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fruitcoops · 2 years

Note

hi eve!!! have loved all of your oknutzy stuff recently !! Was hoping you’d write a coops fic while Remus was PT maybe just appreciating how much he does / Sirius treating him to something special (nice meal, back rub, etc) after a long day of work?

Yes! Love me some PT Loops learning that--*gasp*--people are allowed to love him. Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, Hattie is mine!

TW referenced minor injuries

7:45—Admin

Remus’ vision blurred with exhaustion. “No sleeping,” he mumbled around a yawn. His eyes still felt too heavy, too sticky with sleep to function like they should. “Morning, morning, morning, stay awake, stay awake, you can fit a nap in later.”

No, you won’t. Someone was going to fuck up a joint during practice today. He could feel it tingling at the back of his neck like the breath of a lunch-stealing poltergeist. Remus gazed mournfully at his calendar and the list stuck to the left side of his computer screen, scrawled in a sloppy hand before practically falling into Sirius’ car the night before—his handwriting was already questionable past 6 pm, even without a day like that. Like this one was shaping up to be, too.

His computer gave a cheerful chirp: You have a meeting in [15] minutes with [Thompson, Admin]!

Somewhere back home, Sirius was still in bed. Cozy. Warm. Sleep-soft. Probably curled on his side, long legs clad in flannel, his body in a gentle arc that formed a perfectly Remus-sized hollow against his middle for prime snuggling…

“What would happen?” he wondered aloud, drumming his fingertips on the fake wood. “If I skip, what are they gonna do? Fire me? They can’t fire me.”

His eyes slid from a near-solid block of color-coded events to the crisp Post-It with its endless list of non-work tasks.

“God, they would totally fire me,” Remus muttered. As if they haven’t been looking for a reason to do it since January. He took a moment to stretch both arms over his head and crack his back; from the looks of it, the remaining 6 minutes would be the last bit of leisure time until he went home or died, whichever came first.

10:00-2:45—Clinical + Walk-in

“What are you doing?”

“Being productive.”

Moody snorted from the general vicinity of the doorway.

“Seriously,” Remus continued over the rhythmic thud of his forehead against the wooden cabinet of the break room. “This is a better use of my time than talking to Tremzy.”

“More broken fingers?”

Remus huffed. His forehead was finally starting to transition from aching to blessed numbness. “Told me it was a jammed knee. How’d it get jammed, Tremz? I dunno. Did you turn too hard? Uh, I twisted it. What a little son of a bitch.”

“Since when is Tremblay from Texas?”

“Remind me that I love my job, please.”

“You love your job and you love those boys.” His forehead hit something softer the next time around. Remus let out a slow breath through his nose as Moody adjusted to grab him by the face and gently pushed him back into a proper standing position. “That brain pays your salary, Lupin. Play nice.”

“This brain is currently on strike due to workplace abuse,” he said into the rough skin of Moody’s palm.

Light flooded back in and Remus squinted, blinking in the sudden change. Moody scanned him with a critical eye. “You eaten yet today?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d you have?”

“Wagyu steak and pan-friend potatoes.” His stomach clenched at the very thought. Moody’s expression was distinctly unimpressed. Remus sighed. “A bagel and a granola bar, two hours ago. I have a meeting with Dumo in 3 and a half minutes about his lower back pain ‘cause he refuses to admit he’s over the age of 28, so if you’ll excuse me…”

“Choke down another granola bar and I’ll let you leave.”

“Moody—”

“You’ve got 2 minutes and 55 seconds.”

Remus scrubbed both hands down his face. Not for the first time, he wished he was a little meaner, or at least mean enough to push past into the hallway. Sirius would have. But he wasn’t Sirius, and he was hungry, and there was almost certainly a peanut butter and chocolate bar somewhere in the back of the cabinet…

Bingo. Putting his job on pause had never tasted so good.

4:30-6:00—Ref. 20-47

The afternoon passed in a series of signatures and papercuts, broken up only by a 40-minute period of double-checking everyone’s skates and pads before evening practice. Remus heard the team arrive in a distant stampede and braced himself for the inevitable grilling—where are my shoulder pads? I left them drying last night, though. What do you mean they’re in my stall?—only to be left, beautifully, wonderfully alone. It appeared his extra work the night before had paid off.

Sign, stamp, stack. Remus glanced at his watch; 28 referrals completed in just under 90 minutes. That left only two items on his work calendar (he decided to ignore the ‘home’ chores Post-It for now), a number that had seemed unfathomable seven hours ago. The admin meeting felt like another universe.

He stood on shaky legs and groaned softly at the ache from sitting too long without breaks, bracing on the edge of his desk for a stretch to stave off a calf cramp. A smart person would take 10 minutes and do some light yoga, run a couple drills once the guys went home. Remus’ neck twinged when he checked the clock again—just as he thought. No time to be a smart person.

Remus wrinkled his nose at his desk chair before easing himself back into it. The future was difficult to imagine when his brain was that fuzzy.

“Two more,” Remus told the tiny granite wolf taped to the top of his computer monitor. “That’s it, and then I can go home and have a good dinner and kiss my boyfriend and sleep for ten hours.”

He flexed his throbbing hands and pushed the keyboard aside to make room for two sheets of paper to lay side-by-side. Sorting health forms was easy, repetitive, and…

6:00-6:30—Nap

Remus woke up.

His computer was off. Good sign, he thought, letting his eyes slip closed again. Done for the day. His hands took a moment to come back online. Then the familiar ache in his legs. Then a sudden pinch in his lower back when he tried to turn into the touch caressing one side of his face, and a new voice shushing him as a hand eased his back into a more comfortable spot. Remus grumbled wordlessly.

“Re.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement. One side of his face felt stickier than usual.

“Hey. Loup.”

“Lis’nin’.”

“Time to wake up.”

“Am.”

“Sure you are,” Sirius laughed quietly. Sneakers squeaked on linoleum as he shifted and Remus burrowed into the worn-soft fabric of his shirt. He smelled good, a little sweaty, like he did after warmups or a couple loops around the basement rink. Warm in the crook between neck and shoulder, just like Remus had left him that morning. Sirius’ chest hitched with suppressed laughter for a moment—there was an odd sound like rustling paper, and then an unpleasant tug on one side of his face.

Remus jerked awake by another degree and felt his neck heat with embarrassment as Sirius finished gently peeling a health form off his cheek. “Sorted ‘em,” he explained around a yawn. “Fell asleep.”

“Quoi?”

“The paper. Sorted it.” His head felt all muggy, mouth tacky like he had been sleeping with it open. “How long was I out?”

“I’m not sure.”

Remus frowned. “Time’s it?”

“6:35. I just came to say hello.”

He hummed. Sirius’ hand slid down from the back of his head to give his neck a gentle squeeze at the nape—it popped a few neurons back into place, and Remus blinked blearily at him before leaning forward to rest their foreheads together.

“Hello,” he said into the sliver of space between them. “Missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Sirius’ thumb stroked circles over the top of his spine, turning Remus’ bones to mush. “Busy day, huh?”

“Mmm.”

“Do you know what you want for dinner?”

Remus couldn’t help his sigh. Dinner. Number one on the (literal) laundry list that needed to get done before he could drag himself into bed. Sirius would be starving when practice was done, and it was only fair that he figure something out—maybe he could ask Sirius to throw a load of dishes into the washer before rinsing off. Yeah, he could do that. “Chicken and rice?” he suggested. Quick, easy, season and bake. 40 minutes start to finish.

“Sounds great.” Lips pressed to his forehead, a little dry from warmups but as pillow-soft as always. “I’ll be back at 7:45?”

Remus smiled into their next kiss. “See you then.”

8:15-8:45 pm—Shower + Dinner

Ahead of schedule, Remus thought as they pulled into the driveway and Sirius turned the ignition off. Bonus points. If they kept this up, he might be able to let the broccoli bake for an extra five to ten minutes for some extra crunch. “D’accord,” Sirius said under his breath as he ducked out of the car and jogged around.

Remus paused, bewildered, when the passenger door opened and Sirius held his hand out. “…what?”

“Come on.” Sirius held his hand a little closer; Remus felt a blush creep to his ears when he took it and let Sirius help him from the car like—like some sort of celebrity. Sirius dipped down to kiss his cheek, taking the backpack from his shoulder in the same motion.

“What is this?” Remus laughed.

“What, I’m not allowed to carry your bag for you?” Silver eyes glittered with amusement. “I can be romantic.”

You are a grown man, don’t get fluttery over that. Remus bit his lower lip around a smile. “You can.”

“I showered at the rink, so you can head up,” Sirius continued, opening the door with ease despite the two bags hanging off him. He intercepted Hattie’s welcome tackle and tossed the nearest tennis ball down the hallway for her to chase, gesturing for Remus to go ahead of him. A lopsided smile made Remus’ heart squeeze. “The beast has been tamed. After you, mon amour.”

He cast a quick look around the living room and kitchen when he entered—no surprises yet. Nobody hiding behind the couch with cake and balloons for…something important, presumably. Fuck, had he forgotten an anniversary? Anniversary of what? This time last year, he and Sirius had both been unhappily aboard the train of useless pining.

Then again, being sweet and silly and chivalrous for no reason at all was exactly the type of thing Sirius would do, when he thought about it. “Thanks, baby,” Remus said as he toed his shoes off and leaned up for a kiss.

Sirius nudged their noses together, one hand going down to soothe Hattie’s excited tippy-taps. “Pas de problem. Now go, shower, I know that look on your face.”

Remus caught him by the front of his shirt before he could turn away and pulled him down for one more chaste peck. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

8:25 pm—Shower and…dinner?

Sirius hadn’t let him start the chicken, rice, or broccoli before ushering him upstairs with a playful smack to his ass. Remus wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but he had been standing under the hot water for about five minutes now and honestly didn’t have the capacity to read too far into it anymore. The water took the last of his higher brain functions with it as it swirled over his aching feet to the drain. More than once, Remus’ thoughts tried to wander toward the Post-It still stuck to his computer monitor, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it said.

Maybe that was okay. Maybe he could take another couple of minutes to steam himself like the dumplings from their favorite shop down the road, taking in the warm air and blowing out the day’s stress. He hadn’t done that many consecutive clinicals since college. A break was well-deserved.

8:45 pm—Put on pants

**Correction: 8:45 pm—Put on Sirius’ pants and sweatshirt

The bed was far too tempting for its own good. If Remus’ stomach wasn’t growling like a hellbeast, he would have given in to his weak mortal urges and buried himself beneath the sheets the second he stepped out of the shower.

He rolled the waistband of Sirius’ sweats twice to keep them up, then slipped on his oldest, most threadbare Lions hoodie. A welcome gift from James, if Remus remembered right. One of many attempts to offer friendship to their newest, coldest rookie.

Remus stuck his nose in the neckline and inhaled deeply. How far they had come since those first silent days.

Fuzzy socks made the outfit complete and offered the gentle padded compression he had been craving since noon. He cracked his knuckles as he headed back down to the kitchen, stifling a yawn in one frayed sweater cuff, and paused at the bottom of the stairs to give Hattie’s ears a scritch. “Hello, princess,” he laughed while she gave his hands a thorough inspection. “You’ve got bedhead, c’mere. Did you have a good nap after your dad left? I know, I was gone forever.”

“The couch was still warm,” Sirius called from the other room with an audible smile. “I checked.”

“I bet you two went to the park, huh?” She stared back at him, tongue lolling, tail thudding against the floor before she pushed her entire head into his chest. The fur of her neck was silky smooth between his fingers; Remus pressed his nose to the top of her forehead and let himself relax into the velvet softness.

The air smelled different when he raised his head, blinking in the dim light. Hattie put her paws on the lower stair and began her nightly routine of making sure he wasn’t secretly hiding treats behind his ears. “Baby?”

“Ouais?”

“I can—” Remus broke off when another burst of steam sent the smell wafting into the living room. Sirius had used the good paprika. Christ, his heart was going to burst. “I said I could make dinner.”

“Chicken and rice, yes?” Sirius appeared in the doorway with a sweet smile and popped a green bean in his mouth, shrugging. “I got it.”

“You got it.” He got it. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

Remus’ hands stilled over Hattie’s ribs. He could feel her breathing, steady one moment, erratic with intensive sniffing the next. It seemed she had accepted the fact that he was not going to sneak her cookies and trotted off to go whine at Sirius, leaving Remus alone on the stairs. “You got it,” he repeated quietly to himself.

9:00 pm—No…plan? No plan.

Dinner was amazing. They were both too tired to talk much, but the minute they sat down Sirius had twined their ankles under the table, and there they stayed for the next half hour while they ate in companionable quiet. The rice was only a little undercooked.

Sirius liked to read or watch a show after evening practice most days, and Remus usually found himself a spot between thick thighs or tucked up against Sirius’ side to join him for an hour or two. But Sirius had taken their dishes with a kiss to his forehead and put them right in the dishwasher—and started it—before taking Remus by the hand and pulling him upstairs.

Remus watched him change into his pajamas and put his day clothes in the hamper at the same time, relying on muscle memory to brush his teeth while his mind whirred. It wasn’t that Sirius never helped around the house; the man was more of a neat freak than he was, some days. But something felt…different. It felt more intentional.

“So,” Remus started once he had rinsed his mouth out and shuffled aside to share the sink. The words stuck in his throat for reasons he couldn’t name. “Tonight was—tonight was really nice. Thank you.”

Sirius’ brow furrowed in confusion. “For dinner?”

“And the other stuff.” Why was it suddenly so hard to say what he wanted? “You know, the dishes and feeding the dog and holding the door and…all that.”

Sirius hummed and bent to spit out his toothpaste before he half-shrugged. “It was normal stuff. You were tired. I could do it, so I did.”

Remus just stared at him as he went back to brushing his teeth, already rummaging through the cupboard for the mouthwash. “Thank you.”

Sirius hummed his thanks when Remus passed him the mouthwash bottle; when he was done with his teeth, he turned, taking Remus’ face between gentle hands to kiss him, minty fresh. “I missed you today. And yesterday.”

Don’t swoon, don’t swoon, don’t swoon—“I missed you, too.”

Perhaps spending two days cooped up in his office had had more side effects than just draining his energy. He let Sirius take more of his weight with a slow exhale, and a moment later felt big hands rubbing along his aching muscles. “It’s silly,” Sirius said, his voice low. “I almost wished I had a real excuse to come see you.”

“For your own sake, I don’t,” he mumbled into Sirius sleep shirt.

There was a gentle pressure at the top of his head; Remus hid his smile in the nearest bicep. “You do so much for so many people,” Sirius sighed at last. The hands on his back maintained their steady motions. “You spend all day fixing their problems. My problems, too. I just—” He paused. Remus loved how carefully each word was chosen. Another little press made his stomach swoop. “I want you to know that you don’t have to do everything by yourself, Re. I can handle Hattie, I can do chores, I can cook. Maybe not well, but—”

“It was fantastic, Sirius.”

“Merci.” Sirius’ arms tightened around him for a brief pulse. “I can help. Let me help. I want to. This is, like, the bare minimum.”

Sometimes Remus couldn’t believe just how lucky he was. A day that used to end with boxed mac and cheese and falling asleep in the creaky twin bed of his apartment, occasionally still in his work clothes, now ended like this. And if he had his way, it would go like this forever.

“Okay,” he said, tilting his head up. The corners of Sirius’ eyes crinkled with a smile. “Alright, I’ll try. But don’t try to do everything for me, either, yeah?”

“As if I could get away with that,” Sirius laughed, bending down until their lips brushed and happiness fizzed through Remus’ whole body.

A double yawn interrupted their third-fourth-fifth kiss and they broke down into laughter; Remus went willingly when Sirius tangled their fingers together and made a show of dragging him to bed, bundling him up in the covers before settling down with a nuzzle to the back of his ear. His knees tucked up behind Remus’—his arm wound protectively over his torso, forming a perfect Remus-sized hollow.

10:00 pm—Rest

Remus was asleep before Sirius had taken two breaths.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #hattie #moody #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fluff #pt loops #cuddling #long day

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chubbygirlfics · 1 year

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Can i request a tate Langdon x plus!size reader. Where the reader finds out she is pregnant and is scared to tell tate because she thinks he will make her get an abortion and when she finds out about how tate is dead she stays calm so she doesn't add a lot of stress to herself and the baby maybe she is walking home at night and some guy tries to rob her and then kill her but tate gets there and saves her she finally tells him and he tells her how much he loves her and can't wait to be a father. He says this behe is so deeply in love with the reader. (sorry if its long you don't have to write it)

Tate Langdon x plus-size!Reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, assault, robbery, and abortion.

Summary: at the top! I hope you like this fic!<3 also it isnt proof read

You don’t really know how you ended up in this situation, pregnant with Tates baby, afraid of what he would say or do if you told him, worried he might make you abort the baby.

You always knew Tate was a deeply disturbed person, you overheard the conversations he had with your dad, he’s a therapist and has a home office for his patients.

Your dad always told you to stay away from him of course in the beginning you did but then Tate started wandering the house when your dad thought he left, he made it up to your room one day, watching you threw the crack in your door.

Man he thought you were gorgeous, when you noticed him peeking he got scared of how you would view him, would you think of him as a creep?, as a stalker?

His worries went away when you invited him into your room

‘Oh hi I’m Tate I live next door’ he said shyly breaking eye contact with you, you have him a assuring smile ‘I know who you are Tate, I see you with my dad from time to time, so what are you doing up here’

You ask Curiously ’i was just looking around sorry if I looked like creep earlier I just thought you looked cute- ah sorry I didn’t mean to say that’ he says cutting himself off

‘It’s okay I think your pretty cute too’ that helps him feel less awkward and it’s not like your lying

Ever since that day you two have practically been inseparable, he’s always in your room hanging out, listening to music, watching movies.

After you guys got to know each other better things escalated which got you into the situation you are in now.

Sitting on the bathroom floor with a positive pregnancy test, cursing to yourself, why just why did this have to happen to you.

Lost in your thoughts you over heard someone talking, you quickly hid the pregnancy test and got up to see who it was.

It was Tate and Constance, Tates mother, you never liked her the way you’ve seen her talk to him but you’ve just stayed out of there business because Tate asked you too.

‘Tate how many times have I told you to stop talking to this girl, if she find out your secret, it’ll be over’ she whisper yells at him

‘Mom, she’s not gonna find out I’m dead, she’s never asked me out the house so you don’t have to worry’

Dead? Dead. It made you dizzy, what does he mean dead, how is he talking to you touching you if he is dead.

It makes so sense, whatever he meant or means you know you have to keep calm in order to not put stress on yourself or the baby, even if Tate doesn’t want the baby in the end you do.

After you hear them walk you away you need fresh air to get your kind off of everything.

You put on warm outdoor clothes considering it’s already dark at night , once you get outside you decide to head to the supermarket to get some stuff to snack on.

You got there grabbed some chips and drinks, you had some spare cash that you could use, you bought your items and headed back.

When you got to the yard of your house some random man came out of the bushes and started covering your mouth

He put a knife against your neck ‘I swear if you make one sound I will cut your throat right here bitch, now give me everything you have.’ You are pulling out your wallet and just give it to him the stuff you bought from the store too.

After you give him everything your shaking still trying to keep calm cause all your thinking about is the baby, ‘you know what I’m gonna kill you anyways’

As he’s about to hurt you Tate comes out of the shadows ‘don’t fucking touch her’ he says slamming a rock against his head more than one time

It definitely knocks than random man out, you never felt so relieved, Tate saved you

‘Oh my god y/n are you a okay? Did he hurt you?’ He says pulling you into a hug, ‘it’s okay Tate I’m fine can we please go inside’ you beg ‘yeah of course baby’ he says grabbing your stuff from the ground and leading you inside

When you got to your room you started breaking down crying, ‘hey, it’s okay y/n your safe now’ he says giving you a kiss at the top of your head,

‘I know tate that’s not why I’m crying’ you say looking at him ‘then what’s wrong?’ He says confused

You take a deep breath ‘I’m pregnant tate and it’s yours, I’m sorry’

He’s speechless for a good minute, you take that as a bad sign, ‘really?’ He asks you see some excitement in his eyes which makes you relieved

‘Yeah I was having a lot of symptoms so I took a pregnancy and test and it was positive but I understand if you don’t want the baby but I’m not getting a abortion tate’ you state

‘No no I don’t want you too, I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad, to our baby , I’m so happy y/n I love you so much and I would never make you get an abortion I want the baby just as much as you do.’

Your smile got so wide and then you remember what him and his mother said.

‘Tate, what did you mean earlier when you said you were dead?’ His eyes go wide.

‘It’s a long story y/n’

#x plus size reader #x reader #x chubby reader #bxbyjinx #tate langdon #Tate Langdon x plus size reader #Tate Langdon x chubby reader #tate langdon x reader #american horror story #murder house #evan peters #Evan peters x reader #Evan peters x plus size reader #Evan peters x chubby reader

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dobiemart · 2 years

Text

say yes, please?

pairing, edward “eddie” munson x reader

summary, finally, eddie gets down on one knee. and it’s not to tie dustin bun’s shoe.

eddster proposing to his beautiful partner (aka you sexy bitch)

word count, 1.9k

byr, i read a fic abt billy loomis proposing and i audibly sobbed at it cause MAN WHYY IS THAT NOT ME IRL RN

“oh yeah ill totally write a story abt kurt tmr!” - my lying ass. it’s literally been a week. istg yall cannot hold me to anything but heres my apology for that fat ass fib

i asked my guy friend what he’d do if he ever proposed to a girl and he was like “id make it somewhat sweet or funny over like rose petals everywhere typa shit” and i said OKKAAYY SIR GET YOU SOME BITCHES OR SMTH

i wrote this while i was half asleep. its pretty messy but it had to get out of my mind asap

bolded italics should be read as thoughts

warnings, fluff, swearing, crying (y’know i gotta add the waterworks), mentions marriage ofc, eddie being a nervous ass baby (maybe ooc? listen, i was sleepy.), nd projection of my need to marry this man immediately in my own quirky way.

eddie munson was a simple, outcast of a man. the proclaimed ‘freak of hawkins,’ reigned supreme on his throne and took his title as a ritualistic, satanic, demon worshiper with as much pride as people gave him. he was never one to openly care about what people thought of him, unless it was you.

no matter what he did, what bullshit rambles spewed out of his mouth, what atrocious crime he committed, you were there with him. you’d seen him at his worst, best, and in between, yet you didn’t ever leave. and eddie loved you for that.

he could go on and on about how much he loved everything you’ve ever done for him, no matter what it was. his heart swelled whether you brought him a glass of water, kissed his calloused fingertips after his band practice, or gave him a simple, ‘hey, eds!’ when he groggily dragged himself through your shared home.

the lists of reasons to love you could go on forever, and this was the day he’d admit that to you. if everything went according to plan, of cour-

“did you hear me, ed? i asked if you wanted some eggs with your toast,” you asked, clearly oblivious to his thought process. him spacing out wasn’t anything new, but he usually came around sooner.

he seemingly thought out his answer, dragging his bottom lip through his teeth in the process. he eventually replied with a mumbled, ‘yeah, sure babe.’ before scrambling off to your shared bathroom in a hurry.

you shook off his jittery attitude as a result of just waking up, and started your venture downstairs to the kitchen without a second thought over the interaction.

the sounds of him hopping down the stairs were familiar, since he’d been doing it since you moved into a home together. he slid into the kitchen quietly, gripping your waist and thanking you for breakfast with a kiss to the nape of your neck. he gave a small huff as he lifted the fragile plate over your head and shuffled his way to the couch, a.k.a. his dining table.

this was yet another thing he loved. being able to sit with you wordlessly and do anything he wanted comfortably. he’d lost count of the amount of times you’d laid together in comforting silence and basked in the presence of one another.

“we should go to that arcade later, babe. ‘s totally abandoned now. i know you’ve been wanting to go,” he started with a mouthful of bread and juice, gesturing with his hands as he commonly did. “plus, it’s free this time. gareth found a way in.”

he somehow made the offer of breaking into the arcade for a date a bit less illegal sounding, so you agreed. though, you communicated your answer with a simple nod and a smile instead of a full mouth of mauled food.

only a snippet of a smile was visible on his face before he was off yet again, skipping up two steps in his frenzied state. eddie rushing to go somewhere was a rare occurrence, which fueled your curiosity even more. he was less talkative and was in a hurry, but it’s just your eddie being eddie.

after throwing on a band tee and ruffling his fizzy curls, eddie made sure to rush your beautification process. he shot you a whiney “c’mon babe! it doesn’t take that long,” every couple of seconds, somehow trying to speed up your already scrambling form.

yet another thing he loves. watching you battle with your hair, debate with yourself on a clothing combo, and see if your samina would allow you to slap some beauty products on. without fail, you’d continue this routine every morning and it would put a smile on his face every single time.

“alright eddie, just lemme finis-“ “yeah, uh huh, babe. you’re beautiful without it. we gotta go!” he cut you off while grabbing your hand, deciding your half-glossed lips would do. you obviously protested against this, but he was practically dragging you out the door.

he pushed you into the passenger seat with an apologetic kiss on the forehead, and made a mad dash to the driver’s seat. his leg was rapidly bouncing as he started up the van, almost matching the beat of the random metal song he had recently been playing.

though, you still didn’t ask questions. his jittery mannerisms weren’t a rare occurrence, so it wasn't a huge concern. just in case, you placed a gentle hand on his bouncing thigh and enjoyed the ride ahead of you.

---

after an ass-achingly bumpy car ride, you arrived at the beat up arcade on the lower class side of hawkins. it was the one you and eddie would frequent when both attended highschool, which made the nostalgia run through your veins.

grabbing your hand gently, he placed a kiss onto your hand before leading you to an open back entrance. you were glad he’d saved you the hassle of climbing through a window, but the nerves were still there.

“we’ll be fine babe,” he read you like a book, squeezing your hand for comfort. “i can see the gears turning in your head. don’t stress, okay? i got us covered.”

“alright, eds. i trust you. but i'm telling’ you right now, if there are any spiders in this place—“ he cut off your pending arachnophobic rant with a slight tug, dragging you into the somehow already lit arcade.

the only word you could use to describe the scene in front of you was woah. the playplace childhood shined its brightly coloured lights with a special fluorescent glow you’d grown to miss seeing. the older video games stayed with their solid black screens, but the claw machines shined amongst anything else.

you looked around in awe, sprouting a small smile before letting go of eddie's hand to roam and get a closer look at everything. his tattooed arm fell by his side with a small ‘thunk,’ yet he didn’t notice.

in his hopefully final moments of just being considered as your ‘boyfriend,’ he finally realized the most important thing about these moments. he wasn’t just loving things about you, he was truly loving you. every moment, every conversation, every look shared, it was all with you. no way would the hell-raising spitfire of hawkins ever get married, but for you, things could be different.

he stared at you from the doorway, reveling in the way simply seeing your childhood building made you this happy. he could stare at you all day, studying each feature of your face as if he’d just met you. though, he did make gareth fix the lighting in this place for a hefty price and a good reason.

he slid over to an old claw machine when you were occupied, one of those plastic ball containers you’d get a sticky slappy hand out of if you were lucky. he fiddled with the prize slot before sliding a spare quarter into the machine.

the sounds of another machine filled your ears as you turned to see eddie bending over to move the joystick around. he looked giant compared to the tiny toy grabbing game, still towering over it while he was hunched over. the concentration in his doe eyes made your heart swell before the familiar dinging of the machine rang around the building.

“babe, c’mere!” he ushered you over, pushing you in front of the framed metal box and ghosting his hand over your lower back. ”i won you something, dunno what it is though.”

“oh really? mr. munson finally wins at a game?” you lightly hinted at the fact that he’d never win when you were younger. either that, or he let you win.

a light pink dusted over his pale, freckled face as you said his last name. hopefully it would be mrs. munson in a second. he coughed his flushed expression off, gesturing to the prize slot of the machine.

“yeah, yeah. check what your prize is already,” he was obviously rushing you, but you still didn’t know why. nobody could really be that eager to see what coloured bouncy ball would reside in the bigger container, so something must’ve been up.

you gave him a slight side eye in confusion before bending down to the metal opening, taking the transparent ball into your palm without peeking at the toy inside first. you shook it around, raising your eyebrow even higher at the unfamiliar rattling sound it gave.

“huh, i’ve never gotten anything but those cheap sticky hands from these. but i do remember those limited edition lego figures they had at one point,” you babbled to yourself as well as eddie, questioning what could’ve made the noise. his leg bounces as he stood behind you, seemingly impatient about something.

you eventually ruled down your lengthy guessing process, repeating your childhood rituals for luck. the plastic lid popped open with a quick snap, revealing a delicate, silver ring with your favourite crystal planted straight in the middle of the band.

it took you a minute to process what you were seeing wasn’t a sick trick your mind was playing on you, slightly faulturing before spinning on your heels to face the only man that could’ve pulled of this wacky declaration of love.

there he was. edward munson, the devious cult leader of hawkins, down on one knee. he was still slightly trembling, with an even shakier smile growing on his face.

“well,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “y’know i'm not exactly great with speeches, but uh– say yes, please?”

as much as you tried, you couldn’t respond to him. you damn near fell to your knees and latched onto him, still gripping onto the container for dear life. no way this shit was actually happening.

he almost fell over from the force you threw yourself onto him with. his contagious laugh rang around the arcade, matching the joyful energy of the lighting. he wrapped an arm around your waist and slid back, sitting down comfortably with you hanging onto him like a koala.

it felt like you were sitting there for an eternity with him, clinging onto him like it was the last time you’d be able to touch him. he slightly pushed you back a couple times, just to make sure you didn’t choke him out. your sniffles drowned out into his neck as you both still sat.

“if you aren’t gonna say anything, i’m gonna take that as a yes.” he chortled as you finally pulled away, getting a full glimpse at your post ugly crying face.

“of fucking course, eddie!” you semi-yelled at the man in front of you, giving him a soft slap on the chest. “is that what you were wigging out about all day?”

“was it that noticeable? there’s no way. i’m literally a master at acting normal, babe.” he replied, still giving you small laughs between words. he slid his large palm into yours, stealing the small container and its contents. he carefully removed the ring he’d hand picked for you and put it on your left ring finger, placing a quick kiss over the crystal.

you wobbly stood up, resembling bambi when he slid across the ice. you sniffled a bit more before slightly wiping under your nose and eyes, oblivious to the amount of tears and snot you released during the hug.

“y’know, you didn’t ask me properly, eddie.” you lightly joked while looking down at your now ringed hand, the love of your life’s hand adorning yours. “that’s very unprofessional of you, mr. munson.”

his smile grew impossibly wider, pushing back on one knee almost effortlessly. he dramatically sighed and placed a hand on his heart, before starting his true eddie monologue.

“would you, y/n l/n, make me the happiness dungeon master in the world and marry me?”

pov youre me waltzing back in after missing annotherr week of not writing buttfuck nothing.. naw cause HOW HAS IT BEEN A WEEK ALREADY-

anyways this might not be great but i thought it was cute and yeah

ur likes and reblogs are always appreciated my loves (i really need friends n shit so like talk to me rn please and thanks)

- a still sleep deprived coraline

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #joseph quinn

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trans-mink · 2 years

Note

Istg these writer questions are all too good I want to ask you every single one but that'd be a lot so...17, 22, 34 + a question you'd really like to answer!

im so sorry this took a while things been all over the place on my end, this is going to be very all over the place but anyway

17. talk to me about the minutiae of your current wip. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

uhh so i got several wips that are v much on a break but I started reworking an old arcana self insert fic of mine from 2019 cos tbh the writing is ass and I can make it sound a lot better now idk how that bitch has so many kudos on it, its not good!!

the plot is basically that the MC (reader) has chronic joint pain in the winter when its cold and Julian helps to look after them. The inspiration was that i have chronic joint pain that's way worse when its cold and i wrote it as a comfort thing lol. its still up rn in its original state but will be updated soon hopefully

my other main wip is my dmmd fic that i worked on p much all of last year but now i have burnout so im taking a break rip.

its kinda a re-write of the reconnect game but with more characters and set in my own universe but i think once i get over the bump of the main story line its gonna be more slice of life/ romance focused as a change of pace to the first half. Unlike the reconnect game i also focus on other characters that arent the main character's love interest because if i was a reader i'd wanna know what everyone else is up to post canon. It basically feels like a sandbox for me to write my character head canons lol.

22. how organized are you with your writing? describe to me your organization method, if it exists. what tools do you use? notebooks? binders? apps?

everything is in google docs, i have notes pages and a loose colour coding system going with how I edit things e.g green= published, orange= needs work/ to be changed, purple= notes about canon/ in fic lore.

Sometimes if i feel my work is getting cluttered i'll move it to a separate doc so i end up with about 3 documents that are different editing stages of the same chapter.

Theres also a "cutting room floor" doc where i put stuff that didnt make the final cut in case i wanna refer to it later and its not lost to the back space button.

34. thoughts on the oxford comma, go:

fam I dont even know what a oxford comma is, I just be putting them shits wherever feels right. Like a granny adding seasoning to her cooking.

Ok i just googled it and I dont tend to use it i dont think but honestly do whatever u want, who give a shit. language and grammar are fake.

extra question picked at random :D

12. if a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current wips into lorem ipsum, i don’t make the rules

first wish is to know how characters feel in response to whatever is happening to them, my biggest thing rn is being unable to put myself in their shoes and i think it would help a lot.

second is to consistently remember HOW to write well, cos i have bursts of knowing wtf im talking about but will suddenly lose it even if im in the middle of a work

third is knowing the exact word or phrase to describe scenery, emotions and facial expressions. I struggle with those the most for some reason.

#tysm for the ask i didnt forget about it i was just busy and distracted #ask

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commanderquinn · 10 months

Text

Good Space Chapter 1: Flower

! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!

that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh

—

master list / ao3 chapter link

—

She’s the one good thing about trips to medical in the Avenger’s Tower.

Every other day, at her direct insistence, her lab is the only place in the entire wing that he’s willing to go to. It smells warm and safe, nothing like the antiseptic that makes him want to break a limb. For the first two weeks, he tries to tell her that she doesn’t have to do this. He’s been looking after the link from his arm to his brain for years. There’s never been a problem with it that he couldn’t handle, and he’ll come back if anything ever feels off. No matter how much Steve hovers, she doesn’t need to waste her time on this.

By the start of the third week, he can’t bring himself to suggest that anymore.

—

psa: there’s some gross ass (sometimes detailed) nazi medical shit all through this fic, so if lobotomy talk of any kind is a no for you, skim over any brain talk. your best bet is just to skip the lab scenes where you can ❤️

fic title is a song by skrillex! we needed bouncy shit that vague hinted at plot. the chapter title is a moby song to lay out the v i b e s 👾 im always going to list these, so y’all have a song to listen to while reading

all i can think that needs to be said for canon clarity (ill make it all clear over time dw) is post-WS buckaroo got picked up by steve and sam to be taken for a shower and therapy. no civil war, no age of ultron. we're taking parts of it and doing other shit, you'll see. fury’s publicly alive and director again, shield got flushed out because mmmmm i said so i guess. no red room here. its not about nat, the lack of consent history hanging between them isnt something i want with this. i want to focus on other parts of their trauma bond. alsomaybeishipnatwithsomeoneinthis.

im sorry, but i never started wanda content on my end, and AI jarvis is comfy nostalgia i want to play in, so likely not a lot for her here. yes, we will be having shuri bully bucky, ofc, she’s the pin that holds this whole plot together (what else is new)

oh and i treat bucky’s arm as more of an atompunk feel rather than “the nazi’s had bleeding edge limb tech in ww2 that only affects bucky’s arm, definitely not anything else”

other than that, we’re firmly in good ‘ol stark tech magic and too many open wiki pages for all my plot device needs

also my grammar aint the good. i write these mf's in my spare time while baked af, you're gonna have to give a bitch a break babes 👾

—

Febuary 17th, 2018

"That's not what I'm asking about."

Tony throws up his hands from the other side of the conference table, then lets them smack back down against the polished surface dramatically. "Illuminate me then, Rogers. I'm running out of ways to explain that she's the best I've got to offer for this."

Steve pushes a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff. "I'm not a brain surgeon."

"No shit, that's what she's here for."

"I meant that I don't know what the fuck I'm looking at."

"Now I know you're worried if you're willing to," Tony clutches at the front of his shirt in mock horror, "swear in public." Pepper smacks his shoulder without even looking up from her tablet. The sight would make Steve smile under normal circumstances.

"You can hand me any resume you want, Tony. I'm telling you that I won't be able to see a difference. I know you're giving me a team who can do the work; I'm asking if they can do it while it's Bucky."

"Are you worried about his safety or theirs?" Pepper asks, finally looking over. Her tone isn't judgemental. If anything, it's veering towards the gentleness it has when she's talking Tony down.

"I'm not worried about theirs. I will be there every time. Even if he has a bad day, I'll make sure that—look. Nothing's going to happen. It's just...." Steve flips open the folder he's been carrying for a week. The edges of it are starting to wear down at this point. Sighing, he slides his summary notes to their side of the table. "He still doesn't... he doesn't talk about the previous escapes. No matter what his therapist tries. He just can't bring himself to do it. But it's not hard to get a clear picture of what used to happen. He does this every time. He builds himself a strong house, then a fallback point, and then he goes to work trying to fix all the damage alone, which he'll never be able to do. No one could. And there's not going to be a goon squad rolling in to drag him back anymore, so he's just going to—"

"Yeah, yeah, push him to help him; I grasped the concept the first hundred times," Tony cuts in. If he weren't so damn anxious, Steve might honestly feel bad about being so far up everyone's ass over this. "You've got me on board. So, what's the concern here? Will she quit the first time he bites her head off? That's a pretty chauvinist perspective, especially coming from you."

"She's had to put up with Tony long enough to befriend him; that should be proof enough." Pepper smiles as the nightmare himself points toward her in silent agreement.

Steve raises his hands amicably. "I'm not trying to insult anyone's professionalism. I'm sure she's had more than her fair share of problem patients to get where she is today. I'm... I'm more asking if—Christ. I'm sorry in advance, alright? But... Tony, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you'd have trusted her to get you home."

A stiff, all-consuming silence falls over the spare meeting room. Pepper and Steve waiting on bated breath; Tony frozen as he looks back at him with an expressionless face.

Steve despises himself for doing this to him. The knowledge of what happened in that cave is something the man is unimaginably protective over. It took years—and a night of blackout drinking on Tony's end—for the story to even slip out of him. Talking about Yinsen is the only time Steve's seen him cry that he can remember. It was just one overflow, barely even two tears that got scrubbed off his cheeks within the first minute, but it was there. It's the only way Steve knows to get his point across.

Tony looks down at the table and adjusts his posture. His head shifts and his lips purse in that signature move of his, the one that comes up when he's forced to be a person. With feelings. Pepper's arm moves, no doubt taking his hand under the table.

He looks back up, meeting Steve's eyes as his posture relaxes. "I wish they could have met. I think Yin would have gotten a kick out of her fashion taste. I think she'd have gotten an even bigger one out of putting him in it."

It's the most ringing endorsement he's ever heard the man give. More importantly, Steve knows just how much weight sits behind the guarded words.

—

"I've got their personnel files if you want them. They all volunteered them to you willingly."

"I'm alright."

"Do you want their names ahead of time?"

"No."

"Not even their first ones?"

"They can tell them to me."

"Okay."

"...."

"...What are they?"

"The ones that'll be behind the glass are Hannah and Wyatt." Of course Steve knows to start there, where his nerves will fixate the most. Asshole. "You probably won't even talk to the two of them today, but your main doctor for this will definitely offer to let you. Her name is Ava. She's going to check in with you for confirmation on a lot of things before she does them. I shadowed her for over a week, asshole. It's not about you; she does it for everyone."

Bucky grunts. "I wouldn't have jumped on her for it."

"No, you'd have sat there brooding like a petulant jackass instead, probably making her feel bad." Steve pauses for a long moment, fiddling with the paper coffee cup in his hands. "You should read Hannah's file, Buck."

"Why?" He shouldn't ask. He can hear the motive sitting in his best friend's voice. It's a fucking trap, and he fucking knows it, but he also can't stop himself.

"Her last name is Schuster."

He absolutely despises the way the situation makes his gut clench. They're dead. They're all dead, and the ones in their place have been declawed for much longer than he's been off ice. He's probably not even going to talk to the woman, at least not today. He might catch the sight of a name on a coat, however. Or on a chart.

He wanted to do this without letting old habits in. He wanted to at least start this feeling like a person, not a weapon. But he gets why the dickhead is trying to baby-step him into it.

Bucky holds out his hand. Steve silently passes him the tablet he keeps. Neither of them says a word as he reads the SHEILD file to himself, line by line. Taking in a stranger's entire professional life. Her family, her known associates, every residence she's ever held. It takes a moment of hovering his finger over the subfolder with her medical records to talk himself down from opening it. Nothing is lingering in those shadows; Steve wouldn't allow it. That's not a line he needs to cross anymore.

He hands it back when he's done. "The other two?"

"Nothing I could think of. Ava's seen your hard limit list—you remember I told you I was gonna give it to one of your—?"

"I remember. It's okay. That's why you have it."

"Yeah." Steve takes another long pause. "You remember that she knows—"

"I know."

"Good. The others don't. She says they don't need to for any of it, and it's never going on record again." He looks over out of the corner of his eye. "She's going to bring it up today."

"I had a hunch."

"I just wanted to make sure it didn't surprise you."

"I know."

"Good." Steve picks up his coffee to drain the last of it in one swig. He tosses the empty cup into a trashcan by the wall a few tables over before looking back at him. He extends his now-empty hand. "Ready?"

"Not in the fucking least." Bucky raises his hand to lock with his best friends momentarily. "Let's go."

There's no wing in this tower—and he's been through all of them by now—that he dislikes more than medical. The place makes his skin feel like a thousand goddamn spiders are crawling all over him, and the smell of it, fuck. It sits in his head like a fog while it burns up the inside of his nose, making him want to break anything touching any part of him. He'd make Steve be here with him no matter what; that's a given. But the fact that there's going to be a doctor poking at him today while he's trying to power through it all makes the guy's presence non-negotiable. Bucky needs the safety net for the good of everyone in that room.

Steve doesn't try for talking to distract him, mercifully enough. There are times when it helps. Today isn't going to be one of them. He doesn't even have to bring it up for Steve to know, and the reminder that he's understood helps his nerves. It's been an incredibly long time since he had an incident. He's proud of every last one of those days. He won't be upset with himself—well. He'll try not to be upset with himself if that streak ends. But he really, really wants that day not to be today.

Bucky treats it like a mission. He's braced and ready for the antiseptic when they first get through the entrance. He doesn't flinch or huff through his nose at the invasion, not even as they make their way to the specialized divisions. He's walked these hallways before; he's walked every single one in the tower. It was the only way he could get himself to sleep during his first week here. Aside from a few trips to the emergency intake, he hasn't had to force himself back.

He's definitely never bothered with meeting the specialists themselves. It took long enough to convince himself not to memorize the names of every staff member in the tower. He doesn't need to do that anymore. That's what his therapist and the Star Spangled Spandex keep insisting, anyways.

The door Steve goes for sticks out against the sleek hallway long before they reach it. It's painted, and not just a solid color; it's covered with a garden scene done by several different hands, going by the skill variation. Bucky runs his thumb over one of the hundreds of flowers as they walk past it to feel how thick the tiny acrylic mountains are. One of the petals cracks under the light pressure of the move, making him frown. The mural's not sealed at all, despite being long dried. Not the kind of thing maintenance usually overlooks.

An absolute shock of color hits Bucky's eyes when he gets his first look at the neurosurgeon's office. The walls he can spot from this side of the entryway are lined with tie-dye hanging cloths, and the floor is covered in fluffed-up, vibrant rugs. There's not a hint of SHIELD regulation left in the architecture, with all the walls that aren't glass holding even more heavy paint globs. Some of the murals are more flowers, but a majority of them are space themed.

The stench of antiseptic fades the farther into the room Bucky goes. By the time the door shuts behind him, it's entirely replaced with the warm aroma of apples and cinnamon. A long, curved desk is off to one corner, pushed against the glass wall overlooking the city and covered in picture frames. An arrangement of chairs piled with pillows matching the rest of the decor sits in the center. Each one of them is fucking massive.

The room itself is separated in half by a thick glass wall. He can spot two doctors sitting behind an array of equipment on the other, equally decorated side behind the glass. There isn't any creative paint in there from what he can spot. If it weren't for that, he could almost forget that he's standing in a medical lab.

Almost.

"Hi there," comes a voice to his right.

The woman it belongs to almost blends in with the office once Bucky turns his head to look at her. The lab coat that comes down to her knees is a solid blue rather than tye-dye, but it's covered in stitched designs. Most of them are shaped like bees. Bucky barely stops his eyebrows from raising at the sight of the outfit underneath. Loose cloth pants hanging low on her hips, with even more bees on them, and a hand-knit top that would have been called obscene during most of the decades he woke up in. The bun she's pulled her hair into must have been done this morning; more than a few bundles are hanging down haphazardly. Bucky hasn't met a lot of brain surgeons that he knows of, but he doesn't remember any of them having glasses as thick as hers. He's pretty sure that good vision is something most of them need for the job. Not that he's nervous.

She walks over with a warm smile, already extending a hand to him. She's a short, round little thing. Barely five feet, if his guess is accurate. It always is. "I'm Dr. Ryder. You can call me Ava. I'm told you're my newest patient."

He accepts the shake with a nod and tries not to think about how sweaty his hand might feel to her. Wiping it against his pants would have been too weird. "James."

"But you prefer Bucky, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. Ava," he corrects himself quickly.

"Oooh, someone's stepped on some toes in the new century." Her smile takes on a teasing edge. "I'm originally from Canada; you won't find me taking offense. Ingrained cultural manners are a bitch to hold back."

"Careful, they're the only manners he's got," Steve warns, already heading for one of the chairs.

"Ignore him. I'm house-trained," Bucky assures her. Taking his hand back, he hikes a thumb over his shoulder, needing something to stall with. "You sure you don't want someone to give your door a few clear coats? It'd be a shame to see all that work chip off."

Ava waves dismissively. "We redo it a lot; it's a relaxation project around here. It'll look different pretty soon." She points toward the glass wall separating the two halves of the office. "I've got the rest of the team working on a project to give us some space, but I can bring them in for a minute if you'd like to meet them?"

"I'm... I'm alright for now, thanks. I can meet them—whenever."

She doesn't insist further or comment on the blatant nerves in his voice. Her hand waves at the arranged chairs as she moves to sit in one. "Take your pick of the lineup, then. Typically I'd offer to take you to the corner of the roof that we've claimed for ourselves as an alternative. But, I need to keep you in environmental controls for sanitation, at least for the initial visit."

Bucky nods a few times as he sits in the one next to Steve's. His ass sinks nearly a foot into nothing but pillows, and his spine goes rigid. "Here's fine."

He'd have said no anyways, not that he'll mention that. Too many open sight lines with his anxiety on edge. He'll be revisiting the roof before his next appointment to familiarize himself, though, that's for sure. His last trip up there was long before she was even hired. The mental image of bead strings and tye-dye throw blankets on patio furniture flits through his head. If she decorates the same way everywhere, he's guessing it won't be all that hard to find the space.

Ava pulls up a tablet from the coffee table to rest in the middle of her folded legs. He's guessing she's into yoga in her spare time. One of her eyebrows arches at them in amusement. "You know, I've never actually seen someone fill one of these before now."

"The benefits of dosed living," Steve quips, his tone a little too positive. It makes Bucky's foot start to bounce silently against the floor on instinct.

If she notices, the doctor doesn't mention it as she focuses on Bucky. "Steve tells me you prefer when doctors keep things direct with you."

Bucky shifts his eyes over to the man in question, who busies himself with one of the pillows, picking at the hanging fringe. Fucker's going to be hearing about this later, that's for damn sure.

He looks back at Ava. Time to get it over with, he encourages himself. "Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. I know Steve's already told you, but I want you to hear it from my mouth. I have The Soldier's activation memorized."

He can't stop the gut instinct to swallow over hearing the words, but he nods. "I'm okay with it."

"It's not in any of my notes; it never will be. My team understands that there is a specific trigger in place; they need to in order to do their job. But they have no indication of what it is. I'll never write the words out or speak them where they can be picked up. Steve helped me with the pronunciation and the order when he first gave me your records, but you have my word that I won't be repeating them."

"You should," Bucky insists immediately. "If anything happens, you should, and you shouldn't hesitate about it."

"She knows, Buck," Steve assures him with a murmur. "I took her through the worst case drill. She's got a panic button on her."

"Steve tells me that my reaction time is fast enough for working on your case safely." Ava's head tilts to the side slightly. "Your comfort is the priority here. We can always run through a silent drill together if you'd like the reassurance."

He thinks about it. Honest to god, he lets himself sit in the idea of putting Steve's training to the test for more than a few moments. Neither of them push him for an answer. "I might take you up on that at some point."

She nods, the hair hanging closest to her face bouncing slightly. "Whenever you want. That offer is permanent. I'm taking this case on because I want to help undo what's been done; I'm not here to let it be continued, not even in research." Her eyes shift to Steve, with a bitter defiance building in them. "I trust that'll be clarified to the director if our work here ever reaches his ears, captain."

Steve nods, finally looking up from where he's moved on to picking at the pillow's stitches. "There's no more mud in that water. Fury understands how far over the line we went."

Ava doesn't look convinced in the least. Bucky doesn't blame her, not with the scattered memories of his role in all of it sitting in his head. When she looks back at him, the distrust leaves her eyes. "I'd like to get a better idea of what we'll be working with. I know that's probably going to be one of the most difficult parts of this, so we can try to get through it now if you'd like. Or we can wait until you're feeling more comfortable. It's entirely up to you."

Shifting slightly to straighten out his shoulders, Bucky nods. "I'm ready now."

It's an outright lie, but that doesn't really matter anymore. There's never going to be a time when he is ready. He still needs to do this.

"I'm going to need to adjust your head a few times today," she tells him with a relaxed, melodic tone as she stands up. She lifts a black briefcase from the coffee table and brings it over to rest on the arm of his chair, where he can easily see it being handled. "Is there anywhere you'd prefer me putting my hands? Or anywhere specific you want me to avoid?"

Bucky sees Steve shift his head slightly in his peripheral and wants to roll his eyes. Asshole. He'd have made a joke at the most; he wouldn't have been insulted. Probably. "I can't think of anywhere to steer you away from. You're good to do whatever you need to do."

She doesn't take him into the other section of the room like he thought she would. She doesn't even make him stand back up. All it takes to get the nightmare he's been dreading for years started is Ava pulling a wired, plastic wreath from the briefcase to put over the top of his head. She doesn't push a cold faceplate over his eye and against his temples; no bite guard gets shoved in his mouth. There's no frigid metal probing into the top of his neck to make his teeth buzz until he wants to rip them out of his jaw. The air around him isn't humid and suffocating like it was in that bunker. He can't hear the hum of electric coils or the squeak of leather boots on linoleum.

He's not in Siberia. He's in New York. This isn't a HYDRA agent strapping him down. This is a hippie, who definitely smoked pot this morning, putting a sensor on his head that barely has any weight.

"Here, hold this for me," she tells him from behind his chair, offering her tablet over his shoulder. He takes it silently, bringing it to rest in both hands. A digital scan of his brain is already being mapped out on the screen. It's the first time he's seen the anchor that wraps around his brainstem since the X-rays HYDRA used to leave up like trophies. "We can get a look at this thing together."

Bucky takes a deep breath in. It's… not a pretty sight. Whatever they put in him isn't registering in the bright blue lights of the rest of his brain. They're all dark spots, primarily lines branching out from the anchor that might as well be a black hole.

"You see that?" Ava leans forward to run her nail up the path of one of the lines. It starts at the anchor, and it's attached to another point further up, but that junction is the source of even more lines that go all over. There's a fucking mechanical spider web in his brain. "That's your motor cortex, and those links are tethered to your arm, starting there. That—the one right there—is what's making your cybernetics work."

"What's the rest of it?" There's a fucking lot of it, whatever it is. A lot more than he remembers being put in.

"Considering the intent of the Nazis that had you, the end goal was probably total control." Her finger moves, tapping several things that look way too fucking important as she keeps talking. "All of those there are connected to your essential functions: breathing, heart rate, consciousness. From there, they branched out into trying for control over your limbs. Jesus." She leans further over his shoulder and pinches at the screen to zoom in. "It looks like they were already building into your entire cognitive process."

"What does that mean?" Steve asks, worry rising in his tone.

"It means they were reckless on top of being cruel. And fucking stupid—pardon my French."

"You're talking to soldiers, doc," Bucky reminds her quietly, his brows drawn in as his eyes trace the black spots in his grey matter.

"Right. In that case, fuck every last one of them and the horses they rode... into whichever circle of hell they're burning in, I guess." Bucky's lips twitch slightly as she zooms back out. "They were venturing into parts of the brain that haven't been studied enough for human testing, even by today's standards. Blindly poking just to see what worked; my guess is because they knew that you could survive it. You see that big scary thing under your hippocampus?"

Bucky nods as she taps at the anchor. "Yeah. Yeah, that was… that was the first part. That got put in, I mean." He clears his throat when it starts to scratch. "I'm. I'm pretty sure it was the first part."

"Do you want to know why you don't feel sure?" she asks gently. Her voice has dropped to something much softer. It makes him sit back in the overly comfortable chair incrementally.

"Yeah," he tells her quietly, honestly. He wouldn't have a year ago.

Ava circles her finger around the center of his brain, where one of the more prominent lines from the anchor holds several thinner, black branches. "That's your limbic system. It controls emotion, memory, behavioral habits, that kind of thing. They fried it at some point trying to get to your memories, I assume. My team has the photograph from your HYDRA file, the one with the X-ray from your initial brain surgery. I've studied it with my own eyes. That serum in your bloodstream is the only thing that brought you back from being a vegetable. The salvaged notes from the initial facility they kept you in mention months of unresponsiveness and varying levels of brain activity.

"There's a reason you can't remember who you were then, Bucky. They wiped you clean because they knew you, out of all their test subjects, could recover from it. There wasn't enough left of your mind to hold memories, much less any kind of higher will." He hears her clothes shuffle behind him and sees Steve turn his head to look back at her from the corner of his eye. "I'm more than willing to testify to that in any court on Earth, captain. So we're clear."

"Understood," Steve replies, his voice thick. "I appreciate that."

Fuck, so does Bucky. Too bad he can't get his throat to open back up at the moment.

"Now, let's talk about the hard part." He hears Ava sigh. "From what I can see, there's no way we can remove any of this. Not by any standard that I'm willing to entertain, at least."

Bucky shakes his head and tries clearing his throat again. It doesn't feel anywhere near as successful this time around. "That's fine. I don't—I don't think I'd… I wouldn't be ready for that. I just want to know it's not…."

"Capable of being controlled remotely?" she offers when he trails off.

"Yeah. Aside from the code. I don't—that's not a problem. They're dead. Anyone else that had it, I mean." Christ, his foot's going to bounce straight out of his boot, right through the leather.

"I can't make any kind of assurances at this stage when it comes to that. But you have my word that it will be my team's primary focus." Her hand pulls back, and he feels four of her fingertips lightly rest on his shoulder. "I'd prefer to check that connection point they left over your spinal cord before you leave today, but the rest of what we need for diagnostics can wait until another time."

Bucky pulls in a heavy breath through his nose. "Yeah. I'm ready to do that."

"I need to get a few things for it and check in with my team." She taps at the side of the wreath lightly. "You don't have to keep looking at the scan, but you should leave this on while I'm gone so we can get some basic readings."

"You're the boss, doc." He tries not to make it look like he's in a hurry to get the thing out of his hand when he dumps the tablet on his leg.

"I'll be back in just a bit," she tells them, calmly shuffling off into the other half of the office. The glass door hisses loudly as she goes through it, confirming it's a sterile lab. The wall frosts over shortly after with the privacy screen activating.

Neither of them says a word for the first few minutes.

"Well," Steve finally offers up, his voice still as thick as when he thanked the doctor. "There's the confirmation you've been waiting for."

"That's not what that was—"

"Alright, you know what? Fuck you very much, Buck—"

"Fuck me? Fuck me? Yeah, I guess that's how it works now, what with you making alll the fucking calls—"

Steve's finger comes sailing into his face. "This affects more than just—" He stops with a short, muted groan and yanks his hand back to shove through his hair. After a moment, he lets it fall to his thigh in a clenched fist. "You want to sit here blaming yourself for it all, fine. I've got no right to tell you to stop when I'm still doing the exact same thing. But I'm pulling you through this whether," his voice goes high and mocking as he turns to glare a hole into the side of Bucky's head, "yooou like it or not. I let you fall once; I'm not fucking doing it again, asshole."

Bucky stares down a lava lamp sitting on the coffee table for a long, silent moment, his face pinched. He counts the number of wiggling blobs floating from the top to the bottom. He takes in their shared color and picks as close to a stupid paint name for it as possible. One by one, his photographic memory goes down the list of stupid colors from that stupid swatch wall at the stupid art supply store that Steve takes him to when he can't sleep at three in fucking the morning. He decides on fuchsia because it sounds extra stupid. There're twelve in total, they're fuchsia, and his best friend is as stupid as the name of their color.

The anger eventually eases up. "You're the asshole."

Steve sits back in his chair with a sigh. "Love you, too."

It takes a long minute of grinding his teeth for Bucky to force out the question that won't stop echoing in his head. "She doesn't know about the others?"

"She knows there were other attempts, but no, I didn't tell her any of them were successful. I left my notes in her file on what's been held back from her, along with the things she knows that her team doesn't. You can tell her whatever you want; that's up to you. I really think you should read through all of their files."

"Yeah?" Bucky snaps mockingly. "I really think you should kiss my ass."

Steve reaches out to grab one of the magazines from a stack on the coffee table. His posture is resigned and absolutely screaming I know better than you right now, idiot. "You should grow the fuck up."

—

There's no way the notes from HYDRA cover all his surgeries, not with this much framework built up inside his brain.

Steve warned her to expect something like this. The bastards passed Bucky around like a science experiment over the decades. Whenever a station was compromised, all of its records were destroyed to safeguard HYDRA's critical secrets, the work and confirmed existence of the Winter Soldier being one of them. Only a handful were raided by SHEILD efficiently enough to prevent further loss of his medical history. What remains is the scattered works of solitary minds spanned across decades.

In Ava's opinion, not one of those minds should have been granted the mercy of seeing daylight again after their senseless, abhorrent, despicable crimes against the sergeant. Never in her life has she been a violent woman, but given a blunt object and five minutes with the lot of them, she'd have been very tempted to rebalance nature with ruthless gusto.

A hand nudges at her arm, pulling her from her distraction with a quick inhale. "Sorry, repeat that?"

Wyatt's eyebrows pull in sympathetically. "Y'can hand this part off to one of us, boss."

"You can hand it off to him," Hannah interrupts briskly, her eyes never moving from where they're pressed against a microscope.

"Y'can hand it off to me," Wyatt rapidly corrects with a warm smile. He drums his stylus against his arm and leans against the lab's center console. The movable hologram program Tony gifted them is already building detail into one of the darkest acts in human history. Right there, in front of one of the most gentle souls Ava's ever met. The contrast makes her stomach drop. "I mean it; y'know me, I got a real sweet touch. Betch'a the sergeant wouldn't even know I'd been there til it was over."

"Don't make me say it, Combs." Hannah almost sounds bored. The former marine is in a good mood today.

Wyatt doesn't even bother with throwing a quip back at her. He's usually wise enough to know when he's in a losing battle. Reaching out, he gives Ava's shoulder a supportive bump. "You said so yourself; he's alright with meetin' us."

Ava shakes her head, bringing her hand up to rub at the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are stinging hard enough to make them water. She shouldn't have pulled an all-nighter before this; it definitely isn't helping her frustration. "He's okay with it; that doesn't mean he's ready for it. You should see the way he's practically vibrating in that chair. There's not one part of this he isn't forcing himself through. I want to try to limit contact until he feels like he's in control of the space around him."

"That won't take long," Hannah comments quietly, reaching for another slide. "There are certain habits infiltrators don't lose."

"Speakin' from your own experience on that one?" Wyatt asks, curiosity creeping into his tone. Their eternal beacon of southern sunshine has yet to give up chasing details about her, unlike everyone else who visits their little medical corner.

"Infiltrator is not the classification I would have given myself. I was never very subtle in my old line of work."

"Yeah, 'cause subtle's definitely the word I'd pick for your blunt ass now." Wyatt rolls his eyes and extends his hand to rapidly spin the projection of Bucky's brain with the flick of a stubby finger. "Either'a you looked at these trenches much yet? There's different cablin' in every major section. None of it's got a set standard, far as I can tell."

"I don't think he ever had the same doctor for more than two surgeries." Ava leans heavily against the console with a sigh, trying not to let herself venture into the mindset of a terrified soldier. She has to stay detached, or this will eat her alive before they're even halfway done. The enlarged hologram already hurts to look at in more ways than one. "Steve confirmed that HYDRA intermittently lost sections of his records through the years. All of this could be fractured by the decades; we won't know until Paige starts getting a read on the programming behind that main port."

"How do you want us to handle data transfer?" Hannah asks.

"Let's keep this off our internal server as much as we can help it. Tony sectioned off a virtual instance that we can burn when needed, but the only time you should be using that is for his scans. Put everything else on an isolated hard copy here in the lab, wherever you can do it without hindering the work. I want the equipment analysis kept as off-record as possible. I don't want this being recreated. By anyone."

"Definitely agreein' with you on that one, boss." Wyatt pokes his finger into the projection's left frontal lobe, halting its slowing spin. "I know we said extraction ain't the goal here, but I'm gonna be runnin' some sims on that when I've got the time. I don't like the idea of leavin' any'a this shit in, even if we do get it identified and nuked."

Ava nods and reaches up to give his shoulder a warm squeeze. "Let me know what initial paths you route; we can build from there. I doubt he'll be ready for any extensive work for years to come, but the least we can do is present him with some options." She takes a deep breath through her nose as she looks over the port connection on the hologram. "Alright, I'll be back after I finish his consultation."

"Good luck, boss," Wyatt encourages with a smile. "Tell the sergeant we said hi."

She waves her hand over her shoulder with a hum and braces herself to face her latest patient again.

The sergeant himself is sitting just as stiffly as he was when she left, but the captain has moved on to relaxing with a magazine in his hands. They both look up at the sound of the door opening, with a laid-back smile on Steve's face and a forced one on Bucky's. She almost wants to tell him that he doesn't have to make an attempt.

"Sorry for the wait; needed a quick check-in with the brain trust." And to not want to throw something heavy through Tony's fancy glass walls. "They wanted me to pass along their hello's. Dr. Combs, in particular, is very excited to meet you."

Bucky huffs a silent laugh through his nose as she returns to stand at the side of his chair. She doesn't try to move behind him for the moment. "Yeah, I'm sure I'm real—"

"Buck," Steve cuts in softly with a side eye in his best friend's direction.

"Fascinating?" Bucky's eyes lift to Ava's at her teasing guess, and his responding nod is sheepish. She smiles at the attempted manners. "Your case is as interesting as it is horrific, that's for sure. Lucky for you, we're a morbid bunch, so you can go for the gallows humor whenever you want." She taps at Bucky's arm with the pad of her index finger, trying to warm him up to repeat physical contact. "However, I'm pretty sure Wyatt is looking forward to asking for your autograph above everything."

The sergeant's eyebrows rocket toward his hairline. "What's he looking for? Love, The Winter Soldier?"

"Bucky." Steve doesn't even look over this time; he just drops one side of the magazine to pinch the bridge of his nose.

The sight of an exasperated Captain America sitting in her office makes Ava snort loudly. She doesn't miss the way it makes Bucky's lips raise at the corners. "He comes from a long line of history buffs who believe accurate preservation is the best tool to prevent it from repeating. The guy grew up with battle models and field testimonials from every major war. I'm guessing he had some Howling Commando envy as a kid, though he won't own up to that on his end."

"He knows I was one of them for all of five minutes, right?"

"None of us were Howlies for long," Steve forcefully insists, one foot coming over to kick Buckys. "But that doesn't change the good we did while we were."

"It also won't stop him from chewing your ear off about it if you let him." Ava crosses her arms over her chest in amusement. "My advice is to stop him early. Definitely before he starts asking what you remember about the maps. You've got a real Milo Thatch working on your brain now." Bucky looks up at her in confusion. "Haven't gotten around to Disney movies yet? Milo's a character from Atlantis, one of my personal favorites. He and Wyatt share a certain level of academic excitement."

"I'll add it to the watch list." A small smile comes up, making her wonder what his cheeks look like when he really lets it go. "And keep the point of no return in mind."

She stops herself from gushing about the beauty of the art behind the movie, wanting to honor his headfirst approach. "You ready to get the last part of today's visit over with?"

His shoulders rise with another resigned intake, making her want to be ferociously violent toward the closest available Nazi. "I'm ready when you are, doc."

"My go-to hardware specialist built a prototype connector based on the scans Tony got during your initial intake. It's only the first iteration for the sake of data extraction, so be sure to speak up if anything feels off. Anything at all, even if it's just minor discomfort. She can work on changing it for the next build. I'm sure Steve can attest to Paige's efficiency at her job by now."

The slightest hint of a blush comes over the captain's cheeks at the teasing mention of his numerous visits to the engineering department. "Ms. Findley—"

"Does she ask you to call her that?" Bucky jumps on his best friend with immediately. Ava would feel bad about chumming the waters, but the banter is making him relax against the chair.

Steve shuts his mouth momentarily. The blush gets a shade darker before he opens it again. "Paige is a very dedicated worker. And a lovely conversationalist. How do you two know each other? Through Tony?"

Now Ava really does feel bad. She puts a hand on her hip and tries to keep her smile from growing. "No, I'm the one who introduced them. She's been my best friend for about fifteen years now."

Steve freezes, and Bucky's grin takes over the lower half of his face. The sergeant sits all the way back, with shoulders that are perfectly at ease. "Oh, good. If I think of anything later, I can just have Stevie drop it off for me. I'd hate to forget between appointments."

Ava pulls the wireless reader and its port connector from the briefcase on Bucky's chair. She steps up behind him and tries not to let her eyes linger on how his smile lights up his face or how it warms her chest to see. Her free hand comes to rest on his left shoulder, leaving the exit door in his right peripherals. "This shouldn't take more than a few minutes at most. Ready?"

"Hit me." It almost doesn't sound forced.

She lifts his hair and runs her thumb over the port once to brace him for the new sensations before lining up the connector. As she'd explicitly requested of Paige, the mechanism doesn't snap into place when she locks it in, meaning there's no responding vibration to move through his skull. The notes from Bucky's therapist that were passed along didn't mention it, but they hardly mention anything at all. There's a lot he's holding back, there has to be, and she's been trying to preempt as much of it as she can.

Bucky's nails dig into the arm of the chair, and he inhales sharply. After a moment, his fingers start to relax one by one. Ava watches them all, her eyes moving between his hands and neck repeatedly, while the reader begins its data harvest. She gives him long enough to get a few steady breaths in.

"Have you started any animated movie binges?" she prods, wanting to stall for time to get a closer look at his implant. With him letting her hold up his hair like this, it might be her only chance for the foreseeable future.

"Sam's gotten me to sit through a few of his picks," he replies tensely.

"Mmm. I'm guessing Mister Feathers is a Pixar fan."

"I know that's an animation studio, but that's the extent of my expertise on the subject. Are they the ones who made Lilo and Stitch?"

"He did not make you watch that one first."

"He did, but that's technically not my first animated movie. We had them back in the 30s, you know."

"Some of us still call it animation's golden age," Steve mutters in the most crotchety old artist fashion, his eyes back on the magazine in his lap.

"Take a look around this room, Rogers," Ava sasses. "Do I look like someone who'd argue with you about its significance?"

"Point taken."

Her eyebrows pull in while she looks over just how much of Bucky's spinal cord is exposed to outside influence. She knows how far the port runs thanks to the scans, but now she's getting an eyeful of movable hatching and flesh that will never get the proper chance to heal.

"How are you handling the daily care of this?" she asks, running her finger around one edge of the port.

"I do it," Bucky tells her simply.

Her eyes lock on the back of his head in disbelief. "You do… what, exactly?"

"I've got a morning routine for it. Clear the excess buildup, sterilize the whole area, work the skin, that kind of thing."

"You understand that this has direct access to your brainstem, right?"

"I know." He shifts his weight in the chair. "I'm careful."

"I have several medical degrees, one of which is entirely focused on the human brain, and even I would hesitate to approach this on my own body. If anything that can give you so much as a hundred-degree fever touches this, you're dead, Bucky." She lets the hand not holding up his hair come to rest on his shoulder. "I'm not trying to scare you with this, but as your doctor, I need to make sure you understand the severity here. I don't want you doing this yourself anymore; I want you to come to my office for it."

"That's not necessary—"

"What time do you want him here in the mornings?" Steve asks, ignoring Bucky entirely.

"I don't need to come here in the mornings—"

"It doesn't have to be every morning," Ava offers, wanting to give him a compromise. She's definitely not letting him go back to doing it himself. "I can set up a stable cleaning routine every other day whenever you have the time to come in."

"I have it handled, really—"

"I wouldn't push it past three days, though."

"Every other morning," Steve agrees. "That's perfect. JARVIS can keep an eye on the schedules for him."

"I've got working fucking eyeballs," Bucky almost shouts, making Ava and Steve finally let up.

She squeezes her hand on his shoulder, half in apology, half in sympathy. "Yes, you do. But they happen to be in the front of your head. My eyes can see the back of your neck without a mirror, and they've got a decade's worth of disgustingly thorough medical training behind them. You came here because you're ready for this to get done. Now you actually have to let me do it."

Bucky lifts a hand as if he's about to argue but then lowers it with a soft sigh. "Yeah... yeah, alright. But I'm not always going to be here in the mornings—"

"She said it doesn't have to be the mornings," Steve cuts in again.

"You know what I mean, jackass. I'm not always going to be here consistently. I have, you know, a job that you try to boss me around on—"

"We can make sure you've got a trained medic to help—"

"No, Grant."

The words are said softly, and it takes a moment for Ava to even remember that it's the captain's middle name, but something happens in the wake of them. Steve's relentless push stops on a dime, and the fight leaves Bucky's shoulders. The two of them relax marginally, and Steve nods once. "Okay. So, we establish the routine here. Get it ironed out; get you practiced with it. Then I'll clear you for doing it yourself on missions. But if you miss even one while you're here, so help me—"

"I got it, I got it."

Steve watches Bucky with a tightly held expression for another long moment. Then he looks up at Ava with a nod. "He'll be here, and I'll make sure he's not cleared for another mission until you two have a stable routine for taking care of this."

Ava gives Bucky's shoulder another light squeeze. "I promise it'll be quick every time. I'll work with Paige on making you a field kit. In the long run, this shouldn't interrupt your normal day-to-day much at all."

"Appreciate the effort, doc." Bucky gives a soft grunt. "Sorry for the. Y'know. Pushback."

"I think the world owes you a little more than patience as backpay, Sergeant. I'm happy to help where I can."

—

Febuary 19th 2018

"I can handle it if you want me to."

"No. No, I... I can do it."

"You're sure?"

"You think I can't?"

"I think you look like you're about to throw up on my shoes."

"I don't like the idea of... starting off like that."

"That's why I'm offering to do it."

"No. It should be me. There are things you won't be able to explain."

"You can always fill in the blanks when she shows up for Soldat training."

"What a great alternative first impression! Hello, ma'am, not only am I a complete jackass, but I also delegate my role as—"

"You're not delegating; you're assigning the right person to the job. And this takes away the need for you to be a jackass."

"Leaving you to be a confrontational bitch in someone's eyes?"

"What's the issue there?"

"That's not what you are, Nat."

"Says who?"

Steve reaches out to smack the side of her arm. "That's one of my closest friends you're ragging on."

"She can take it." Natasha looks over at him, a bored hike to one brow. "Let's stay focused on what the doctor can take. This won't be like the therapists. We can't put him through multiple doctors on this. We'll only get one or two tries before he draws the hard limit."

He nods, turning his eyes back to the closed elevator doors. "Right. Right, it's for a good reason. I can do it."

"You don't have to. I can handle it."

"I know. But it should be me." He knocks the side of his boot against hers. "Thank you."

"Always. Let me know how it goes."

Natasha's off the elevator before the doors are even finished opening, leaving Steve to collect himself alone. He pushes off the back railing with a heavy sigh. No part of this is going to be easy to stomach. He's accepted that. He exits the elevator with a resigned set to his shoulders.

The medical wing is dark this late into the day. JARVIS already confirmed that the doctor is still in the building. From the AI's reports, she pulls late nights like this regularly. It bodes well for what he'll have to ask of her and her team.

He stops to admire the heavy paint on the outside of the lab's door. There's days worth of work here, clearly a labor of love. It takes until he's admiring the fourth flower of his perusal to notice that it's not all the same artist. He scans it a bit quicker after that, trying to take a guess as to how many different hands took part. His best guess is four.

Accepting that he's been inadvertently stalling, Steve pushes it open roughly. He probably should have expected the onslaught of color in the room from seeing the door. It still hits him hard enough to make him do a double-take through his exaggerated annoyance. The doctor sitting on the other side of a very large desk nearly jumps out of her chair.

"Christ Al-fucking-mighty," she swears, one hand coming up to brace against her chest. Steve gets nailed with a furious glare. "Knock much?"

Well, that's one test passed. "Are you Dr. Ryder?"

"I am. Who the hell wants to—oh." Recognition dawns on her face as Steve gets close enough to be illuminated by her desk light. The fury in her shifts toward indignance. "I happen to hold a lot of respect for you, at least during normal business hours. So, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here and let you have a moment to explain yourself, captain."

He almost starts with an apology, but he catches himself in time. "I've been told you're one of the best neurosurgeons we're in contact with—"

"No, you've been told I am the best." She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair. Her head inclines toward him. "You can continue."

Steve's reservations about her being able to handle Bucky are leaving rapidly. It almost makes him smile. He holds it together with his best captain voice. "I need your expertise on a consultation. A private consultation. Completely off SHEILD books."

"Am I being roped into the organization's second overhaul?" There's bitterness lingering in her tone. The kind Steve remembers feeling on his own end for months leading up to Fury's near-assassination.

"No. When I say private, I mean private. This isn't under SHIELD purview. I'll be expecting discretion if you think you're up to the case, so we're clear."

The doctor's eyebrows sail up, and her head moves back far enough to hit her chair. "I'll be expecting you to hand over some details before I agree to a damn thing. As a follow-up, you can provide me with an explanation as to why this needed to be done an hour before midnight, with no forewarning and definitely no respect. Otherwise, you can turn your happy ass back around and go find the other neurosurgeons you didn't feel like harassing first."

Damn. He really should have gotten Natasha to do this; she's faster with proper comebacks. "You'll be given information as you need to know it. First, I need to make sure that—"

"First, you can fuck off." Her head shifts to one side as he pauses. "I don't respond well to authority, captain. I'm sure whatever's going on is very important if it's got America's Sweetheart making an ass of himself in the middle of my office on a Monday night. But that's not really my problem. It could be, were I given a reason to care about it."

"Does rectifying war crimes warrant your valuable attention, doctor?" The words feel awful leaving his mouth; she doesn't deserve to get barked at like this. But he needs an honest indication of how she'll react to a bad day.

Ava watches him with a slightly open mouth for more than a few tense moments. Then recognition dawns for a second time, and her eyes roll dramatically. "Oh, for god's sweet sake. You could have just asked if I have experience with PTSD patients. Hell, you were clearly sent by Tony, and I met the man at a veteran's benefit, so you could have asked him. Barnes' presence on the Avenger's roster isn't exactly a secret these days."

Steve holds himself still, then shifts his weight to one foot. "You met at a veteran's benefit?"

She nods slowly, with a bit of mockery behind the motion. "Yes. Almost a decade ago. He funds most of my work with the VA."

That hadn't been included in her resume. He didn't want to invade her privacy by pulling her file until she agreed to it. Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks. Then the anger starts to surface. "You know, I'm not one hundred percent sure I was supposed to know that."

"You think?" The words are bone dry, and her posture is still defensive, but there's a smile working its way up from the corners of her lips.

"Look, I...." Steve raises a hand to the back of his neck sheepishly. "I apologize. I promise it's not about doubting your professionalism—"

"It's about protecting family, yeah, I get it." Her arms don't unfold from her chest. But her eyebrows do come back down.

"He's very important to me. I want to make sure he's in good hands, that's all."

"Well?"

Steve's brows draw in. "I wasn't trying to dump the case on you right now—"

"No, idiot." Her eyes roll again, with much less aggression. "I'm asking if I passed."

"Oh." He nods, his cheeks still feeling far too hot. "With flying colors, so far. There's still a lot more to cover before we get Bucky involved, but. Yes, ma'am. I think you'll handle him just fine."

With a sigh, her arms finally lower. She extends a hand out in his direction. "Ava Ryder. It's very nice to meet you, Captain Rogers."

He takes her hand with a firm shake, inclining his head apologetically. "It's very nice to meet you, as well, doctor. You can call me Steve."

"You can call me Ava. So can James whenever I'm finally graced with his presence."

Yeah. She'll do just fine. "He prefers Bucky. And I'm sure he'll provide you with a much more agreeable first impression. All that can wait until you don't look like you're going to fall asleep on your keyboard, though.

Ava smiles warmly at him, falling back against her chair as she takes back her hand. "I'm looking forward to it. You can send me the details on the case at a reasonable hour to make up for scaring the shit out of me."

"Yes, ma'am." He tips his head respectfully, already backing up from her desk. "Sorry for the scare. And for being so disrespectful. He really is—"

"Important to you." She waves her hand dismissively before reaching up to push at her glasses. "I get it, don't worry. I'd be twice as much of a wreck in your shoes. You're doing fine."

Sometimes, on the rarest of occasions, there are benefits to having the worst moments of his life in the history books. "I appreciate that, thank you. You have a good rest of your night, ma'am. I'll send—I'll have JARVIS send you his file—"

"Captain Rogers is unaware of how to forward SHEILD files, doctor," the AI cuts in gleefully.

"I had my suspicions, JARVIS; thanks." She waves her hand again, this time in goodbye, as she looks back at her computer screen. "Please don't trip on my carpet and bust your ass on the way out of my office."

Steve pointedly turns on his heel, glad for the excuse to hide his burning face. He all but races to the door. "I'll be in contact, doc."

"Mhmm."

When he pulls open the painted door, he's almost unsurprised to find Natasha leaning against the other side of the hallway. She doesn't move at all, but one side of her mouth lifts in a smirk.

Steve lets the door shut softly behind him before cocking his head to the side. "Very cute. You two in on it together?"

"No, but sniffing out Tony's bait didn't take long. You'd have noticed, too, if you weren't so far up Bucky's ass." Her head tilts in the opposite direction as his. "Feel better?"

He straightens up with a nod. The motion feels confident. "Much."

—author's end notes, yoinked straight from ao3—

“what’s paige like?” well. to put it simply. she is every last ounce of karma that steve has earned by lovingly terrorizing his best friend 😌

i feel like the overall theme got covered enough with this to tell if the plot is for you or not. flirting starts next, but isn't super blatant until chap 4. i am in zero rush and will have no problem with dedicating an entire chap to cuddling tbh, this is a comfort project im in for the long haul. check back later for * to get full smut taste, current (possibly changing) map has it in chap 9. OR you can check back for kinktober, i have all 31 days outlined for these idiots. i need starfield to be good so i can do smut for that too, bethesda pls

keep in mind this will get sci-fi weird at times, and loosely ref/revolve around greek myth tropes bc iiiii like ‘em ❤️ im a fandom ancient who takes no issue with cleaning out the dickhead comments 😌 also i might edit shit. im still not clear on what ao3 will email about a bookmark (god willing its not edits that dont include a new chapter) but just in case i figured id warn for anyone who doesn't want email spam

im gonna try to keep ava and paige as vague as possible, aside from a few scattered physical details so i have SOMETHING to write. my favorite bucky fic in existence is a reader!fic (safe with me is Ungodly levels of good, and i dont just say that as a fellow west wing addict. i constantly forget that his apartment in it isn't actually canon and there're no m&ms hiding for eternity somewhere) so you wont get any judgment from me on replacing both of them right down to their names, that’s how im writing them!! it just feels unfair to tag it a reader fic with them being given SUCH a heavy “presence" i guess

main pov's (the undated ones) will always flip between bucky and ava. the dated ones are other characters pov's OOOOOOR its a flashback in which case it could be the two of them, but ill always try to make it clear whose headspace is focused up front, so i dont think ive set up a hurdle there

thanks for reading ❤️ i love and appreciate feedback immensely ❤️ feeds the brain chemicals 😌 no worries abt spoilers, i feel like anyone looking there knows what theyre risking lmao

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #chapter update #man the way thats going to be the extend of effort i have when it comes to promoing this damn thing #truly astonishing how little fandom energy i have lmao #i sure as shit aint taggin the other ones with anything but my sorting tags lmao #i do not have the Energy #good space

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starleska · 2 years

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i'm not even being patient, you simply respond to all of my asks more than quickly enough <3!! they're pretty long so again, take your time ^^!! therapy can be sooo exhausting so please remember to take care of yourself nd everything <33!

i was talking about a TOTALLY different old man HAHAHA i've been watching a lot of ducktales 2017 and grew fond of both scrooge n flintheart through it lmaoooo,, especially the latter has very few redeeming qualities and is supposed to be insufferable but like,, im in love with the blorbo version of him that lives in my brain, LMAO

ohhh you just know he would REFUSE to do the animation if anyone else was obviously watching the screen as well- it's just for you <33! i imagine he wouldn't do it either if you're recording it, because he wants it to be only for you haha,, you think very hard about the unlock conditions for the specific animation but it seems completely random! oh well. (totally self indulgent note here but i am silly in public for a living and would totally blow a kiss back @ the animation or smth LMAO) and!!! ill look forward to seeing it!!! id reblog it but i only rlly have writing blogs on tumblr ughhhh maybe i should just finally make a selfship ramble one lol

the true sadness is that king candy never showed up in the second movie man </3 the chaos he'd wreck on the internet would've been very much entertaining LMAO !!! i'm glad you enjoy the phone idea as well :D!! you just randomly find notes from him in your tumblr drafts or your notes app! he'd be constantly watching you through your front camera and if he's unhappy with someone he sees, your phone will just start vibrating VIOLENTLY nonstop lmao. also something silly i immediately thought of; i don't know if this is something you're familiar with but in some dating sim apps you'll have like this little minigame where you can like poke the love interest and they'll have these little responses? god. brainrot. i would just poke his bald little head man HAHAHHAHAH

my asks just get keeping longer thank u for reading all this and hearing me out TT i should just write a little fic about this guy already but man english is NOT my native language and he speaks in a pretty specific silly way sometimes that i do not know how to replicate well,, doesn't help that ive only watched the english version once vs. the many other times ive seen it haha

hello again you lovely individual!! once again i must apologise for my delayed response. i received some pretty big news this week that's left me not so well, and i wanted to come back and reply properly when in a better frame of mind. thank you for your patience 🥰

OHHH oh my god you are so damn valid for this, i always thought Scrooge was kinda fine 😳 capitalists just hit different! and Flintheart is a GILF i'm not gonna lie 😂😂 Ducktales 2017 just gets you by the throat!! i remember being so head over heels for Gyro Gearloose (basic bitch that i am)…kind of interested in rewatching to see if another bastard catches my attention…but for real, isn't it wonderful when you love a truly dreadful character? whatever version you have of him in your head, i'm sure he likes you very much 😉

ahhh i feel all special 😖💖 honestly going a little down the darker path i kind of vibe with Y/N questioning their reality the more time they spend noticing these special animations…wondering if they're losing touch with their sanity, and becoming gradually more obsessed with figuring out exactly what it is about this arcade cabinet and its enigmatic, unique character…also hell yes!! you should absolutely make the selfship ramble blog, it'll make you feel so happy 💖💖 i admire those of you who can separate your blogs out, i just pour out my silly loves into one place and all my poor followers have to deal with the blorbo of the week 😂

we'll never recover will we 💔💔 like for real Ralph Breaks the Internet makes me sad for its lost narrative potential…if not King Candy, then there were several perfectly good character candidates to be put into a fantastic antagonistic role!! to truly show the power (and horror) of the internet!! the vibrating phone idea is so cute dfgfds;;; perhaps he could even track into your friend's social media and send them fake messages/texts to get them to leave. oh YES i knew someone very into…was it Mystic Messenger? that had that mechanic and oh it's adorable :3c

thank YOU for sending these lovely asks in and gushing about our favourite sweet-themed hacker!! i'm so sorry for being a boring monolingual person - you could and should totally write him in your native language!! do you have any clips? i love seeing how characters have been portrayed in different ways, and i'm curious if Alan Tudyk's lisping mob boss vibe has been carried across 👀

#starleskasks

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enbyeddiediaz · 3 years

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no but @amourbleue 's post abt them being seperated during the blackout got me thinking. it got me thinking loves. and I touched on it in my tags on her post but. eddie and michael being trapped together and buck and bobby trapped or working together.

Michael has been in a position similar to eddie before, closeted dad with feelings for someone who isn't who you're with. they get trapped somewhere together, elevator perhaps, and eddie's trying to get them out but nothing's working so eventually he and Michael just sit on the floor. eventually they get to talking, catching up, asking how eddie's recovery is going, how is david doing, etc. and eventually there's a lull and maybe eddie is thinking abt how buck's call is going since they split up for efficiency and internally he's going "man I wish I was with Buck rn" and gives a little sigh and michaels like "soooo who are you thinking abt to get you to sigh like that" and eddies like "oh, just buck. I was wondering what he's doing on his call right now" and michaels like "oh?" and eddie just starts talking abt buck and how he wishes he was out there with him bc he loves his job but he likes it best when he's at buck's side and he just wants to make sure he's safe and then he starts talking abt their family time with Chris and the entire time michael is sitting there like [knowing gay silence] and then he's like "so you and buck are....?" and eddie blushes bright red and goes "j-just friends, he has a girlfriend" and michael just hums and goes "but is that all you want to be?" and eddies confused and tilts his head and goes "what?" and michaels like "well it's just the way you talk about him, it sounds like you're in love with him" and eddie says "what? no that's-" and then a beat. "oh shit" he says shakily. and michaels just sitting there like "congratulations on your queer awakening" and eddie just leans his head against the wall of the elevator and goes "holy fuck I'm in love with buck" and then "that explains a lot" and then spills it all to michael and michaels like "eddie I don't want to be rude but. you're dense as fuck" and eddie puts his head in his hands and whines "I knooooow" and then kinda desperately "it's just. he's buck, how could I not?"

now for bobby and buck. bucks been ansty abt eddie being back at work bc he keeps seeing eddie falling to the street and bleeding out. bobby picked up on the anxiousness and can guess the source pretty easily. and now that they've split up to be faster, buck is a bit more jittery. not enough to affect him on the job but enough that bobby notices. so he starts talking "you know, when Athena came back to work last year after the incident, I was worried about her all the time. it was like I was tense all the time unless I had my eyes on her to make sure she was safe" and buck is like "ok????" bc he hasn't quite connected the dots yet, and then bobby goes "it's eddie's second week back, right?" and bucks like "yeah????? oh" and bobby just nods and bucks like "but that's different, athena's your wife, eddie and I are just..." "just what, buck?" "well it's...he's..." and he isn't quite sure how to put it into words and says "he's eddie" and they're chugging away and bobby j's considering his next words and then settles on "you remember what you told me after he was shot? that you were just the guy standing right in front of him that couldn't do anything to help him?" and buck nods. "well. that's how I felt listening over the radio with athena. I didn't have to wonder what life would be like without her, I felt it in that moment. and I knew I never wanted to live like that" and at this point bucks breathing has gotten a little unsteady, having nothing to do with the call, and he says "what are you trying to say bobby" softly, with a shaky voice. "you love him, buck." bobby says gently. "n-no, I can't I'm with taylor, bobby I can't be in love with him, I can't-" and he's breathing heavy now, and bobby goes "buck, you gotta breathe" and his breath evens out and he looks bobby in eyes, eyes wide as saucers and goes "oh my god I'm in love with him" and bobby just puts his hand on bucks shoulder and goes "I know, son. and I also know that you'll do the right thing about it." and they finish the call and make their way back to reunite with the team.

the second buck and eddie see each other coming, the both freeze. they stand. they just look at each other, maintaining eye contact. bucks breath hitches and eddies is shaky. everything around them stops and they think at the same time "it's him. it's always gonna be him" and then the moment breaks when bobby calls them over for another call

#im rambling again beloveds #i think we deserve to see flustered eddie. as a treat #every time i have an idea im like 'maybe i should write fic' and every time im like 'maybe later'#i would put this under a cut but. i dont know how to do that #wait i can google it #AHAHAHAHAH I DID IT #no wait hold on what if buck and bobby are getting them out of the elevator and its in between floors and buck gets the doors open and ligh #shines through onto eddies face and he looks up and blinks a bit and then the shot is buck reaching his arm through to eddie and eddie #looking up at him illuminated #i got distracted by the olympics ajdnsnjd #when i finally break and start writing fics its over for you bitches #PARALLEL LOVERS SHOT TO 3.06 AND 4.13 WHEN #just think of how charged it would be with confirmed pining from both sides.....#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #michael grant #bobby bash #911 #911 fox #911 on fox #s5 speculation

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angelamajiki · 3 years

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PARINGS: Pro Hero! Dabi x Sister! Reader

TW: yandere, incest, no con, voyeurism, choking, burning, unprotected/no prep sex, breeding/creampies, snowballing, public sex, degradation, lots of dirty talk

AN: WHEEWW my first fic in a while, so excited for my first join intro collab!! thank you to the lovely jo for writing it <33 enjoy

A BNHarem Server Collab! Check out the other works here.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

Christ, what a load of bullshit the news was nowadays. Constantly whining and squealing about what heroes did and didn’t do, promoting fear-mongering like it was the hottest trend. Between your father and two older brothers dedicating their life to the cause of justice, the world always felt just a little safer to you, the naive little thing that you were. And tonight was no exception.

Despite the rapidly increasing crime rates, your judgment to grab a couple of drinks in the city with your friends was hardly swayed. The stress of it all was getting to you and you’d love nothing more to drink your heart out at one of the few spots still left open. It was a sleazy place, but it was fun. If anything, you found a bar in the area where your eldest brother was currently stationed patrolling.

Touya had always been protective of you ever since the two of you were children, and he carried that same possessiveness well into your adulthood. Always chasing off any potential suitors, keeping you out of trouble, and generally being a menace to anyone who thought they were good enough to be around his favorite little sister.

By the end of the night, stumbling around drunkenly was the only thing keeping you upright as you made your way out of the club and onto the street, looking for a taxi to get you home. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, a mess of blue and red lighting up the darkened streets.

“Hey sweetheart. Need a hand?”

Grubby hands met your arms the same time the cool air of the night did, tugging and pulling at you to come closer, wherever that may be. Jaunts and laughter echoed off the buildings, only adding to the haziness the alcohol induced. “What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all on your lonesome?”

Weak attempts to push the group of assaulters off you were in vain as they groped and squeezed your body at their pleasure. “Come on, we’re just trying to keep ya company. Right, boys?”

“Stop..”

Your whine came across much more pathetic than you could have ever hoped, only earning more chuckles from the men. “Just relax, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

Blue flames danced around the group of you, closing the lot of you against the building wall in a small circle of fire.

“Will you now? Last I checked, I'm the only man suited for that.” Touya was less than amused to have found out from Fuyumi that you traveled into the city given its state, even more so when he saw how drunk and disorderly you were being.

“T-Touya-nii!”

The men untangled themselves from you with ease, tossing you into the arms of your expectant brother, who was more than glad to pull you into a tight embrace. “Shit! It's the number three, Heatstroke!”

The comforting warmth of his body and scent of his cologne settled your frantic nerves, tucking yourself closer into his arms. “Honestly, it’s like you're asking for it at this point.”

Your heart sank low in your chest, but you couldn't find the strength to move away from him as he scowled down at you.

“Look at what you're wearing, you little tease. Bet you would have loved to have them violate you, huh slut?”

Never has Touya been so venomous with you before; it made your heart hurt, even more, to see your beloved nii-san be so cruel.

“Don’t you worry, that’s why your big brother is here to show you who you really belong to.”

Shoved against the wall, he pinned your trembling form with his right knee in between your legs and his hands wandering over your skimpy dress.

“You boys can stick around to watch; let a real man show you how it's done.”

Flames singed at your dress, burning it to ashes to expose you in the cool wind of the night. Hot fingers pressed into your skin, littering marks in their wake before they wrapped around your throat. “You were just begging for nii-san to come to save your slutty ass, huh, princess? I know you checked my patrol schedule before ending up at this dive.”

His hand tightened around your neck, his lips at your ear. “Wanted nii-san to come put you in your place, yeah? After fuckin’ teasing me all these years, you finally cracked me. Are you proud of yourself, little girl?”

A whine slipped from your constricted throat, your smaller hand gripping at the large one squeezing you with everything it had. “And now you've got an audience to witness my ownership over you. You're mine, little girl.”

Finally releasing your throat, his hands traveled down to your chest and groped at your roughly, pinching and pulling at your soft, sensitive nipples. Bile was rising in your throat as you drowned in your own fear, feeling him drag you into the depths of depravity.

“What’s the matter, imouto? I thought you said I was your favorite. You're hurting my feelings, y’know.”

“Touya, please-”

A scoff slapped you hard in the face as his knee jerked up against your cunt. “Don’t start with me. I know who you really are and what you really want, even better than yourself.”

His words stabbed at your heart, and his wandering hands only seemed to pour salt over the wounds. “You’re nothing more than my whore, little sister.”

Hips ground against your backside in a slow, teasing manner, groans pushing past his lips as he did so. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His erection was pressed flush against you, straining in his pants before he unzipped himself. At this point, you were more than sobered up running on fear and adrenaline alone. Your panties were ripped clean off with his free hand while the other stroked his hardening cock. “Look at me.”

The tip was aligned with your hole, rubbing slightly to gather the minimal wetness between your lips. “I said look at me.”

Teary eyes peaked up at him through wet lashes, silently pleading with a man who was not known for mercy.

“Good fuckin’ girl, so obedient for your big brother.”

With one snap of his hips, Touya fully sheathed himself inside of your tight cunt, groaning at the way you squealed for him. “Aw, you like that, huh, princess. Feeling good?”

A warbled moan was the only response you could give him as he slowly began to pull out. The alcohol had you buzzing enough to block out the pain of the stretch, and damn did you feel filled to the brim.

“Can’t wait to breed this greedy little cunt of yours.”

His pace was slow, agonizingly so. Touya couldn't help but savor every second of the first time having been inside you, especially after dreaming about it for so long. God, if it didn't turn him on to have an audience, knowing that these men knew he was fucking his sister.

What would the media think? God, the news cycle would be ripped to shreds tomorrow over this breaking story. But hey, no PR is bad PR.

The thought of finally having staked his claim in you almost had him coming prematurely, but he had to hold out for your very first time together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Heh, your crying face was so cute. Those tears weren't shy by any means and neither were your sobs. It's alright, you’ll learn to love being Touya’s cocksleeve.

“Say you love me.”

An impossible request when you're being violated by the person you held dearest to your heart.

His pace had picked up brutally, slamming into you without care for his flames spreading wildly nor the group of assaulters who seemed to vanish once they had the opening to.

“I-I love you, nii-san! I love you!”

Your cries were shrill and whiny, echoing into the chaotic night. The grip on your hips was heating up, so much so that his handprints were burned into your love handles.

“Good girl, good little slut.”

His breathing was erratic, hot against your neck as he growled and grunted into your ear. “Gonna let nii-san breed this pretty little pussy? Yes, you are. I know you are because you're fuckin’ mine, bitch.”

Moaning out your name, Touya came deep inside your womb, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides. You were soon to follow thanks to his thumb against your clit, causing you to writhe and whine in his arms.

Utterly spent, you rested against the brick wall you were pinned to, feeling the cum drip out of your still filled hole.

“Let’s get you home and into my bed, princess. I gotta go have a chat with Dad and Shouto, let ‘em know you’re fully off limits now.”

— tagging: @libiraki @bonesoftheimpala @tomurasprincess @sightoru

#yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #yandere x reader #yandere

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

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Okay but what about Orc!bucky and Goddess!reader ..😳🤭 Shes an Aphrodite, I can imagine her looking down and seeing orc!bucky and just craving him. They be a great power couple ...

Hi hun! I'm sorry it took me so much time to write this fic, and, well, since most of us already have some depiction of Aphrodite in mind, I decided to make the reader her daughter. Guess the story turned out something very different from what you wanted, but I still hope you will enjoy it!

Somebody to Die For

Pairing: orc!Bucky x goddess!Reader

Warnings: violence, injuries, angst, hurt/comfort.

Words: 2385.

____________________

"I will fight for you till they cut off my arms, my legs, and my head."

You looked at the warrior in front of you, his heavy body clad in armor, his arms holding a spear and a shield you brought to him yourself, earning a slap from your mother, the goddess of beauty who forbid you to help humans so shamelessly, and yet, you always did.

The man standing in front of you was neither orc nor human but the descendant of the both of them, the only hero who could possibly defeat the evil forces when every other man had failed. He's rough; he's rude; he knew little of honor, but he's the one who still fought when the ones before him had long given up. Despite the prejudice against orcs, now even humans understood he was their only salvation.

You hoped he would survive the last battle. Not just because you needed the human kind to have a savior, a leader, the one who would aid them when nobody else would, but because you had grown found of him, the man you had been guiding for years, helping him to protect those who detested him, bringing him hope when he was ready to give up, embracing him when he no longer had the power to hold his spear. A daughter of the goddess of beauty, you were to bring this beauty to the parts of the world where your tired mother could not, but you brought hope instead.

"Fight for me, and if you win, I will fulfill your wish, soldier." You whispered through your golden mask that covered your face entirely, only your eyes visible to the orc standing on his knees.

Your mother never approved of it, but you had seen people going mad from having just one glance at you, your immense beauty blinding them, driving them insane, making them forgot who they were. It was a curse, not a blessing. It was the reason you wore your mask at all times, only showing your face to those your deemed worthy, strong enough to withstand the charms you had no control over.

You knew your hero wanted to see your face more than anything else in the world.

"I will bring you the demon's head on a golden plate, my goddess."

You'd chuckle at his attempt to please you, but you were scared, you feared he would fail, fall, die in the hands of evil forces feasting upon human kind and threatening to destroy all the gods had created. You could not fight along him, possessing no skills to win that battle; moreover, your mother would most certainly kill you if you intervened, breaking the oath you had given to her. You could only help the hero you had chosen while staying in the shadow.

"Stay alive, Bucky." Those were your last words when you pressed the cold lips of your mask to the orc's forehead, giving him your blessing and hiding the tears behind the cold metal.

If only you could fight, but your hands grew cold every time you touched the hero's spear, unable to wield a sword or a mace. The war was not your domain, all the gods kept telling you when you plead them to gift you enough strength and courage to engage in battle. No, your fate was to shine like a golden statue, blinding all those who dared to look at you, bending them to your will like you mother had always done. They couldn't understand your ardent desire to watch over the humankind and all those who needed your help, spending your time healing soldiers, aiding orphans and the elderly, bringing food and water to all those in need. The gods cared little for mortals. Even when the Great Evil appeared out of nowhere, wreaking havoc on the lands belonging to people constantly praying for gods mercy, the immortals were too busy with their own affairs, realizing how serious the matter was when it had been too late.

When the orc you clad in charmed armor stood in front of the army of the undead, the diabolical creatures with horns and gaunt wings growling behind them, ready to strike, you prayed for him to come out of the battle alive. It was his fate to be the last hero standing between the chaos and all what was dear to the living, yet he bore no responsibility for it - he didn't ask to be the hero, to fight when his spear was long broken, go forward while the undead broke his bones and demons feasted upon his flesh, ripping pieces of meat before the orc could crush their heads with his mere hands. You kept casting spells to aid him, knowing your mother would whip you, but you didn't care, healing your hero's wounds so he could fight until he would cut off the head of the Demon King with his own sword.

Your hero was laying on top of demon's dead body, still holding the head even while unconscious as you sneaked into the field full of corpses, bodies of demons and bones of the undead rotting under the blazing sun. Your hero was dying from his wounds, bleeding so much his skin was loosing its color, and now it was your time to bring him back to the living before it was too late.

Oh, you knew your mother could kill you for stealing the salve meant only for gods to heal their wounds, but you no longer cared. What did it matter if the one who saved you all was to pay with his life for everything he had done to protect the living? No, it was unfair. The orc stood to gain nothing from his heroic deeds, gods being too arrogant to acknowledge him properly, but he had the right to keep his life.

And so you carried his heavy body to the springs, washing his wounds, applying the salve generously and casting as much healing spells as you did in your entire life to keep him alive, praying and hoping the gods would take mercy on him. Yes, he was three quarters an orc; he was barbaric, savage, ferocious, but he had kindness in his heart like no other, agreeing to fight for humans who had always utterly despised him. Despite being a brute, he was kind to children, women and elderly people. He had never lay his hand on those weaker than him, except when they attacked him on their own. In the end, he was the only hero who answered your call when all those you had asked for help died on the battlefield, unable to fight the demons and their army of corpses.

It had been three days and three nights you spent tending to his wounds until his heart started beating like of a living being. You cried your eyes out when you heard it. The salve had finally worked, and the open wounds closed, leaving his body scarred but healed; his breath steadied, and soon your hero would come back to you, you knew. Gods had answered your prayers for the first time.

"Am I dead?" Bucky asked you when he opened his eyes on the fourth day as he saw you tired face, your mask long abandoned the moment you brought him to the springs.

You smiled at him and held him close, his head laying on your lap while you witnessed his awakening, his body covered in salve, making his skin shine like pure gold.

"You are alive and well." leaning to him, you left a kiss on his forehead, brushing his dark disheveled hair out of his face, and the orc made an odd sound as if he were purring like a giant cat. "You will live a long life, cherished and honored by those you protected, I promise you."

"Will you keep that one promise you gave me, my goddess?"

He's impatient, he had always been, and you laughed at his eagerness, knowing his body still hurt, but the orc didn't seem to mind it. Was he unhappy with seeing your face? You didn't think so, and yet, apparently, he wanted something else. Gold? Women? Immortality? The last one would be quite hard, that is if gods wouldn't struck you with a lightning or something just to teach you a lesson to be more pliant and respectful.

"What it is that you want, my warrior? I will do whatever you ask me to if it is within my powers, just like I promised."

"It's within your powers, I'm sure." He grumbled, making you laugh even harder at his unusual grumpiness, touching the tips of his tusks, and the orc laughed at you, too.

"What is it, then? Don't keep me waiting, mortal, for even I grew tired of tending to you over four days." Winking at him in the most frivolous manner just like your mother had taught you, you giggled then, and the hero's face lightened up.

"This is not how I imagined it to be, but who cares, anyway." he muttered to himself and sat up, turning to you and hurriedly searching the pockets of his torn pants, obviously empty after his long, intense battle. "Shit! I've brought you golden rings and necklaces and bracelets, but those flying bitches made holes in my clothes. I should have hidden my gifts under some rock before the battle."

"Oh, you should have!"

He's impossible, you thought as you both snickered, his huge, calloused hands touching gentle yours. He brought you gold? What for?

"Well, whatever, I'll find more for you later if you don't mind, goddess. Will you give me the honor of becoming my wife even if I didn't bring you the gifts?" The orc tilted his head to the side, looking at you as if it were just a mere matter of something minor, unimportant, but soon, as he watched you openly gape at him for his audacity, he quickly bowed his head, kneeling in front of you.

You were speechless. For once, you had never for once suspected of the hero having these feelings for you. Surely, he prayed to you, he respected you as a mortal should respect their deity, he was intrigued by your true appearance you had concealed from him, but his spoke of marriage seemed preposterous. Was it your face again, your mother's charms? No, no, it couldn’t have been it for the hero intended to bring you gifts, wedding gifts, that is. He had come prepared.

Unbelievable. Did his feelings grow while he didn't even know how you looked?

"Forgive me my insolence, goddess." he mumbled, realizing his offer could be a grave offense to you, a being standing way higher than him. "But I can serve you till the end of my days, do whatever you tell me to. If I have survived the last battle and brought people salvation they wanted, I must be good enough, right?"

"Will you serve me even if I am not your wife?" You asked him quietly, looking at your hands covered in the balm you stole from the gods just to heal his wounds, knowing you were attracted to him despite your feelings never being voiced.

For a couple of seconds the orc grew silent, watching the carpet you put him on to tend to his wounds: it had been soaked in his blood that now dried out.

"I will serve you even then." He uttered grimly, refusing to look you in the eyes, his gaze on your hands as he kept sitting in front of you.

Afraid to speak, you fell silent too, wishing to touch him, brush your hand against his disheveled hair. Oh, didn't you want him? Didn't you wish to be embraced by the very hero you spent years guiding and healing so he would continue his journey? Didn't you deserve to be loved, the daughter of the goddess of that very same love you'd been craving for so long?

But your hero was a mortal. You were frightened to even think what gods would do to him for his impertinence.

Oh, evil gods. You spent years to teach and guide the mortal hero they despised who brought the salvation to the lands they were so afraid to lose, and yet neither him nor you were given anything in return. Instead, they were granting you a torture of refusing advances of the only one dear to you.

Please, darling.

Your mother's irritated voice cut through the silence like a knife, and you froze, knowing she was rolling her eyes at you, watching you secretly like she often did.

You have a heart of stone if you reject the man who is standing on his knees in front of you. I grant you my permission if you so need it.

As her mighty voice rang in the complete silence of a cave, Bucky shivered, immediately getting on his feet. Of course, he knew nothing of your mother except that she was a goddess, and he had never heard her voice. It didn't matter to you, though, as you stared at him, dumbfounded.

Permission. She granted you her permission to marry him. You were free to act as you like, knowing the gods wouldn't bring their wrath upon your hero.

"I will have you if you promise to love and cherish me like no other, protect me, and be loyal to me until your last breath." You whispered, your eyes full of tears as you watched him from below while he towered above you, and the next second he was on his knees again, taking your arms in his and kissing your tears away.

"Even if my face will be disfigured, my tongue cut off, and my body dismembered, I will love you till my last breath." his voice was so quiet, yet you heard him as if he were screaming at the top of his voice. "I promise to worship you and come to you aid whenever you need me."

Hurriedly ripping a piece of his ragged, soaked in blood clothes, he wrapped it around your finger like it was a ring he had lost.

"My soul, my heart, and my sword - everything I possess I give to you."

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @iheartsebandchris

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #orc!bucky #winter soldier #mcu #mcu fanfiction #requests

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bchanslvr · 3 years

Note

☁️ Hi I love your writing! Especially your Harry fics, I read them all most every night. So I was wondering if you can do nswf blurb of the reader having a crying kink with sub!harry. Thank you so much!

Ty! ☁️ - Nswf Blurb:

word count - 2k

warnings - mommy kink, sub!harry, anal fingering, pegging, dacryphilia and i think that’s it.

Harry Potter. Never in your life did you think that you’d have Harry Potter on your bed. Let alone crying.

You had told him that you wanted to try something new during sex. He agreed of course, ever the brave Gryffindor. Though he wasn’t expecting you to turn up to his dorm with a strap? Is that what it was? He’d heard about it before but he didn’t know much. It was shaped like a dick, but pink. He was curious on what this thing was but didn’t say anything because he wasn’t allowed to.

You started off gently by kissing him, taking control by pining his hands on both the sides of his head as your tongue invaded his mouth, trying to get him into the mood. And soon enough his dick was rock hard, and he was squirming underneath you.

You smirked as you finally broke the kiss for air. Conjuring some lube wandlessly. You put it to the side and started undressing, ordering him to do the same.

You were both completely nude by the time you were on him again, a wolfish grin adoring your face sending shivers down Harry’s spine. You pecked his lips once more and began uncapping the bottle, pouring a generous amount on your fingers.

You’ve done this once before when Harry had suggested it. He’d seen the way your fingers moved in and out of your cunt, your back arching as your fingers found your g-spot. And he wondered how it felt. Seeing the way that your were completely in pleasure as you bucked your hips.

He was kneeing in anticipation, waiting for you to fuck him with your fingers. You saw that and decided to play with him a little. Show him who’s the superior. You took your slicked up index finger, placing it hear his jawline and proceeding to drag the cold lube down his nipples.

Circling the bud with the lube covered finger as you watched with satisfaction at the way it hardened, and the tiny wimper that fell from his lips. Other hand pinching and pulling the other bud as you looked down at him. He was squirming again, panting and desperately trying not to reach your finger and shove it up his ass where he wanted it.

You decided you’ve teased him enough, your own arousal threatening to overcome you. You slicked up your fingers once more, moving yourself down to where he wanted you to be.

You lifted one of his legs and put it on your shoulder, admiring the view of Harry’s pink pucker. You kissed his inner thigh, gently sucking on the soft skin as you rubbed against his hole. He tensed up immediately, but soon relaxed at your gentle motions, and your mouth sucking a hickey on him.

You pushed merely a fingertip into his tight heat, hand on his hips rubbing soothing circles. You pushed more of the finger, stopping at the first joint. He moved sightly edging more of the finger inside. He let out a sharp inhale as you pushed the remainder of the finger. Remembering to be gentle as you pumped your finger in him slowly, in and out, in and out. Over and over till he was begging for another.

You complied, sticking another long digit in him slowly. Thrusting them into his hole. You added another as he begged for more. Thrusting three digits in his slick pucker. Over and over, your fingertips occasionally grazing his prostate driving him mad.

“Oh please, oh please. PLEASE,“ he begged as your fingers never stopping plunged into him. His hips bucking forward for more friction.

“What do you want mhm?,“ you questioned as you watched with heated eyes at how his hole sucked you fingers in greedily.

“Need you please, please mommy need you, nee-AHH,“ he nearly screamed as your fingers slammed straight into his prostate, and once you found the right angle, you found yourself fucking him with your fingers, constantly abusing his prostate. And by now he was writhing and begging for you.

Your own wetness was running down your thighs, mind fogged in lust for the man below you. You couldn’t keep dragging this on forever. You knew that it would only be matter of minutes before Harry would cum. But you would have none of that.

You suddenly pulled your fingers from his hole. He whined as he felt the cold air, the emptiness in his ass making him squirm, trying to get the fingers back inside him.

“Hush now. You’ll get what you get,“ you said quite sternly. He stopped almost instantly, not wanting to get on your bad side tonight.

You smirked before reaching over to were you put the strap and fastened it around you. It was a good 7 and a half inches. You would have done a 5 or a 6 but today you weren’t having it and decided instead to start off my big, even though this was his first time. You lubed it up with the reminder of the container and tossed it aside.

You watched as Harry’s eyes widened slightly, taking in the sight of you wearing something like this. He unconsciously licked his lips at the thought of the monster fake cock going into him, stretching him wide, filling him to the brim.

You noticed of course, smirking at him as you positioned the tip near his entrance. You rubbed it teasingly around his hole and watched in delight as it twitched in excited.

You sneaked a look at him; he was biting his bottom lips, eyes shut tightly and hands clutching onto the bed sheets like a life-line.

You grinned at the scene before you placed your hands on his hip, one leg still on top of your shoulder the other pushed up to his chest. You pushed in the head of the cock, pleased in the gasp that escaped his red lips.

You pushed a bit more, staying still for a few minutes for him to adjust. You pushed in more when you realized he was warming up and could take it.

About an inch into him and he's already moaning out like a bitch in heat. Merlin you couldn't wait to fully be submerged in him and to see how good he'd look stretched around your cock.

You pushed another quarter of the cock into him before you heard him let out a strangled cry.

You pushed on the spot again, electing another loud moan from his spit-licked lips. Oh, there it was. You purposely pushed on the spot again, another centimeter of the cock entering his body. The pressure on his sweet spot making his eyes roll back into his skull.

You let a smirk form on your face. Getting impatient to be gentle and slow. And so you pushed the rest of the cock into him without a warning.

He let out a high pitched scream as the rest of the cock pushed into his tight heat, the fullness of it all, and the tip brushing on his prostate so lightly, so teasingly, almost making him cry. Almost.

Your impatience was getting low, really low. You'd taken far too long to get into him, and now that you have, the feeling was overwhelming. And all you wanted to do was pound into him mercilessly and just take what you want from him.

And as much as you needed wanted that, you had to go slow in the beginning as to not overwhelm him too much.

"Good baby? Feel nice?," you asked. Rubbing soft circles on his hips once more.

"Mhmm, feels so nice mommy," his eyes were still closed, but a small smile appeared on his face at the feeling of it all and how you were making him feel even though you had just started.

"Yeah? My good boy feels so nice? How does he feel?," you questioned, beginning to gently rock your hips back and forth.

"Feel so full, so big, so nice," he murmured as he too began pushing against the rocking.

"Yeah? My baby feels so full of 'm cock? Mhm?," your pace seemed to increase of its own, the sense of going slow for his needs seeming to disappear into the back of your mind.

"Yes mommy, yes," he cried out as your rockings' turned into full-blown thrusts within seconds.

You lost all self-control the minute his hands came up to claw on your back, his nails leaving angry red crescent moons visible for days to come.

You started fucking him with long short thrust for him to get used to the pace and now that he had, you lost all sense and started pounding into him mercilessly. Hand tightly gripped on his hip, sure to leave bruises, the other free hand coming up to hold onto Harry's leg on your shoulder tighter.

He was crying out for every thrust, mouth open in a perfect 'O', eyes screwed shut, and hands clutching onto the crinkled sheets for dear life.

You found that spot again. Pleased in his cried-out sob as you aimed your strap on the bundle of nerves over and over again. Cock abusing his prostate.

You were so gone, mind only fogged in lust, and greed that you hadn't noticed that Harry had started outright crying. Not of pain, but pure pleasure. Well you noticed as soon as you heard him sniff.

Your eyes immediately darting to his face and oh merlin was it a sight for sore eyes.

You could have swore you would have been able to come from that image alone; glazed emerald green eyes are wet with unhushed tears, the thick black lashes clumped and glossy, his nose adorably red and leaking, knuckles turned white at the tight grip of them on his blankets, glasses askew, panting and moaning with each thrust and his face scrunched-up as you continued to molest his hole.

Fuck. He looks stunning. You wished you brought a camera to capture this moment forever.

His nails tug harder into your back as he sobbed from the pleasure. He makes these little irresistible little hurt sounds that you're pretty sure are the soundtrack to heaven. His hands coming up to your gorgeous y/h/c and tugging on them as he nearly breaks.

“Look at you,” you whisper, “So pretty for me when you cry.”

Oh but he was, face wet with tears and puffy from crying, so red and open, and still he wants more. You can't resist him like this and keep your steady thrusting. Faster and Faster as your climax started enveloping you.

Harry's own cock, red and leaking pre-come was ready to spill his seeds.

"Go on baby, touch yourself," you panted, as you watched him let out a cry as he began pumping his cock back and forth.

Your own climax fast approaching, thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier till you let out a loud moan as you came.

Hips stuttering and head thrown back as your cum spilled down your thighs. Body trembling and out of breath as you came to your senses.

Harry rapidly wanked himself, the image of you being undone on top you bringing him to his own orgasm.

He all but let out a whine as hot white cum spurted in between your chests. Breath stolen and body numb.

He let out a wince as you pulled out of his abused and over sensitive hole. Throwing the strap aside to clean tomorrow and flopping onto the bed next to him.

You both stayed there, catching your breaths and raveling in the mind-blowing experience in a comfortable silence.

Harry was the first to move, pushing himself closer to your sides. He was always cuddly and soft in the aftermaths of sex so you gently turned on your side. Hands enveloping him in your arms, his head resting in the junction where your shoulder and neck meet. His soft breath tickling you.

"You okay baby?," you murmured breaking the silence. He simply hummed, voice soft from all the screaming and moaning.

You felt the soft-sated smile on his lips beginning to form, and felt a one of your beginning to grow.

You let out a chuckle, "Someone enjoyed that huh?", he simply hummed again but asked "Can we do it again?".

It was your turn to hum as you snuggled your head in his soft black hair. His legs tossed on top of you as you wandlessly pulled the blanket over you two and tucked the both of you in.

You decided you both could take a shower tomorrow, and let yourself completely relax in his arms.

And that's how the night ended. Limbs tangled, the smell of sweat, tears and sex in the air, and pure bliss

tags: @hey-there-angels @dracomalfoys-wh0re

#lyn's 300 followers celebration!#nswf blurb #harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry james potter x y/n #harry potter blurb #harry potter imagine #harry james potter imagine #harry james potter blurb #supernatural #sub!harry #dom!reader #harry james potter fic #harry potter fic #harry potter smut #harry james potter smut

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kiribaku-queen · 3 years

Note

Heyyyy. So i was thinking a out mafia au fic like where kuroo is a mafia leader and youre his gf. Somehow, while his group were in a war, u got kidnapped which made him furious ofc and whiel saving u and trying to escape, u saw someone trying to shoot hima nd u go ahead and sheild him which made u got shoot. Its a angst but a hppy ending. Ill let u do what kind of ending u want 😁 anyway congrats and hv a great day!

Beginnings of a War

Angst

Kuroo x reader

Word Count: 3.5K

TRIGGER WARNING: violence, gun mentioned, blood

A/N: I had so much fun writing this piece and I literally couldn't wait to start this one! I thought of this Bokuto when writing this piece because I can't get enough of him

Happy reading and I'd love to know your thoughts!

The tension in the room was uneasy as the two leaders from opposite gangs stared each other down, neither saying a word. There was no easy conclusion to their mess but the longer they sat there, the more impatient both parties got. Yet, Kuroo was never one to give up easily. He was persistent and determined. Meanwhile, the two-toned haired man who goes by Bokuto was notorious for always getting his way. Right now, they were both stuck in the middle. Kuroo leans back on the black, leather couch, resting both arms behind the back.

“That’s my final bet. Take it or leave it. You either release him and take the money, or we’re gonna have some trouble,” Kuroo finally spoke up. Bokuto slants his eyes at him, clearly not persuaded by his offer.

“You’re a good comedian if you think I’m going to release one of your men for that small amount. After what he did to ten of my men?” Bokuto was trying to place the blame on the other leader but that only made Kuroo’s eyebrow twitch in annoyance.

“Your men attacked his family and his girl, leaving her in a hospital. If anything, your men deserved everything coming to them,” Kuroo set him straight. Even though Bokuto knew that, he knew that his men were in the wrong, he still had to protect them. So his comment visibly upset him as he slammed his fists down on the glass table in front of him, almost causing it to break if he hit any harder.

“I don’t give a shit what my boys did. All I care about is what your men did to mine,” he stated clearly. By now, Kuroo was getting a headache.

“Then what do you want? You don’t want the money, you don’t want anything else I offered. Stop beating around the bush and tell me what you want!” he grew impatient and raised his voice. Before Bokuto had a chance to open his mouth, the double doors behind him flew wide open and in you came, eyes only on your boyfriend as you walk towards him. Sexy and sultry-like, you come to greet your boyfriend after a long day of shopping, not paying attention to his special guest. But he was paying close attention to you.

The click of your heels meeting the floor caught the attention of all the men in the room. You loved it when all the attention was on you because you knew. You knew you were attractive. You had the confidence, the walk, the clothes, the attitude. Everything a girl boss should have. Even though eyes were on you at all times of the day, only one man caught your attention and you would do anything for him.

Striding towards the mafia boss who was clearly in the middle of an important meeting, you made your way into his lap. You made yourself comfortable, touching the back of his hair before pulling him in for a steamy kiss. The kiss was slow and deliberate. You made sure to taste every part of him, your tongue gliding against his, purposely biting his lips ever so slightly. You kissed him like there was no one else in the room. But little did you know, Bokuto was looking you up and down, clear interest written all over his face.

You pulled away with a soft hum, satisfied to be with your boyfriend again. Kuroo, who was annoyed, is now smitten with you. He has, and always will have, a soft spot for you and isn’t afraid to show it.

“I’m a little busy, sweetheart,” Kuroo mumbled against your lips, lost in your eyes, your taste, your smell, your everything.

“I just missed you, daddy,” you cooed with a pout.

“Alright, I’m almost done,” he promises. He puts a protective hand over your waist and you wait in his lap like the good girl you were until he was done with his meeting. Kuroo focuses his attention back to his guest, acting like that whole interaction didn’t happen.

“What do you want?” Kuroo asks again. This time, Bokuto locks eyes with you and you just give him an innocent look that makes Bokuto obsessed.

“Her.” He points to you. That shocks both you and your boyfriend. You didn’t know what was going on, maybe because you just forced your way into their conversation, but you could tell that Kuroo wasn’t very fond of his answer. His hand tightens on your waist.

“She’s off limits,” he almost growls. Now that’s a voice you haven’t heard in a hot minute.

“Then the deals off,” Bokuto says simply, leaning back while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. Kuroo slants his eyes and gives you a few soft taps to your butt.

“Go upstairs,” he demands. You know by the tone of his voice that he was upset and you knew not to talk back. Last time you did that, you couldn’t walk for two weeks. And that was… so long ago that you can’t even remember. So you immediately got up and walked out of there, but Bokuto still had his eyes on you.

When you left the room and completely out of sight, Kuroo sits back and crosses his legs. He lets out a deep sigh and glides his tongue across the inside of his cheek in annoyance. He didn’t understand why Bokuto wanted you all of a sudden, out of all people, but there was no way in hell he was giving you away.

“I’ll give you anything you want. Tell me and I’ll give it to you. You want the money? Fine. Take it. You want a woman? I’ll find you one who can’t resist you. Name your price, but she’s my woman,” Kuroo made things clear with the man across from him.

“I’m not leaving until I get her,” Bokuto was set on having you, taking you and making you his. Kuroo uncrosses his legs and leans forward on his knees.

“Oi. Can you fucking hear? I said she was off limits.” Bokuto copies his movements.

“Does it look like I give two fucks? If you want one of your men back, give me the girl,” he compromises. Kuroo clenches his jaw and leans back.

“Then there’s nothing to discuss. Leave.” Kuroo glares at him. And that was asking him nicely. But Bokuto lets out a loud chuckle.

“You’re gonna let a bitch get in the way of your men?” the mafia boss taunted. And boy, did it work.

“Do you want to die?” Kuroo asked through gritted teeth, a vein clearly visible on his forehead from how much anger he was trying to hold in.

“Is that a threat?” Bokuto turned serious, all jokes out the window.

“No. but this is,” he says, standing up and pulling a gun out of the inside of his jacket pocket and points in straight in his opponent’s face. With his fast reflexes, Bokuto saw it coming and also took his gun out. So now both men had guns pointed in their faces, neither of them moving. Just glares being exchanged.

“Tsk, tsk. Now is that how you persuade an old friend?” Bokuto shook his head in disappointment.

“Friend? More like business partner,” Kuroo corrected him. They had a silent face off. Pointing dangerous weapons at each other but neither wanting to pull the trigger first. Bokuto thought this was exciting. He laughs, spins his gun with his finger and places it back in his pocket. He turns around, looking unfazed by the whole situation and simply leaves. Somewhat relieved, Kuroo also puts away his gun and cautiously watches the other boss leave. Bokuto stops right as he’s about to step through the door to give Kuroo a wary warning.

“You better be careful. I always get what I want,” he said before making his disappearance.

You were waiting patiently in your shared bedroom, swinging your feet around with a pout on your face. You didn’t know what you walked in to, but it didn’t seem good from the looks of it. Kuroo looked so serious down there, you thought to yourself. But your mind wandered to naughty thoughts because you loved seeing him like that, even though the situation doesn’t call for it. He just looks so sexy what he’s serious.

Kuroo opens the door to the bedroom and before you could say anything to him or greet him, he smashes your lips together without any explanation. You were surprised by his actions but you kiss him back nonetheless. From the way his lips move against yours, you could tell that he was in a bad mood. Your lips were too smushed and teeth were rubbing against each other, so much that he was starting to hurt you. Kuroo moves on to attack your neck and then you were finally able to breath.

“Kuroo,” you whined, still short of breath. He ignores you and instead starts to suck on your supple skin, creating bruises of all kinds of sizes on your neck. He grabs your face again, smashing your lips together and he pushes you back so that the back of your knees hit the bed, causing you to fall backwards, Kuroo falling on top of you. His legs were on either side of you as he dominated the kiss.

“You’re mine. All mine,” he growls, hands wandering to grope your body harshly. He licks from the top of your breasts all the way up your neck and captures your lips again. Your hands go to tangle his raven locks and wrap your legs around him.

“I’m all yours,” you whisper against his lips. Kuroo smirks, quickly removing his jacket then undoing his tie before he goes to unbuckle his belt. Excitement started to rise in you. Angry sex? Fuck yes. You were in for a hell of a night and let’s be honest, one hell of a week.

You were kept inside for a time being because Kuroo was wary of what Bokuto said to him at that meeting. He wasn’t going to take any chances, but you understood where he was coming from. It was boring not being able to leave the fancy mansion you lived in, but you made your boyfriend make it up by letting him by you all sorts of gifts to apologize.

But after a while of nothing happening, your boyfriend lets you go on a shopping spree to make up for your boredom and loss of time. But you couldn’t leave until you brought extra bodyguards to look out for you. Annoying as it was, you obliged. There was no use in arguing because if you did, he probably wouldn’t have let you out. The whole threatening fiasco didn’t bother you one bit. You couldn’t count how many times people have said that to him and nothing has ever happened to you. You believed that nothing was going to happen this time around.

You were walking down the empty street after a successful day of shopping, having every single one of your bodyguards hold bags of clothes, accessories, shoes, food, things that you couldn’t resist buying. You skipped along the sidewalk, feeling happy and free, the warmth of the setting sun and the blow of the oncoming evening wind was making you feel content with life. You wonder if your bodyguards were feeling the same. Speaking of bodyguards, they were being awfully quiet. Spinning around, you realized that you were alone.

You paused, stunned frozen.

Where were your bodyguards? All of a sudden, several men appeared out of the shadows of the alleys. You sighed in relief, realizing that it was just your bodyguards pulling a prank on you.

“You scared me! How could you leave me alone like that!” you jokingly scolded them. But they were indeed not your bodyguards. The smile that was on your face was quick to drop upon realization. You took a few steps back, trying to get away from these men who were getting closer and closer to you. But you were stopped, running into someone’s chest. You looked up to see who it was and all of a sudden, everything turned black.

When you woke up, you found yourself sitting on a chair, arms wrapped together and duct tape covered your mouth. It didn’t take long to realize that you’ve been kidnapped. The classic empty warehouse and burning fire in a can was proof of that. You checked your surroundings and was surprised to see that your legs weren’t tied together. You weren’t blindfolded either, but you were tied down to the chair. It wasn’t long after you woke up that Bokuto makes his appearance, sitting backwards in a chair right in front of you. He looked happy to see you but you couldn’t say the same. You slanted your eyes at him, disinterested in whatever he wants to say or do. You tried to keep your composure by being still and keeping a poker face, because if you didn’t, you don’t know what he’ll do to you.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Bokuto greeted you. “You’re probably wondering why you’re not tied up.” He starts, then rips the duct tape off your mouth and cuts the ropes around your arms. Then he leans down to your level and smirks.

“Because I know you’re not going to run away. Look at you shaking,” he says and looks you up and down then going back to his chair. It was true. You were shaking. You’ve never been in this situation before. You’ve always imagined it: being nonchalant and bored of all the empty threats and your savior of a boyfriend would come save you from all the madness. But now you were second guessing yourself, now being caught in this situation. You were shaking, but you were still going to stand up for yourself. That’s what Kuroo taught you to do.

“You’re not going to get away with this. Kuroo is going to save me and you’ll regret ever doing this to me,” you ran your mouth. But Bokuto doesn’t respond. So you go on. “Kuroo is the strongest fighter I know. He could kick your ass in his sleep. You don’t even look like a fighter. I bet you’d do down so easy!” You said that anything that came to mind. Yet, Bokuto continued to stare at you with a bored expression. And that made you nervous.

“I would never date you. You’re ugly, mean, and-and… you suck!” you couldn’t come up with any good comebacks. But for some reason, that set him off. He stands up so fast that it knocks the chair over and that shuts you up real quick. He walks over to you, duct taping your mouth again.

“Noisy bitch. Maybe this’ll shut you up,” he says and tightly seals your lips shut with the silver tape. He then grabs your chin to look up at him. You glare up at him, already tired of how rough he was handling you. He tilts your face from side to side, getting a good look at you.

“See, you’re prettier when your silent,” he comments. He looks down at the tape and frowns. He tapped the tape that was over your mouth over and over again, like there was something missing. Bokuto opens the palm of his hand and one of his guys puts a bright red lipstick in his hand. With a swift action, he pulls the cap off with his teeth and applies the lipstick on the duct tape that outlines your lips. He spits the lid on the floor and smirks.

“There, that’s better,” he says. He grabs your chin again and pulls you in for a kiss. You struggle to get out of his grip but he was stronger than he looked. When Bokuto pulled away, the lipstick was smeared across his lips, but didn’t seem to care. He was about to say something until he heard screaming and grunts of pain. He turns around just in time to see your boyfriend getting thrown on the floor, all bloodied and beaten up. You gasp, tears beginning to form at the sight.

This was wrong. That couldn’t be your boyfriend. There was no way. Your boyfriend was strong. He beat up and sometimes even killed when anybody got in his way. How could this have happened?

Kuroo was thrown on the floor and a handful of men continued to beat him up, kicking him in all places. You shook your head in denial, not even wanting to watch but couldn’t look away. Bokuto was loving everything. Your expression. Kuroo’s sounds of pain. He was getting a kick that things were turning out how he had planned.

“Look who decided to show up,” Bokuto kneels down to his level, grabbing a handful of hair and picking him up to show his face. Blood was dripped down the sides of his face, from his nose and mouth, his cheeks were bruised and he looked like he was about to pass out.

“Let her go,” Kuroo barely manages to let out. Bokuto clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“I told you, didn’t I? I want her. Anything you want to say to your little girlfriend for the last time?” Bokuto allows him to say some final words. But Kuroo was too out of it to comprehend what he was saying.

“What about girlfriend over here!” he exclaims, presenting you perfectly fine and free from any scratches. Bokuto rips the duct tape off and cries ripped from your throat.

“Kuroo Tetsurou! You better get up! Stand up please! Fight back!” you cry but that just causes Kuroo to get more kick and punches to his body. Large tears escaped your eyes and you couldn’t stop the sounds of agony coming from your mouth.

“You’re the best fighter around, right? Fight back please!” you begged him. Getting beat up, okay. But not even trying to fight back? That’s not the Kuroo you know. What was wrong with him? Why was he allowing them to do this to him? Kuroo looks up and faces you with a smile.

“I can’t let you get hurt, baby girl,” he professes. And that just breaks your heart. More sobs escaped your mouth but the sounds of skin hitting skin was louder. Kuroo was being tossed around, kicked, punched, spit at. Blood was stained everywhere, and you didn’t know what to do. Even though he was getting beat up so badly, he was still standing. And that seemed to annoy Bokuto. Time was ticking and he was getting impatient. If he was doing to die like that, then he was going to have to do it himself. Bokuto pulls the gun out of his pocket, aiming for Kuroo. You see it just in time and as if your feet were moving on it’s own, you run to shield him before he gets shot. The moment you touched him, you heard the gun shot and everything went black

The feeling of soft sheets under your fingers woke you up. You jolted awake, sitting up in the bed that was all too familiar to you. You were at home, but how did you get here? You checked your body all over but there were no signs of pain or even wound marks. There was no bullet, no bruises, no scarring. So, what the hell happened? Then your mind went to your boyfriend. Getting right out of bed, you ran to his room and he was resting in bed, bandages covering his shoulder.

“Kuroo,” you called out to him, running to his side and grabbing his hand. He shifts in his position, sighing deeply. Then he brings your hand to his lips, placing a small but meaningful kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re up, my dear,” he says as a fact, eyes barely open. Concern washed over you and so many questions came to mind. You didn’t know what to ask first.

“How-what-but I… I took the gun shot for you,” you tried to recall what happened. Kuroo knocks your forehead and you pout.

“You think you’re so slick. I saw what you were trying to do. I flipped you over just in time. Now I have this to remember,” and then points to his shoulder with the bandage. He took the bullet for you. You pout again, feeling bad. Not only did he get beaten up pretty badly, but he also got shot that night? That was supposed to be your job.

“If I didn’t get shot, then why did I pass out?” you questioned, more to yourself.

“I think you passed out from the shock, baby,” he comforted you. It made sense… but when you looked at your boyfriend in this condition, it made you upset. You started to burst into tears and hit him in the chest.

“You idiot!” you yell, accidentally hitting the place he got shot and he jumps up in pain. But you cuddle right up to him to make up for it. But you thought he deserved it.

“What about Bokuto?” you shot up and looked at Kuroo was worry written all over your face. He softly smiles at you and pets your hair.

“We all retreated. For now. But it’s not over,” he tells you. Oh, it is far from over. This is actually just the beginning.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro angst #kuroo oneshot #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo imagine #haikyuu imagine #mafia au #bokuto kotartou

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corpsehusband-simp · 3 years

Text

Private Messages

Request: I noticed that requests are open, so may you write a fic where Toast kills (y/n) and she and Corpse are secretly talking through the other line and she tells him and he wins the game for her, like, "thats just for you bby."

A/N: Im sorry its taking so long for me to get these stories out guys. Im trying but life has kind of been kicking my ass.

Masterlist

JackAboy: Want to play some among us, we have an open spot.

Y/N: Sure give me like 2 minutes to get it all set up.

JackAboy: POGS

You laugh shaking you head. You change into a hoody and some shorts before filling up up your water bottle, grabbing your favorite snack and heading to your streaming room. You quickly turn on your stream and enter the discord chat.

“Sup gamers!” You say excitedly as you enter the discord server.

“Ayyy welcome! Y/N have you met Corpse yet?” You fur your brows as you type in the code not realizing Corpse was in call already.

“Uh no I havent officially, I'm a fan of his music tho and I’ve watched his streams so im prepared for his big brain moves.”

“Youve watched my stream?” You choke on your spit.

“Corpse you made her choke!” Poki laughs.

“Choke me like you hate me” Jack does his Corpse impression which makes everyone laugh. You took a deep breath and got loaded into the Among Us server.

“To answer your question, yes Corpse Ive watched your streams, how else am I supposed to know what I’m up against.” Corpse chuckles.

“Touche” The game finally starts and you are an imposter with Charlie. You avoid killing Corpse instead, using him as an alibi until Charlie cuts the lights. You go in for a stack kill and you accidently kill Corpse.

“NOOO son of a bitch!” You laugh before unmuting yourself. “Okay who the hell did it huh?! Who killed Corpse!?” Everyone goes into a debate and you guys end up voting off Poki and that was the end of that round.

“I cant believe you killed me Y/N! I thought we were bonding!” Corpse pouts.

“Im sorry I was trying to get Toast!”

“Me?! Why me?!”

“Why not you, you’re a threat!” Toast gasps.

“Im gonna remember this Y/N!” he teases but you also knew toast would be out for revenge.

“Okay okay enough threats, can we take a gamer bladder break?” Jack cuts in.

“Yes please!” Poki mutes her mic and leaves along with a few other people. You stayed behind talking to your chat and eating some fruit when you get a discord private message.

Corpse: Hey traitor ;)

Y/N: Im sorry it was an accident :(

Corpse: Im just teasing you

Y/N: Hey how come were messaging and not just talking?

You look up from your messages to your chat.

“Uh not Max is sleeping in her bed right now if she wakes up I will definitely show her on stream to you guys,

Corpse: Because the others are hard to talk over and I just want to talk to you without having thousands of fans up our asses about what it all means.

You laugh before clearing your throat.

“Sorry sorry my mom sent me something funny”

Corpse: Youre mom?! XD

Y/N: Are you watching my stream?!

“Okay are you guys ready?” Sykkuno asks. Theres a chorus of yeses. A few rounds go by and corpse and you message back and forth throughout the matches secretly teaming ups against the others in your own little games. That was until Toast finally gets his revenge and kills you.

“I had that coming” You laugh poping a piece of fruit in your mouth.

Corpse: Where did you go I cant find you.

Y/N: Dead Toast got his revenge.

Corpse: I knew it, I’ve been sus of him from the first round.

Jack finds your body.

“Y/N body was in electrical, it’s a pretty fresh kill.” Poki gasps.

“Corpse what did you do!? She’s been with you the entire game!”

“I left her in electrical with Toast so I could do the gas can thing!”

“Toast finally got his revenge.” Sykkuno says. Corpse quickly votes Toast before he could argue and everyone follows suit laughing at Toast’s excuses. The game ends and everyone cheers.

Corpse: That one was for you Baby ;)

You blush like crazy and bite your lip, ignoring your chat blowing up.

Y/N: My knight in shining armor. Thanks handsome

Corpse: You live in LA right?

Y/N: yes…

Corpse: Let me take you out to dinner

Y/N: Its a date :)

Taglist

@fuji175 @corbins-kinda-smart @locallolli @namjoons-crabssss @sadness-babee @reddeserths @eccedxntesi @mayempress @shinyyoonie @amirahhiddleston @gamerjisoo @trying-to-be-nice-here @jinexedanxrchist @rensaor @yoongis-cumsock @devilishducky97 @mintchip17 @redperson58 @kutiesammyboo @caswinchester2000 @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @thoughtfullydopedragon @neville-longbottomsimp @danny-devitowo @chocolatecloudwinnerhoagie @notmewrongb1tch @moneybagmara @alxcru158 @whatinthyworld @ihavecommitmentissues @mayempress @tanya-sonigra @themeaningofstupid @heavenly3308 @nicetomeetyouamamber @chileansoul-englishheart

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #youtube #youtubers fanfic #youtubers x reader #x reader

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 3 years

Text

VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recomendations 2021: Week 3 | January 10-16

Welcome to week 3 of my recommendation, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #ktkvcbreadinglist, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.

Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.

«Last Week

Week 4»

My Masterlist

Andy Barber

One-Shot’s

Imagine by @worksby-d • Andy Barber x Reader – Reader takes their chances teasing and tempting Andy, but he can only take so much. | Really good smut.

Good little girl by @donutloverxo • Mob!Andy Barber x Reader — Married life isn’t always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems? (Part 1) | Let me just say the first part sort of darkish but not really? Also I can’t help but read Mob!Andy anything.

Ransom Drysdale

One-Shots

Introducing Chaos by @the-iceni-bitch • Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader — Ransom brings you to your first Thrombey family dinner, and you make a splash | I laughed so much while reading this and the smut was so good. It’s a really good read.

Drabbles

Playing Games by @just-one-ordinary-fangirl • Ransom Drysdale x Reader — Ransom, the man you loved, did the unforgivable. You confront him about it. | This left me wanting more so badly.

Chris Evans

One-Shot’s

Tonight’s Show by @theblvckvenus • Chris Evans x Fem!Reader — You come home to surprise Chris and his interviewer. But the excitement gets him the better of him and as soon as its over you’re in big trouble. | Came for the show definitely stayed for the smut ;)

Drabbles

Stranger on the Train by @carpediemm-18 • Chris Evans x Female!Reader — Chris comes to the aide of the reader on a late night subway ride. | Sweet and Short

Steve Rogers

Amorosa by @honeysucklesteve • Sugar Daddy!Steve x SugarBaby!Reader — you were drowning, barely surviving in new york city working at an upscale restaurant; the only thing keeping you barely afloat. when steve rogers, vp of stark industries, overhears your troubles, he proposes an agreement that’ll benefit the both of you. should you take it and suffer the consequences is up to you. | I have a huge weakness for Sugar Daddy fics, don’t ask me why but I do. This does not disappoint and it’s got some really good smut in it. Thank you Eleanor!

Bucky Barnes

The Winter Ghost by @msmarvelwrites • Bucky Barnes x Reader — A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn’t and because of that, everything you knew was about to change. | Get yourself some tissues because you will cry. Brontë wrote the smut moments perfectly that it flowed with the the rest of the chapters so perfectly. Nothing felt rushed, the story was just so perfect.

Picking Up the Pieces [1/3] by @gogolucky13 • Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky chooses to stay in his tumultuous relationship knowing you’ll be there to pick up the pieces, until finally you’re not. [Modern AU] | For anyone who has ever felt like they were the second best, this is for you. I teared up while reading. Looking forward to see where this goes.

A Favor [1/?] by @buckysbabygorl • Bucky Barnes x Reader — After breaking up with her boyfriend; Y/N drunkenly admits to the team that she’s never had sex. Not only is she single, but she’s looking. | If you are looking for a laugh, this is the place to go, I’m excited to see where this goes.

One-Shot’s

Teacher’s Pet by @nastybuckybarnes [Dark Fic] • AlphaProfessor!Bucky x Omega!Reader x AlphaProfessor!Steve — The perfect omega doesn’t exist, right? Well, Steve and Bucky think they might’ve just found her in the form of one of their students. And they’re not gonna stop until they have her begging beneath them. | Okay this is such a good A/B/O one-shot. Like it’s got the little bit stuff you need instead of just jumping straight into the good stuff. Which isn’t bad, but sometimes a little bit of a burn, is so good. I highly recommend.

The Thought That Counts by @imerdwarf • Bucky Barnes x Reader — Reader offers to brush Bucky’s hair | All the fluffy fluffy-ness you could want or need.

On His Shoulder by @whateveriwant • Bucky Barnes x Reader — Five separate occasions in which Bucky tells you to put something on his shoulder. | A one-shot that made me wish I was somebodies Jack to somebodies ass. In all honesty Sam does a magnificent job giving reader a nickname and making this one-shot so unbelievably good. You got some laughs, some fluffs, and some smut.

Till The End Of The Line by @chanelsebbie • Bucky Barnes x Reader — You and Bucky go on a mission together to hopefully put a dent in H.Y.D.R.A., but things don’t go as planned. | Shaye how dare you, I cried, this is just so beautifully written and I just want more. Like I was waiting to see more and have him come back. I couldn’t make a link for this one-shot don’t know why, so here you all go.

Drabbles

Boob Move by @nano--raptor • Bucky Barnes x Reader — Y/N falls asleep with her boob hanging out on Bucky’s couch | I’ve never read something so funny yet hot all at once.

Drops of Jupiter by @imerdwarf • Bucky Barnes x Reader – Bucky has a nightmare and you find him on the rooftop looking up at the stars. | All The Fluff!

Lee Bodecker

One Shots

505 by @captain-barnes-writes • Dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader — On her summer break from college, Y/N embarks on an affair with Lee Bodecker. But she realizes that not all that drips from his lips is honey. | If you are looking for some dark Lee Bodecker, but I mean it’s Lee.. with some of angst thrown in and some smut, this one-shot is for you!

Misc.

Drabbles

I See You by @sevans-is-my-weakness • Colin Shea x TJ Hammond x F!Reader — TJ Hammond is your roommate and Colin Shea is your guys neighbor. | Short read that I enjoyed but I suggest also reading through this masterlist, there’s so much I want to share!

Writers

@bbonkyy - is one of my all time favorite writers but I could be bias as we are friends. I know they haven’t published in a really long time but they still deserve some recognition. They do take request, trust me they write some amazing smut! *chefs kiss*

@nsfwsebbie - Please please please do yourself a favor and check out Sabrina’s concepts masterlist, dark fics, and masterlist, I’m slowly making my way through them. Sabrina has got some writing talent in them and I love reading what they put out!

@mypoisonedvine - Looking for an eclectic collection of characters and different choices to choose from? j.d. has you covered with their stories. I love their writing, the dark, the fluffy and smut.

Writing Challenges:

Mostly a Milestone Writing Challenge hosted by @mostly-marvel-musings | What you need to know: You can write for celebrities but they have to be from the MCU or you can write for MCU characters. You do not have to reserve a spot in this challenge. OFC’s, any pairing, AU is welcome. The due date as of right now is the end of 2021 and the theme is... Romance Movies

Shout Out To My...

@redhead-wine-and-literature-club — Mods Scarlett and Ruby say they read and write fanfiction usually with a glass a wine to go with it. They are pairing characters (Steve and Bucky) Sebastian and Chris have played with wines. In February they’ll have daily prompt challenges. You can check out the club's welcome post here!

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

Let's Play A Love Game

Author's note: this one is rated 😈 so yeah. There was originally more angst in my mind but once I got to that part I was over it lol I'm the worst at angst I much rather make it naughty. It's more rushed than I wanted but I don't really have time to write 10k fics right now. But hopefully soon.

Summary: it's just pretend, right?

She hadn't meant to push the event in the corner of her mind until she forgot about it completely, so much so that when the e-vite showed up in her inbox she stared at it in wide eyed shock not even noticing Mi-Seon creeping up behind her.

"It's already time for that? I usually know it's coming because you start buying expensive dresses you can't afford and crying at your credit card bill. Maybe country life has really changed you hm?"

False. Inaccurate. Utterly wrong to the every core.

She lets out a shrill scream letting her head fall painfully on her desktop.

"I'm an idiot! Just kill me now, I deserve it." She has nothing to wear, okay the mountain of boxes in her living room, bedroom and some hidden in the linen closet beg to defer but none of that is worthy of this event. The annual dentist convention in Seoul, it's a week long getaway. It's meant to be an opportunity to build connections and attend professional learning classes, but that has long been abandoned. Now it is a fashion show and chance to show off your success and this year more than ever she has to impress everyone. They all look down on her and her cute little practice. Those judgemental snarky bitches.

"Do we have anymore patients?" She absently asks her best friend, only friend already getting up and walking away.

"No that was the last one. Do you want to call it a day?" She doesn't give a verbal reply lost in her phone and the disease that is online shopping, in the span of three minutes she has already added seven dresses to her cart.

"Chief Hong is going to have a long day."

It's just as Mi-seon says the next day the nosy know it all shows up glaring at her over the handful of packages in his arms.

"Don't tell me you're doing this again. What more could you possibly have to order? How much things does one woman need?" His voice is an air warmer than the last time they were in this very same position, but she tries not to think too hard about it. Their relationship is too confusing these days, as temperamental as the sea.

"Are delivery men allowed to complain this much when they're doing a job they are getting paid for?" She snarks back, snatching her packages from his arms with a huff. Ignoring the grin on his face as she disappears into her house.

"That better be all you order. I'm not coming back."

He comes back. At least six more trips, more boxes each time on the last day he doesn't simply leave after making his delivery.

"I'm coming in for tea because of you I've been working too hard." She squeaks indignantly as he pushes past her, their shoulders brushing in the tight space of the doorway.

She should wait until she doesn't have an audience but she's too impatient so while he's making the tea in her kitchen (so rude and intrusive), she starts to open a few boxes pulling out the contents. Dresses, blouses, shirts, hair accessories, lipsticks in all shades and hues, and of course shoes; heels, flats and everything in between.

"Your house looks like a department store." She jumps at his voice glancing up at him, almost laughing at the hedgehog mug that he's drinking out of that Mi-seon gave her as a joke. Leave it to him to pick the most ridiculous mug.

"Hurry up and go so I can try everything on." She starts to take the objects out and organize them, putting together possible outfits lazily.

"Why not have a fashion show?" He slurps loudly at the tea, sighing and smiling down at the warm beverage. Acting like he's never had tea before, such a plebian.

"A fashion show?"

"Yeah, model all that", he motions to the new boxes littering her bedroom floor, "and I'll let you know what looks good."

She scoffs, loudly looking at his lackluster outfit; a simple white tee tucked into dark cargo pants with suspenders.

"What do you know about fashion?" She replies meanly, despite the little voice in her mind that reminds her that while his outfits are more practical than fashionable there is something distracting about the way his shoulders fill out his shirts and the way his long legs sit in his pants.

He shrugs looking down at himself, "I'm the town handy man I have no need to look good. But I'm still a man I can tell you what I think looks good on a woman."

Oh. It's a nonchalant statement said with no real heat but the implications make her skin warm up, she's never once thought that he saw her as a woman; nor considered looking at him like a man. (Lies.)

"I--why woul--why?" She stutters through an answer, tongue heavy in her mouth. He looks back nonplussed, sitting down pointedly on her couch.

"Never took you for the shy kind. You growing bashful now Ms. Dentist?" His eyes twinkle with mischief and she knows that she's being played but she wants nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. Slamming her room door, she pulls off her casual house clothes and grabs the first thing that catches her attention- a buttery yellow dress that grazes her knee, pairing them with white heels and a high messy bun. A swipe of lip tint completes the look and she confidently opens her room door.

Du-sik is staring aimlessly at his phone and doesn't notice her reappearance at first, so she coughs loudly folding her arms and when his eyes land on her, a chill runs down her spine at the look that lands on her body. It's been a long time since a man looked at her in this way, his eyes are undressing her even though he was the one who implored her to dress up in the first place. She hates it. At least she should hate it. But she can't ignore the satisfaction that washes over her at his dumbfounded look, that smug look obliterated by her very first look.

"Well?" She pushes harder, twirling to give him the full look. His gasp is loud behind her, she knows exactly why. The deep revealing plunge that travels all the way to the small of her back. There's no way she would wear this to the convention much too suggestive but that's her business.

"Wher-" his voice cracks and this time she can't contain her smile, dimples flashing now at her clear affect on him, clearing his throat he tries again, "Where exactly are you going again?"

She hums turning back around, gleeful at the vibrant blush on his cheeks. So he is just a man after all.

"A dentist convention." She answers cheekily and he guffaws loudly, eyes narrowing at her like he knows exactly what she's trying to do. They stare at each other for a long moment and she ultimately breaks the stand still, realizing what's happening. It feels a lot like flirting.

Collecting herself, she barrels back into the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" She whispers to her reflection, face too flushed for her liking.

A hard knock at the door pulls her from her self chastisement, "You didn't even wait for my rating."

She sighs loudly covering her face in embarrassment at her own action. She doesn't even have alcohol to blame this time.

"I don't care. This was stupid, let's stop."

Of course he ignores her.

"I liked it. But it's too...sexy for convention. You should wear that for someone special. I doubt anyone with a beating heart would be able to resist you."

What the fuck.

This isn't who they are, when did they become comfortable enough for conversations like this? They despised each other, right? Confused and annoyingly flattered, she peels the dress off her body trying her hardest not to think about the fact that only a door separates him and her naked body.

"I would love to see the others. But I have to go, but if you want my opinion. Red is definitely your color."

"What?" She replies, but she can hear the too loud click of the front opening and then closing and just as capriciously as he arrived, he leaves.

Burying something that feels a lot like disappointment she flops onto her bed, head fuzzy like its been wrapped in cotton.

"What is going on?"

They don't see much of each other the next day and it's unusual given how much they see each other on a regular basis but she refuses to think about it or even consider that he's avoiding her. He's just busy and she doesn't care anyway, they have nothing to do with each other.

The convention is in two days now, she has her overnight bag packed with all her new purchases and the messages have been pouring in their group chat. She's mostly chosen to ignore them but on a whim she decides to check what they're so excited about, only to feel her stomach drop.

Why isn't Hye Jin answering?

Maybe she's busy with her mystery man 😉

Oh! She has to bring him, we need to interrogate him!

Yoon Hye Jin don't pretend you don't see these messages!!

That she had forgotten about.

"Why did you tell them that he's interested in you? Has living here altered your brain, you idiot." She berates herself.

"Who's interested in you? Why are you an idiot?" Mi-seon looks curious from the doorway, without waiting for an invitation she hops onto the bed with two cans of beer. She grabs one, drinking it in a flash.

"Oh it's that kind of night." Mi-seon says excitedly running to grab more beers.

"So let me get this straight, you told them that Chief Hong is interested in you and that he's been chasing you but you're not interested?"

She nods meekly, wishing the floor would swallow her up.

"Why did you lie?"

That's the brunt of the issue, she's a liar. She should have sent her initial message and told them that there was nothing between them but how could she when they were all calling him handsome and acting like she finally did something right? She'd spent that entire dinner feeling like her teenage self on the outside looking in, wanting nothing more than to be someone worthy of being included.

"I know I should have told the truth."

"Yes, you should have told them that you're interested in him too."

Huh.

Time stops as she processes the words that her best friend just uttered. There is static in her head as she tries to make sense of it.

"What are you talking about?"

Mi-seon looks at her unimpressed.

"You can both keep lying to yourself but the rest of us aren't as stupid. You're both interested in each other. It's mutual."

She wants to ardently deny the accusation but the words are caught in her throat and all she can manage are refusing sounds.

"You've been wearing red all week." Mi-seon says accusingly and she jumps up in huff, "So what? I'm allowed to wear colors!"

"You hate wearing red. You said it makes your skin look too pale. You hardly ever wear it. So color me surprised when I learned that red is the favorite color of a certain part timer."

That damn town chat. There has to be a way to get Mi-seon out of it. Maybe it was a mistake letting her live here. She was learning too much.

"Don't even bother to deny it. I won't believe anything you say. But I think you should ask him to go with you, you'll get some time alone to figure this out."

There's nothing to figure out. They are..... acquaintances who can admit that the other is vaguely attractive at times. His face isn't all that bad and she's pretty, so it's natural that there is tension at times, like he said they were still humans.

So she doesn't tell him about her fib, pretending everything is fine until it's the day of the convention and her anxiety has all but smothered her and her hands have a slight tremble in them as she starts to drive.

"It's going to be fine. Everything will be okay." She doesn't believe a word she's saying to herself, her heart is thumping in her heaving chest. She doesn't want to go alone. Convincing Mi-seon to leave was a failed endeavour, her and that police officer becoming inseparable. She knew what that smile meant when her best friend had realized that she would have the house to herself. She could barely get a word in as Mi-seon started frantically shaving her legs then pushed her out of the bathroom to "shave her wild cat".

With a sigh she starts driving, the car too quiet despite what she'd told Du-Sik and the Gongjin grannies. Uncharacteristically she turns on the radio, kpop blaring from the speakers. She recognizes the tune, never before has something as mundane as butter seemed so interesting but the kitchen essential was given new life by the song. She bops her head to the catchy beat, trying to ignore the fact that she's driving to the lion's den.

Some time later, she pulls into the hotel a valet already coming over to get her car. Grabbing her overnight bag, she exits the car handing her keys to the waiting hands of the valet.

Everyone is here and none of them had come alone, she was the only one without a plus one. They haven't noticed her yet so she watches as they all laugh at a joke she can't hear, unnecessarily stroking at their husband's chests as if to show off their exorbitantly priced wedding rings. Everything was always a competition here.

She shouldn't have come. Their was nothing about her life that they would be envious of. She was going to make a fool of herself. Impulsively she starts stepping back but it's too late, Hong In-A spots her and points her out and immediately all eyes are on her, they all start walking over to her and she wants nothing more than to run far, far away. Get on a bus and go to the beach and never see any of them ever again. But she's no longer a child, no longer that scared little girl; worked too hard to shed that skin.

Fortifying herself she puts on a fake smile. Ready for war.

"Hye-Jin ah, there you are. We were beginning to think you wouldn't come. You never responded in the group chat." Ye-Ri states with an attitude, looking around her as if searching for someone and eyes brightening when she sees no one. "Did you come alone?" This makes all of them perk up, looking around like chickens with their heads clucking. She swallows the shame the question elicits, "Who would I be with? I told you in already, it's not like that."

They all look at her with pity, it makes her want to slap them all across the face. Who were they to make her feel like shit, she didn't need anyone that didn't make her pathetic.

Finally one of the husbands cracks the awkward tension by introducing himself, she tries her best to ignore the pervasive way his eyes run down her body. Instinctively she crosses her arms, feeling naked under his stare. Nobody else notices her discomfort and after all the introductions, they all walk away as if she's no longer worth their time.

Lump in her throat she walks into the hotel, determined not to show them that they've gotten under her skin.

There's a scheduled lunch and she tries to find a new table but Sung-Mi waves her over and she doesn't see anyone else she recognizes or wants to sit with.

He hadn't been wrong, she has no friends besides Mi-seon.

"You were looking around, were you looking for someone? Are we not good enough to sit with?" The question is asked with a bite and sneer as if the idea is laughable that she would ever be better than any of them.

She swallows her pride, "No nothing like that. I was merely looking around."

Sung-Mi looks satisfied as if putting her in her place has righted her world.

They begin a conversation that completely excludes her, regaling drama that she knows nothing about and doing nothing to bring her up to date or invite her to join. It's the polar opposite of her experience in the countryside and with shocking clarity she realizes that she wishes she were there, it's only been a few hours but she misses it. Nobody looks down on her there, no usually she's the only doing that she notes with shame.

"I'll find the restroom." She says to no one because none of them are paying her any mind except the husband with the wandering eyes and she would much rather not have that attention.

Thankfully the bathroom is empty and she has to stop herself from splashing water on her face, her make-up was done perfectly it would be a waste to ruin it. Pushing her hair behind her ears she takes a deep breath and then another until her head is clearer, the noise lessening.

"It's only a day and a night. You've suffered far worst."

With that lacking pep talk she exits the bathroom, almost colliding into a wall. Wait, no it's just a person- a chest to be specific. She looks up ready to apologize when a familiar face stops her in her tracks.

"What are you doing here?" She stares flabbergasted at him, more dressed up than she's ever seen him. In a white suit with a white vest, the tee-shirt peeking under the only thing that feels like him to her. And his white sneakers. She can't hide her surprise at his sudden appearance and without thinking she starts to pull him to the side, to avoid being seen but she's not fast enough and soon they are swarmed by her colleagues, before she even has a chance to talk to him.

"Aren't you the man from the picture?" Yoo-Jin asks blushing way too much for a married woman if her husband's cold stare means anything.

"The picture?" Du-sik replies, clearly confused.

"You're the guy that's chasing after her. She told us that you liked her and you were courting her." Sung-Mi answers for her, she wants to vanish. It would be better if she had never existed. Even non-existence would be better than this embarrassing moment. "I got a picture of you two last time, when you followed her."

His eyes ping-pong between the group and her and she realizes this is his chance to ruin her. After everything she's done, all her rude comments and snobby remarks about the town and people he cares for so much, this is his chance for revenge. He can laugh and deny any feelings for her, tell them all that she's a liar and he's never been interested in her, not even once. This is what is going to happen. She prepares herself for the fall out, surely after this she won't be able to show her face in Seoul again.

He starts to laugh and her stomach tightens, her palms are so sweaty.

Here it goes.

"Oh I guess she wanted to keep me a secret."

Wait. What. That doesn't sound like denial.

"We're together now. I finally bulldozed those walls and made her mine. Nice to meet you all I'm Hong Du-sik, Hye-Jin ah's boyfriend."

Her eyes widen as he bows and starts to shake hands with the husbands, the one that stared at her looking disappointed. Their handshake goes on for a second too long, eventually with the latter pulling away with a pained look. She's too confused to consider what that means.

"And you were so cold earlier saying you had no one. Did you want to make a fool of us?"

He answers for her, "It's nothing like that, my honey is still getting used to us. I'm sorry I'm so late I had something to take care of."

Her head is spinning too fast to keep up with everything happening and she's grateful when he excuses them and guides her outside with a large hand on her hip.

Fresh air is much appreciated and she takes in huge heaps of it as soon as they're free.

Then reality crashes down on her.

He knows about her lying.

He had called her bluff.

But he didn't out her.

"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" She finally manages to say, head still reeling.

But instead of answering he's staring at her legs, then slowly his eyes swivel upward cross her thighs curving around her hips, past her breasts (a bit too slow there) before moving to her collar and settling on her face.

"You look great."

She feels the heat rushing to her face. What was he doing to her?

It hadn't been in purpose but she finds herself in red again, an a line dress with criss crossing straps over her shoulder and a middle slit. It was conservative without being too formal or professional. She'd felt comfortable in it but now seeing that look on his face, comfort is the last thing she feels.

He was distracting her and she couldn't afford that with those harpies inside waiting for her downfall. They needed to get back on track.

"What are you doing here?" She tries again, but he responds with his own question, "Why did you tell them that I was chasing you?"

"It was a mistake. They thought we were together and I just....said that for no reason." It's half the truth.

"They don't seem like your friends. You looked like you needed someone on your side, so I just found myself saying we were together for no reason."

She looks at him blankly, heart pounding now. In her moment of weakness instead of kicking her, he'd lended a helping hand. What kind of person did it make her for expecting the former?

"So what now?" She asks still in disbelief that he's here and that he'd told people that there were dating, she would be angry and offended later that they had readily believed it. Perhaps it didn't seem too farfetched now with him looking like that right now.

"Well, don't look but they're watching us through the glass."

This time she finds herself turning to look and he's the one that has to stop her, he does so by suddenly grabbing her hand and tugging her into his body. She squeaks at the collision. Leaning down so his lips are level with her ear, he speaks, "We can give them a show. I'm happy to be your pretend boyfriend."

Why?

She yearns to ask him why he's willing to go this far for her? Why was he even here when she had never told him where the convention was taking place? But his words were hot on her ear and she's tired of being their source of entertainment so she nods looking up at him, "Just this once. I'm going to lean on you. Let me borrow your eraser and copy your homework."

He stares before a blinding smile graces his handsome face.

"Let's go then." His hand is heavy on her waist as he walks back towards the hotel, taking his role very seriously it seems.

He fits in perfectly. Able to talk about a plethora of topics to anyone he's introduced to and even she's impressed by him. Be it travel, philosophy or poetry he seems well versed in everything things that even she is ignorant to and it makes her regret the way she looked down on him before, he was anything but a country bumpkin.

She leaves him to his conversation to get a drink, a whiskey on the rocks. Needing something hard tonight.

Not that. Down brain.

"Yoon Hye Jin? I would recognize that face anywhere."

Twisting to face the voice, she sees a familiar face- old classmate. Rung Do-Bae, they weren't anything more than classmates despite his many, many attempts.

His eyes sweep over her hungrily. She swallows her drink, painting on a shallow smile.

"Sunbae, how nice to see you here."

Invading her space he grabs her hand, "There is no need for such formalities. You can just call me by my name, Hye Jin ah."

As if she ever would.

Gently she tries to extract her hand but he won't let go and she doesn't want to make a scene.

Suddenly she's warmed by a body pressing into her, she knows who it is without even looking, her body relaxes immediately.

"Sorry I got lost in conversation honey. Who might this be? Another friend of yours?" He thrusts his right hand out and Do-Bae has no choice but to release her hand to return his handshake. Scarily enough she's starting to become used to his nickname, barely reacting to him using it again.

"Yes, this is my sunbae from school. Sunbae this is Hong Du Sik my....."

She knows that this is all an act, they were doing this to help her but she can't bring her tongue to form around the word, boyfriend.

"Her boyfriend." He finishes for her, pulling her tighter to his body.

But Do-Bae looks suspicious now.

"Boyfriend? I thought you were still single. You never changed your status on SNS. I've checked."

"Why are you so curious about that?" Du-sik challenges in return, doing a great job of sounding like a jealous boyfriend. She's almost even convinced.

"Hye Jin ah and I have always had a very special relationship. Beyond that of a hoobae and sunbae. Isn't that right?" He directs the last bit to her and she feels Du-sik stiffen next to her, seemingly believing these lies. So she clears that up.

"I have no idea what you're referring to honestly. We have never had anything that would constitute as a "special" relationship. I would appreciate if you didn't spread such lies, especially to my boyfriend. Enjoy the rest of your night."

She tugs Du-sik away, not waiting for a reply from the other man. The conversation was over anyway.

When they get far enough he speaks, "You have a lot of admirers."

She raises an eyebrow at the non-sequitur.

"Are you surprised?"

He brushes a hand across her cheek, making her freeze.

"No. It makes sense."

She blinks slowly before laughing, it sounds fake even to her ears.

"You should have been an actor. Your acting skills are incredible." He doesn't laugh, doesn't move before they're pulled into another conversation and she tries not to think about how tightly his body is pressed against her own.

"How is he in bed? He hasn't left you alone all day, I bet it's passionate." As soon as lunch had ended they had invited her to a spa, she'd considered saying no but she knew they would talk about her even if she wasn't there so it was best to at least know what they were saying.

Du-sik looked sad to see her go, but she told herself that she wasn't good at reading his faces. They hardly knew each other.

"I can't remember the last time I had a passionate night of sex. Kids and a full time job, leave no time for that. I'm pretty sure he's cheating on me and I'm too tired to even care." Sung-Mi confesses and she's shocked when the others nod in agreement instead of threatening to castrate him, as she'd done when Mi-seon told her about her ex boyfriend cheating.

"I have no complaints. He's... attentive. He's always touching me and pushing his way into my space. He's gentle but passionate, and I like...that he's so much bigger than me." She knows she should stop, this is definitely taking the lies too far. But that night bleeds into her thoughts, making everything she's saying feel true. He'd been so gentle with her, those huge hands cupping her face. She wondered how they would feel on other parts of her body.

"Damn. Look at you getting horny just from remembering. I'm so jealous."

Jealous. There were envious of her, it was all she'd been hoping for but the happiness she expected to erupt never comes. Instead she feels cheap, like she'd used Du-sik for her own benefit. She had tainted that night. This wasn't what she wanted.

As the day had gone on she found herself looking at him too much, he'd come all the way just for her and regardless of her brain trying to minimize that, it was huge. He hated snobby people like them who based a person's worth in their monetary success and yet he put on a smile and chatted with everyone, letting them mock his way of life and call people like him useless dreamers. All while she did nothing to defend him and drank wine, happy that they were being accepted.

He was the perfect gentleman all day and he was getting nothing in return for this. It was all just to help her.

Would a friend truly go this far to help? Was she being naive or was it like Mi-seon said, was she lying to herself?

"I'm such an idiot."

Without another word, she flees the sauna rushing to the locker room and changing back into her clothes. Nobody follows her because they aren't her friends. Why had she wasted so much time trying to impress these people who aren't even truly happy in their own lives?

The drive back is long, and she doesn't know what she's going to say but she knows that she's tired of being scared.

Leaving the key in the car she rushes past the valet, into the hotel elevator pressing their floor and waiting impatiently.

It takes three tries to get into their hotel room but once the door opens, he's right there. Sitting in the seat by the window reading a book.

"You're back early. I thought you would be gone until three?" He looks up, dog earring his book and giving her his full attention. Her heart skips a beat.

"Why did you agree to do this for me? Why go through all this trouble for me?"

It's the same question he's been asking himself since he first met her. Why was he was interested in her and why did he keep wanting to save her?

It was the desire that led to him being here.

He had accidentally overhead Mi-seon talking to Eun Chol about being worried about her, the convention was overnight and everyone would be bringing someone and she'd be all alone. The thought of her alone and isolated, made him race to her without a plan. Only stopping at a store to buy his outfit so he would fit in with her crowd, he'd spent more in that shop then he usually did in a week. But it was worth it for her.

It was a miracle that she hadn't questioned his presence more, he knew it was shameless and deceiving but none of this felt like pretending to him. His jealousy had been real, he'd had to strangle the urge to kick the pervert husband with the wandering eyes and then the insistent sunbae who wouldn't take a hint. She was a vision in the red dress and it wasn't a surprise that men found her enchanting, he just didn't like them looking at her. But she wasn't his, never would be because he couldn't confess.

They weren't right for each other.

"Do you like me?"

That question again. Last time he had laughed it off, called it absurd. But it wasn't. Not liking her would have been absurd.

"I don't know why you're asking me that."

"Because I'm tired of us lying to ourselves. Don't laugh and don't you dare say it's absurd again."

He can't respond, he's stuck on the word "us". It wasn't just him, they were an us?

Hearing that gives him courage he had long thought had been most forever.

"I wasn't pretending today. Nothing was fake to me, I meant it all." It's terrifying, unchartered land for them and he waits to see which one of them will chicken out first. It's sure to happen.

"I'm going to kiss you." She says instead of running like he expected and secretly wished for.

And then she's crossing the room and leaning down to grab his face, she watches him giving him a chance to pull away but he does the opposite, this time he meeting her half way. As soon as their lips meet the kiss is already too much, she's sliding into his lap and he wraps his arms around her tugging her closer until their chests are squished together.

He hasn't kissed anyone like this in a long time.

Hasn't been this close to losing control in a longer time.

"You're dangerous." He whispers into her mouth and she giggles at the statement, wiggling in his arms and rolling into him forcing a punched out groan from his lips.

Carefully he lifts her shirt watching her face closely for any signs that she wants to stop but finding nothing but her palpable lust.

Her skin is unbelievably smooth and soft and he can't stop himself from stroking her, rubbing at her back his hands resting right above her butt.

"How long have you felt this way?" She asks softly seductively nipping at his neck and running a hand over his shirt to caress his stomach, he physically aches for her.

"I wanted you the moment I saw you. But I didn't feel this until you convinced grandma to get her implants. That was when it became more for me."

She looks surprised and he is too, that they're speaking so candidly about feelings they've always denied.

"What about you?"

She stops licking at his neck to look him in the eyes. He's nervous to hear her reply.

"I.... don't know."

He tries to hide his disappointment. Maybe she was starting to retreat back into her shell. Maybe he shouldn't have been so honest.

He's about to untangle them when she continues, "It wasn't at first sight but one day I found myself looking for you. Seeing you become the best part of my day, I started to count on you to be there for me. To expect it. Just like this, I've been scared to lean on anyone until I met you."

Now that's a confession.

Impulsively he stands with her still on his lap, forcing her to to latch onto him so she doesn't tumble to the floor. Not that this would ever happen because he would never let her fall.

"I could have fell!" She cries, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her half naked bra clad body so close to him is causing another biological crisis in his pants.

Walking to the large bed in the middle of the room he falls backwards, enjoying the view of her on top of him a little too much.

It's all probably too soon and they should probably slow down, but his body is strumming and he wants nothing more than to break her apart.

"I'm all sweaty. I should take a shower."

Instantly an image of her wet and naked under the downpour of a shower flashes in his mind and he has to twist away from her.

"Pervert." She accuses but he can hear how satisfied she is with his reaction. Damn tease.

"Do you want to join me?" She teases some more, having fun now that she knows her power over him.

He looks at her helplessly.

"Are you having fun? Remember what I told you before? I'm still a guy. You're sitting here in your bra taunting me, do you think I'm that much of a good guy? Do you think I don't want to throw you down, rip your clothes off and eat you alive? I'm so hard right now just seeing you naked would be enough to push me over the edge. So don't make propositions you can't follow through on."

She looks dizzy from his words, eyes hooded and glossy. He watches her gulp and then stagger off to the bathroom, without a word to him. It's probably for the best, everything is too charged right now.

A shower for her and many glasses of water for him later, she's back and it's almost time for dinner.

"I think they said dinner starts at 6. Should we head down?"

She glances at him, while opening her bag and pulling out skin creams and some fuzzy socks.

"Would you be opposed to ordering room service and staying here?"

It's the best offer he's heard all day, only second to her asking if he wanted to join her in the shower.

"What about your colleagues?" He asks to make certain that she's really okay with this.

"What about them?" She replies with a shrug and he grins picking up the room service menu.

They order too much food and not enough alcohol but neither of them want to forget this night. She tells him stories about her time in dental school and he's happy to get to know her better, chuckling at the funny stories and commiserating at the sad ones.

Before he knows it night has fallen.

And he realizes that they'll be sharing a bed. Unless she wants him to sleep on the couch.

She's wearing a big shirt and loose shorts and he still can't believe he gets to see her like this.

"Are you coming to bed?" She's already getting under the sheet and that answers his question, this is really happening. He starts to follow her lead, getting under the sheets but keeping a respectable distance between them.

"I'm cold." She announces suddenly and he starts to look for a thermostat in the room or an extra blanket, before realizing that she's looking at him over her shoulder, he stares back confused before she lifts an eyebrow and oh, he gets it. Carefully moving closer he feels her warmth surround him as they meet, forth to back.

"Took you long enough." She grumbles, pulling his arm over here body and settling back into him moving until she's comfortable.

She's so close and warm and her smell is all around him and he feels his restraint dissolving and when she presses back into him, her hip rubbing against his crotch he bites down on his bottom lip.

It's too much for him to resist and without warning or preamble, he's turning her to face him and swallowing her moan of surprise eagerly. He grabs her head firmly holding her in place and slips his tongue into her open mouth, her unique taste exploding on his taste buds. He's hungry for more. So he starts to tug down her shorts, heart beat thundering in his groin. She kicks the shorts away, and he groans at the sight of her panties she was trying to kill him, he was certain.

"You're the devil." He chokes out staring at red lace, he'll never be able to see the color again without getting a raging hard on.

"You haven't seen anything yet. Honey." The word drips from her tongue just like the real thing.

Forgetting all reason and logics he lunges at her, devouring her mouth and sticking his hand in her panties. She's so warm and fuck, wet drenching his fingers.

Simultaneously he thrusts his tongue into her mouth and his fingers in her wet folds, groaning as she melts like butter under his touch. There's no resistance, as he plunges two fingers inside her experimentally before picking up his place when she clutches onto him and grinds back on his fingers, begging the whole time.

"More, more, please!"

As if he could ever deny her anything, with one hand he grabs her ass and the other he thrusts into her opening over and over until her voice gets breathy and she starts to stutter, squirming wildly in his arms and he knows exactly what's coming: the beautiful end. So without warning he pulls back the sheet and slithers down her body, throwing her legs around his head and pushing his tongue in to the brim, hungrily drinking at her until she shakes and combusts in his arms. Sweet on his tongue, he swallows it all greedily.

He strokes her as she recovers from her high, climbing back up her body. So much for taking things slow, but he can't even think about regretting it when he sees the blissed out look on her face. He wants to imprint it in his mind. Nobody else will ever get to see this face but him.

"It's your turn." She says sounding loopy like she's drunk and he laughs as she reaches for the tent in his pants but misses his bulge and instead falls into him.

"You're tired. Go to sleep. That was enough for me, seeing you like that fulfilled every fantasy I've had. "

He truly means it. He's a giver. And it's not like he can't tug one out later in the bathroom with her face and moans playing on repeat in his brain.

She starts to argue, but her phone vibrating on the nightstand distracts her. Reaching over she picks it up before chuckling and flopping back into the bed.

"What?" He asks curious, jealous of whoever is making her smile like that.

Ignorant to his inner thoughts, she thrusts her phone into his face. The room is so dark it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright lighting of the phone, but once he can see he reads the message on her phone and starts to laugh too.

"Dusik is missing! Nobody has seen him all day!! We started a search party."

#hometown cha cha cha #sikhye couple #caution 😈 ahead #hong du shik #yoon hye jin #living rent free

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leiawritesstories · 3 years

Text

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

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

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair.

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job.

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth.

As if she knew anything her staff actually did.

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together.

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation.

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself.

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order.

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English.

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple.

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved.

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure.

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved.

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve.

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind.

“You broke both of your hearts”

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart.

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice.

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds.

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city.

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner.

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed.

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction.

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth.

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love. We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath.

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages.

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan.

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof.

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech.

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying.

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan.

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing.

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow.

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything.

She was worthy of him.

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified.

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

Present day.

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked.

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch.

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.”

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

#my writing #rowaelin month #aaaaaangst

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