways on my bed. Baz and I worked this out years ago without discussion: I shower at night, he gets the mornings. It’s fine with me, my hair takes forever to dry, and I don’t trust myself to cast spells at my own head. Besides, it’s a waste of magic. I just shower at night. It doesn’t bother me. (Except now, it sort of is bothering me.)

What makes him so special? Heaven forbid he doesn’t get to slick all that hair in place every morning. How will anyone know he’s a vampire without the hair? And today especially, he’s taking forever. And I have to pee. And who does he think he is?

I bang on the wooden bathroom door. “Hey! Pitch! I need in there.”

He doesn’t even respond, and the water just keeps running. I should have known saying anything would probably make him double how long he intends on keeping me out. I think of bursting in. His wand is probably out here. Probably.

I toss myself back on the bed. I put my hands behind my head, and then cross my arms, then hop back up again. I look around the room as if looking for some idea of what to do. I turn back to the bathroom door, raising my fist to knock again when I hear the water go off. I sit down at my desk and try to look like I have a reason to be there. After a moment, Baz comes out of the bathroom with his hair slicked back and his uniform looking crisp on him in a way it never looks on me. (I bet he’s used magic.)

“Am I holding you up, Snow?” Baz says with a sneer.

I ignore this. I really do have to pee, but if I rush in there it will feel like he’s won. Like I was waiting for his permission. I’ll go when I’m good and ready.

He takes forever to gather his school books up and head down to breakfast. As soon as the door shuts I run to the bathroom. I check my hair in the mirror (not good) and try to make my collar lay straight. I give up and grab my things for class.

When I get back to the dining hall, Agatha is nowhere to be found. Penny has set aside some food for me, since I’m now actually running late, and I scarper it down as quick as I can. She’s busy studying from our Greek textbook.

“Reading that for fun now?” I ask.

She finishes the line she’s reading and looks up. “What? No. It’s the test today. Friday”

“No it isn’t. Next Friday. The fourteenth.”

“No, Simon,” she shakes her head, not looking up this time. “Today is the fourteenth.”

This bloody stupid day.

BAZ

I can feel Simon’s magic in Greek. He’s so worked up, he’s jiggling his knee, and the whole table by extension. I want to put my hand on his knee, or take his hand, or slap him and tell him to stop being hysterical. I wondered why he wasn’t studying like I was last night. Greek is Simon’s worst subject, as far as I know, but I wasn’t about to help him out. The worse he does in school, the easier it will be for me when I have to kill him. Or whatever Fiona is cooking up. (She keeps promising something big, bigger than the pocket recorder.)

That would just be perfect, wouldn’t it? The one time I would actually say, “Hey, you dolt, you should be studying.” Snow would, and he’d learn the very thing he’d use later to take me down. No, best that I stay far, far cleverer than him. He’s got his incomparable magic power, let me have the brains at least. Though I suppose I am stronger than him, too.

I realize I’m wasting precious exam time thinking about Snow and snap my attention back to the pages in front of me. The table is still jiggling, and I can almost taste Snow’s magic leaking all over the desk, but I block it out. I’ve gotten very good at ignoring Snow since last year. I hardly think about him now.

SIMON

I would say this test is all Greek to me, but unfortunately it’s Greek to everyone. It’s something else to me, like Klingon or Vogon or something. Baz is flipping through questions like it’s English. Of course he is, he spent all night studying. He sat there, as smug as can be, while I goofed around, knowing full well I’d flunk this exam today like an idiot. I knew he was evil, but come on. This is low.

I spent all lunch and Professor Bunce’s class with my Greek text in my lap, but none of it sunk in. This is hopeless. Baz is almost done, and Penny seems to be writing a novel. I think of looking around the room to see if anyone else is as lost as me, but that might look like cheating. Who am I kidding, the Minotaur would have to be daft to think whatever I turn in was from cheating. Who else would write complete gibberish but me?

I've been staring vacantly at my hands and I realized they're going blurry. My magic is ready to spill over. I feel the heat rise in my face. This is embarrassing. I drop my exam papers so I don't catch them on fire without meaning to. I might as well go now, I think. So I do. I stand up, nearly knocking my chair over, and grab all seven pages of the exam and drop it on the Minotaur's desk. I grab my bag on the way out of the classroom, making sure to knock into our table so Baz will mess up whatever he's writing. I see his jaw tighten and then relax. Nothing I do phases him.

BAZ

I finish my exam not long after Snow walked out. I consider whether I should risk going back to Mummer's House yet or not. I've got football practice and need to change, but I should probably steer clear while he's having a meltdown. I'd like to see how I did on that test before he blows me up. (Or I bite him.)

Except I leave the classroom and Snow is still there, steaming. At least, it looks like he's steaming. Magic is rolling off of him in waves. I clear my throat and he turns around. When he sees me, he tosses his head and rolls his eyes.

"Are you kidding me? Look, just get out of here, ok?"

I drop my bag and lean against the wall. I'm not going to run scared. I'll wait until it looks like I have my own reason to leave. Maybe I'll get lucky and Wellbelove will happen by and I can walk off with her. (Snow would love that.)

He growls and closes his eyes. "Fine." he says. He's trying to still his magic. I can tell because for a moment he'll start to blaze violently with light, then he'll go still. His edges will come back to him.

SIMON

I'm trying to control it, but every time I try to push it down, I start to think about what will happen if I can't push it down. The more I want to control it, the harder it gets. I start to panic. This would be easier without an audience. I realize I'm panicking and start to panic about panicking. Any minute, more students are going to finish the test and come pouring out. Classes will be done for the day and this hall will fill with students. Why can't Baz just jog on?

BAZ

Snow has gone quiet. He's breathing deep now. It looks like he's getting a handle on things, which is good because if he went off here, a few tonnes of stone would likely rain down on our heads. Maybe he realizes this, because he starts walking down the hall, and out the nearest door onto the lawn. I walk after him, in part to see if he is really ok, and in part because I do have to go back to Mummer's House to change.

Snow turns on me abruptly. "Are you seriously following me right now?" he asks.

I smile. "I live where you live, Snow. Or did you forget that as well?"

(I don't know why I said that.) (Force of habit, I guess.)

He comes back in through the doorway and comes up close to me. His cross is making my mouth tingle with electric shocks. It's too close. I resist the urge to back up. He never gets this close to me. It’s like leaning into a campfire. I’m going to burn.

SIMON

I want to throttle him. I want to push him down. I want to go off. I'm looking up into his perfectly calm face and that just makes me angrier. Isn't he afraid of me? I’m shimmering with power. Maybe vampires can't feel fear.

I’m so close, if I leaned forward my cross would touch him. Then we’d know for sure, wouldn’t we? Baz isn’t even blinking.

“Couldn’t you, maybe, even just once not be a gigantic arse?

Baz raises his eyebrows. Then, he leans into me. Does he have a death wish? I’m so surprised I take a step back. This only makes him laugh. A cruel, hollow laugh.

BAZ

I’ve called his bluff.

That’s right Snow, you’ll always be the one to back down.

“Why are you like this?” he shouts. “You know what I’m like, you’ve seen me go off, and you push anyway!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Snow. I thought we were having a moment.”

He practically foams at the mouth. His magic is spilling out like golden vapour. It’s gone too far. I can smell smoke. “Simon—” I start.

“Baz, gimme a break!” He says. And he goes off.

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genkirou · 7 years

Text

A Third Party (Masamune X MC X Yukimura)

They insist so vehemently that they hate each other, but when your Lord Masamune and his famed Sanada rival collide, a fiery spar turns a different kind of heated, with you caught in the crossfire…

WARNING: Kind of NSFW-ish(not fully smut but maybe I’ll write it someday) and OOC a little bit I guess

Also, tagging @thedaydreamingotaku, sorry if my writing’s disappointing lol but I hope you like it^^

Seven hells, who could be training in the middle of the night?, Masamune asks himself as he walked the halls of Tsutsujigasaki Palace. The Date clan had come over to negotiate trade alliances with the Takeda in the dead of winter(not the best idea, in hindsight), and had been invited to stay with them while it was too snowed in to navigate out of Kai. Kojuro had left the evening feast early in search of Lord Takeda Shingen. “He probably just wants to discuss wrinkle treatments or chronic back pain or whatever it is old people like to talk about,” Shigezane had helpfully supplied before leaving to flirt with a maid who caught his eye. You had accompanied him for a while with your comforting presence and sweet smile; he was grateful for you, your acceptance of all of him, the person who showed him things he never knew of. He was contemplating this, unaware that he was blatantly staring at you, when Kirigakure Saizo had asked to borrow you for a bit, to which he had agreed in a fluster, snapping out of his thoughts. Masamune had excused himself shortly after you had left, feeling a bit awkward all alone in the main hall. Now, having been woken up in the dead of the night, he wanders about, looking for the source of all the noise. He spies a lone figure training in the courtyard, against the light of the moon. Of course it’s him, he thinks to himself with a grudging fondness. No one else is diligent or stupid enough to be out here practicing at midnight.

A loud, “hey, Date!” snaps him out of his thoughts. The idiot that was on his mind mere seconds ago is now in front of him, holding out a wooden practice sword with that customary shit-eating smirk on his face. Sanada Yukimura.

“What do you want, Sanada?” he demands rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

“Spar with me. You’ve been sitting around all day; your lazy ass could use the exercise.” So he did notice. Masamune takes the wooden bokken with a small smirk, already feeling the adrenaline singing in his veins.

“When you lose, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Yukimura barks out a laugh.

“Ha! Sanada Genjirou Yukimura doesn’t lose! If anyone’s being warned, it’s you, Date,” he retorts. With wicked anticipation sparking between them, the match begins.

The thrill of the fight soon turns all his attention on his opponent, and Masamune finds himself honed in on Yukimura’s every detail: the blazing fire in his ice blue eyes, the stretch and pull of his muscles, the sweat that runs in rivulets down his neck, even with the winter weather, disappearing into the hem of his too-loose hakama… wait, what-

Masamune gets the sword knocked out of his hands and the wind knocked out of his lungs as Yukimura disarms him and pins him down. It’s much too hot all of a sudden, in a way that’s not quite uncomfortable, as the blue-eyed man presses him into the ground. He feels the heat bloom in his cheeks, silently grateful the moonlight can’t entirely capture his blush.

“See, Date- I, ah, warned you that- that you’d lose,” Yukimura manages to say, gasping for air. Masamune’s had enough of this. Damn you, Sanada, what are you doing to me?

“Get off,” he replies shortly, not really having the physical or mental capacity to say anything else at the moment because there is a sweaty, panting Sanada Genjirou Yukimura on top of him and it’s doing things to him that it really shouldn’t be-

“Hmm? Why? Could the one-eyed dragon possibly be surrendering?” Yukimura gloats at him, and his voice, oh god his annoying damnable voice, he really can’t take any more of this-

Masamune reaches up, grabs the spearman’s face, and crushes his lips against the other’s. He tries to pull away, really he does, but Sanada’s lips are just the right amount of chapped and he tastes salty and sweet and so Sanada Yukimura that he can’t bring himself to stop.

It’s only when he feels, rather than hears, the man above him gasp that he pulls away, immediately regretting whatever the fuck he just did. Yukimura’s face is bright with his blush, blue eyes full of shock and Masamune, you’re an idiot, what were you even thinking-

He nearly bites Sanada’s lips so hard they bleed when he feels them on his again, and feels his resolve shatter. He sits up, sending Yukimura toppling off of him. “We can’t do this here,” he hisses quietly. Yukimura blinks, fixing him with a glazed stare, mind hazy with the events of just a few seconds passed. Masamune sighs. Gods, why him, of all people? “Where’s your room?”

I wonder who could’ve been causing all that commotion, you think to yourself as you walk the halls of Tsutsujigasaki Palace. You had been accompanying Lord Masamune at the feast, until Saizo pulled you aside to ask if you could take a hammered Lord Yukimura back to his chambers. Puzzled as to why he would ask you of all people, you agreed nonetheless. You giggled to yourself as you recounted the stark contrast of the Sanada spearman’s blush to his sky-blue eyes as he begun to insist he could make it back himself, avoiding your inquisitive gaze. He had been so adamant on escorting you back to your room before returning to his own, claiming that a lady shouldn’t be alone at night. When Saizo had teased him about the implications of his statement, you could’ve sworn one could cook an egg on his cheeks. Lord Yukimura can be so cute. You had smiled and thanked him, stopped in the doorway of your chambers. The young Sanada had stared at you, seemingly transfixed, before shaking his head and practically running off to his room. Frowning, you try to discern why he did that. Does he not like me? Your heart sinks at the thought. You hadn’t given him a reason to dislike you… Clearing your head of these thoughts, you notice a light at the end of the corridor. Hm? Who could be awake at this time?

Your curiosity wins out over rationality. Inching ever closer, you hear muffled voices coming from the inside of the room, one significantly louder than the other. Stopping in front of the door, you peek though.

And almost faint from the shock of what you see.

Two bodies sprawled out on the bedding, a tangle of limbs belonging to none other than your lord and his rival. You watch with shameful captivation as Lord Masamune’s hand tangles in his partner’s hair, causing Lord Yukimura to let out a strangled gasp. He retaliates, slipping his tongue into the other man’s mouth and swallowing the heated moan from Masamune’s lips. You gulp, feeling a lustful heat spread between your thighs. It’s so so wrong to watch them, you know this, so why can’t you look away? At a particularly loud groan from Lord Yukimura, you try desperately to hold in your own, but to no avail. The desperate noise slips past your lips, and both men freeze at once, slowly turning cornered gazes to the doorway. Shit. You stare at the both of them, and they at you, for what seems to be an eternity, none of you able to process what in the hells is happening.

You realize, jolting back to your senses, that they both look mortified, every inch of skin almost crimson from their blushes. It could always be from something else, the dirty, lustful voice in your head whispers, and you mentally berate yourself for thinking such impure thoughts about you Lord and his- Rival? Lover? You aren’t so sure anymore, but one thing you are sure of is the fact that you’ll probably go jump off a cliff in shame afterwards if you don’t die of embarrassment first. Ohmygod what have I done whathaveIdone-

“AAA-mmph!” Lord Yukimura barely manages to let out a scream before Masamune’s hand is over his mouth. He can’t look you in the eye right now; you wonder if his face will ever revert back to its original colour.

“Please do not speak of this to anyone,” he whispers, voice low and ashamed, but you blink, because you can still hear the arousal thick in his voice, the way his eyes rake down your body, even as he looks down in embarrassment. Milord Masamune… likes getting caught? This new development is not good for your filthy mind, the thoughts running through it enough to put even the most erotic of novels to shame. Smirking, you feel a sudden confidence simmering in your veins, and speak, without any mental filter, a sentence that would have resulted in offing yourself any other time. Now, you feel unabashed, if only for a moment, for what shame is there in voicing what you really want?

“Mmn, well, I’ll only truly be able to keep a secret if I’m an accomplice, no?” Your eyes widen as you finish saying it, realising what the hell you just said. The bloom of your cheeks, though, haven’t even a second to heat in response before you hear the muffled moan from your right. A turn of the head meets your eyes with hazy blue ones. Once, they were as clear and blue as the summer skies; now they’re dark and veiled, twilight over the silhouettes of restless bodies. His face is flushed, his breath heavy, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything sexier than these two beautiful men in front of you, staring at you as if drowning in your eyes and body. Yukimura is the first to speak, barely managing to get his words out through his stuttering, voice husky with conflict and desire.

“B-b-but won’t you- I- we… we don’t want to hurt you; i-if you end up regretting this, I’ll take full responsibility, but-” you giggle and approach him, pressing your lips to the back of his hand. He gapes at you, a mix of adoration and voracity simmering beneath the thin surface of his crimson skin. You smile at the two men before you, so caring and considerate, always thinking of your well-being before anything else.

“How could I regret this?” You lovingly kiss Masamune’s eyelid, the one so often hidden by his eyepatch, and feel a shudder of excitement run through his body.

“But are you sure-” you press a finger to your lord’s lips.

“Yes,” you say, drawing the word out, making it clear: you want this. “Very sure. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you two.” You lean into Masamune, feeling his eyelashes brush against your cheekbones. “Milord… may I kiss you?” He swallows, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, vaguely wondering how its skin would taste between your teeth, on your tongue.

“Please…”

Masamune’s mouth is soft and pliant under yours, tasting of mandarins and summer. Your lips glide against his, parting his lips and slipping your tongue into his mouth, eating up his moans, as soft as summer breezes. There’s another taste, not his, but Yukimura’s, mixing in your mouths and it’s enough to make you dizzy. You try to pinpoint what exactly this flavour is, but Masamune, noticing your expression, pulls back. “Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong, milord, but this taste…” You glance at Lord Yukimura, lust clear in his hazy eyes from watching you and your lord. His face catches fire when he registers that you’ve caught him staring, but before he can stammer out an apology, you claim his mouth with yours and swipe your tongue across his slightly parted lips. It tastes like… dango? Briefly, you contemplate who else he might have been kissing with a taste like that, but he groans and pulls you into his lap, taking your lips with passionate desperation, and whatever rational part of your mind disappears.

His kiss is so different from Masamune’s, with a searing intensity that leaves you breathless. His hands run all over your body, seeking out every inch of your skin. You moan and feel the heat pool between your thighs when you feel him press against you through the hindrances of clothing, rocking you with his hands splayed on you hips. Through the heavy cloud of lust lingering in your mind, you vaguely sense a hard chest against your back and lips against the shell of your ear. Lord Masamune traces down your throat with his fingers, whispering a rough, husky “may I?” and all you can do is nod, your moans and gasps muffled by Yukimura’s lips.

Masamune presses his lips to your throat; gently at first, growing bolder with each sound you make. You can’t contain the soft mewl that escapes you when he laves his tongue down your throat, and he moans in response. Yukimura chuckles against your lips; you huff and draw his bottom lip into your mouth to shut him up. You feel your lord mirror the motion, teeth sinking gently into the base of your neck , sucking a bloom of red into soft, sweet skin. You hiss at the slight sting, though not in displeasure. He offers silent apologies by teasing at the mark with his tongue. It’s at this moment that Yukimura pulls away from your lips, and you almost whine at the loss of contact until you see him lock gazes with the man behind you, whose lips rest at your throat.

“You think you can best me, Date?” he pants, a smirk spreading across his face. Masamune merely raises an eyebrow at the comment, but you can see the flicker of challenge rising in blue and green irises.

“I don’t suppose it’d be hard,” he murmurs, his breath fanning your skin. Both men turn to you, timid anticipation in their eyes.

“May we?” They ask in unison, Yukimura’s hands on your hips while Masamune’s wander your torso. Two voices, undemanding, but with a hint of pleading to their voices to which you can’t help but give in. It was never a hard decision, not when you had started this, wanting to see where you ended up. You smirk, watching the two men’s faces warm with heat, and give your resolute reply.

“Please.”

#samurai love ballad party #hahah i'm going to hell #date masamune #sanada yukimura #tenka touitsu koi no ran #slbp #samurai love ballad #tenka touitsu love ballad #dabbling drabbling #pls come save me I need jesus #datesana

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