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superstar-nan · 5 months

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Fight Tooth and Nail: Ch 3

Summary: You get to know the local zombie before trying to get your best friend's phone back

Words: 3,568

Fun stuff: Descriptions of rotting bodies, canon typical violence, asphyxiation and blunt force trauma, and mild swearing. Springtrap's still the worst and Michael's a bit harsh but he has a good heart.

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Hours or minutes or an eternity passed; you didn’t know. Your eyes burned and your head was too heavy with your oscillating emotions. You mindlessly tapped on the panel when it yelled at you, and it quieted just as quickly. Your body ached desperately for a comfortable bed to rest in. Earlier that night, you had spent hours folded in a vent. Now, the hard floor didn’t make a good cushion, the desk didn’t make a good pillow, and the corpse didn’t make good company.

Or maybe it was you that didn’t make good company. The corpse seemed busy, tapping and switching and scanning and tapping again. You were less busy and you wore your misery like a blanket.

You could feel the bags gathering under your eyes. You didn’t know if it was the crying, the fatigue, or the smell that was making your eyes burn. You rubbed them. Unlike the murderous animatronic, the corpse’s smell was more difficult to get used to.

Your blood started to move again at the thought of the rotted bunny. It had baited you and you fell for it. You wished that you hadn’t dropped the crowbar and that the corpse hadn’t stopped the monster, just so you could play out a violent fantasy of tearing and smashing and gnashing and breaking— Rage was filling you with life again, but you were too exhausted to light anything but a spark.

You sighed, quiet and weary. You tapped the panel as it angrily made noises at you.

The corpse didn’t turn his head to look at you, but he spoke and that made you wonder if your sigh drew his attention slightly. “What’s your name?” He said, his voice low and quiet and british. You didn’t notice before when he was harshly whispering at you, but the corpse was british.

You dragged your eyes over to him, then to the clock. 2:17 AM. “What, we can talk now?”

“Quietly,” He answered, either ignoring or oblivious to your spite.

You didn’t like looking at him for too long; you could see his teeth through his cheeks. You dragged your gaze back to your panel as you told him your name. He hummed in response.

“What’s yours?” You asked, your voice flat and coarse. Your eyes were lidded with fatigue; you could see your lashes.

“Michael.”

If you had any energy, you’d laugh. Instead, you restarted the cameras before it yelled at you. “Michael the zombie.”

For a fraction of a second, the corpse’s— Michael’s sallow eyes flicked to you. Even in your fatigue and your unwillingness to look at him, you saw his fingers twitch slightly. Just as quickly, his eyes flicked back to the screen and he was tapping and switching again. He said your name, and added, “...The criminal.”

You didn’t have the tact he had. “I’m not a—”

“ Shh!” He interrupted you.

You gripped the panel a little tighter. Your voice wasn’t even barely above a whisper. You lowered it anyway, “I’m not a criminal.”

Michael took a sip of a gas station soda cup wet with condensation. You fought the urge to stare in case the soda was visible through the holes in his face. “You work here?”

You were quiet.

“Didn’t think so.”

You would have been more annoyed if your head didn’t feel like it was exploding. “I don’t have to explain anything to a corpse.” You wanted to sound biting, but your voice was just tired.

Michael stopped, frozen as he stared at the monitors and his decrepit fingers locked. Then, he resumed his flipping and clicking. “Audio.”

“It’s loading.”

He didn’t respond, silently keeping watch and playing childrens noises that nagged at you, haunted you. You bit your tongue, partially out of contemplation and partially in an attempt to wake yourself up. You decidedly turned your head and looked at the camera monitors. Even as you squinted and flicked your eyes from monitor to monitor, you couldn’t spot the animatronic anywhere. Everything looked the same as it always did, a mediocre haunted establishment.

Michael then selected the audio on CAM 7. Even then, you struggled to see anything. It wasn’t until you looked at Michael’s eyes, decayed as they were, and followed exactly where they fell that you saw it.

Two pinpricks of reflected light in the shadow. An edge of fear brought life back into your breath. You swallowed and your brow furrowed. Your lip trembled slightly underneath your teeth. How could a piece of machinery as big as the rotted Bonnie stay so hidden? You recalled the thing’s silent footsteps when you tried to leave. You shivered.

“The ventilation.”

You tapped on the ventilation, but didn’t take your eyes off the reflected pinpricks. You thought it might disappear if you took your eyes from it for a second. “What’s it doing?”

“ Shh, ” You weren’t nearly as bothered by the corpse’s shush, entranced with watching the pinpricks. You couldn’t tell if they had moved slightly or if it was just the static of the old cameras.

“What is it?” You whispered. The pinpricks were glued to the camera. It was watching the camera. Your heart dropped at the possibility of it watching you. It couldn’t, not through the camera obviously, but the thought was enough to fool your heart for just a moment.

“I don’t have to explain anything to a criminal.”

You stared at the back of Michael’s head, unkempt hair just a bit too shiny underneath his security hat. You were just tired enough and just emotional enough to consider bashing in his head with the crowbar.

You turned back to the screen. Your breath hitched. The pinpricks were gone. Michael was swiping through the cameras so quickly, you couldn’t even follow which rooms he was flicking through. It didn’t matter though, because the animatronic wasn’t hiding.

CAM 8. There were the gift boxes you had scattered in your escape. The rotted Bonnie’s silhouette was complete shadow as it eclipsed the lighted chica head behind it. The shadows and the static couldn’t hide the rotted notches and nicks in the animatronic’s decaying body. In fact, the light behind it only accentuated its deterioration. The rotted Bonnie turned its head to the camera in a broken and jagged fashion, both too fast and too slow in uneven movements. Its eyes glossed over with reflected light, like two unnatural, hostile moons. It slowly began raising its arm.

“Audio.”

You ignored Michael, your eyes glued to the screen. The movement of its arm was smooth, cleaner than the turn of its head. Too clean, so even it looked wrong. Its silhouette was wholly encased in shadow. The object it was holding up for you was encased in shadow.

Undead eyes flicked to you, “Audio.” When he saw you were entranced, Michael tried to swipe the control panel from hands, but you pulled it away just out of his reach. Even then you didn’t tear your eyes from the screen.

The animatronic slowly lowered the object onto a gift box. Only its arm moved, once again too smooth to look right. Its eyes never left the camera and neither did yours.

“How did it know I was watching?” You whispered, more to yourself than to the corpse.

Michael cursed under his breath and swiped the panel out of your hands, fumbling to restart the audio. The animatronic’s eyes glossed again with that reflected light. It turned away even before the audio had finished restarting and receded into the shadows. Michael switched to CAM 9 and played the cursed child’s laughter. Though, even without being able to see it, you knew the rotted Bonnie was already there.

The control panel was shoved into your hands again, grounding you back into the office. You began rebooting the ventilation.

“He’s baiting you,” Michael whispered, as if you didn’t know that already—as if you hadn’t already fallen for it. He flicked between cameras again, seeing something that you couldn’t. “Sit back down away from the cameras.”

You ignored him, watching the cameras as you leaned slightly against the back of Michael’s chair. “Did you see what he set down? Was it the phone?”

“I said, he’s baiting you. ”

“I know!” One sharp look from the corpse and you immediately lowered your voice, “I know, but...” You bit your lip as you watched the screen. Your grip on the back of Michael’s chair tightened. “There’s no way that-that thing will leave it there all night.”

“That’s the point. He’s b— ” Michael stopped whispering when he looked at your expression. You must have been an open book, but his expression had more subtleties you had difficulty deciphering. Maybe it was because his face was rotting away. He turned away from you. “Don’t fall for it.”

Your grip tightened even more, and then you let go of Michael’s chair all at once. You turned away from the cameras as you sat back on the floor and leaned against the desk.

You stared at the control panel in your hands. There was silence only interrupted by the sound of the clicking and switching of the cameras. A child’s laughter not quite right, the damned child’s laughter , played from Michael’s direction. Even after the switching-clicking resumed, the laughter echoed in your head, followed by the last words your best friend ever spoke to you: Come... Come to... Hurry .

Your gaze fell on the worn down wheels of Michael’s chair. Your chest felt heavy. “Did you meet the security guard before you?” You asked, quietly. Even quieter than Michael had been shushing you for.

The corpse paused. He, as always, didn’t turn toward you. “No.”

You clenched your teeth and your breath was trembling from your lips. You rebooted the cameras.

There was more silence. The hum of the vents turned on, filling the room with an ambient drone. The hum drowned out the buzz of the sickly yellow lights, which you hadn’t noticed was buzzing until the vents smothered it.

Michael was the one to break the silence, “I’m not sure what he took from you.” You could barely hear him over the ventilation. “Though I can guess. With him... he makes it hard to show restraint, but you’ll be glad when—”

You almost felt guilty when he turned around only for you to be already standing and setting the control panel next to him.

“... Or not.”

“You can keep him away from camera eight, right?” You said, giving your best smile. Your stomach did horrified flips when Michael scrunched his rotted face up (possibly in annoyance? you couldn’t tell) and the lesions in his skin contorted. You swallowed and prayed your expression didn’t show your horror.

He rotated his seat back to the cameras, “You’re gonna die.”

“I’m not saying draw him to you, just keep him closer to Foxy’s head or something.” You said, tapping on the control panel to reboot the audio one last time. You grabbed the crowbar and turned to the office door.

“You’re gonna die.” He repeated, “And whoever you think he killed, they’re probably dead too.”

You didn’t like that. Your grip tightened on the crowbar and you tasted iron in your mouth. You unclenched your teeth. You walked past the office window, pointedly not looking past the glass.

After you passed the office window, your steps slowed. You didn’t dare use your phone as a flashlight. The rotted Bonnie knew you were coming. Hell, it planned for you to. You only hoped Michael didn’t see you as a lost cause—or even worse, bait— and would actually keep the rotted Bonnie from you.

Slowly, your movements became deliberate. You stilled your breath nearly to asphyxiation. Sweat tickled the back of your neck. Each step was weighed like concrete, your fear fighting you for control. The dull buzz from the lights covered your soft steps against the grimy checkered floor. You kept to the shadows as best you could, hugging dirty walls and corners.

You dared to peer past the hall where the foxy head was mounted. If the rotted bonnie was in there, you couldn’t see it. You swallowed, thick and coarse.

The sound of your own heartbeat seemed to echo in the hall. You slipped into the hallway where stars dangled from the ceiling. The arcade box you had hid behind should have illuminated your path. It was off now. You didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. You gripped your crowbar with two hands.

Your heart was too loud. Your breath was too loud. Even when you held your breath you were too loud. The hallway extended endlessly and was too short. Was it behind you?

You pivoted, crowbar over your shoulder. No one was there. You turned slowly back. You kept the crowbar raised.

An artificial child’s voice startled you. You pressed your back to the wall and you heard it. Mechanical steps forced to trudge toward the noise. The animatronic’s march even in the darkness casted a large, terrifying shadow; massive tattered torso hunched, torn bunny ears bent across the ceiling, open rotting maw revealing blunted teeth, sharp protrusions poking out like claws where soft fingertips fell away. After agonizing seconds, the shadow marched across the wall and was gone.

You waited until you could no longer hear mechanized trudging. Even when there was nothing, you waited just a breath longer. Then, you slowly turned the corner. It wasn’t there. You quietly, quietly, please let your footsteps be quiet , moved forward.

You were close. You just had to turn one more corner, and you would be there. Just one more corner. It would be there, on the gift boxes. Just one more corner. Just one more corner .

You were shaking when you peeked past the corner, before swiping back just as fast. It didn’t see you. It was turned away from you. It was massive. It didn’t see you. You just had to keep telling yourself that. It didn’t see you. It was so massive. It didn’t see you.

You heard nothing, but you didn’t dare move. You held your breath and brought the crowbar level to your eyes. You didn’t know if you could even do any harm to it with the crowbar, but it was your lifeline.

The hum of the vents declined. You had to bite your lip to keep any noise from passing your lips. Your lungs burned for air, but you wouldn’t breath. You tasted iron again. When your lungs couldn’t take anymore asphyxiation, you opened your mouth wide, wide enough that you could breath slowly without making much noise. You still cursed the small noise you did make.

After too long, you peeked past the corner again, slowly. You were alone. You prayed you were alone.

You slipped past the corner. It was dark, but you could see it. A phone, there on the gift box, right where it left it. You cautiously checked to see if it was going to jump out at you. When it wasn’t, you rushed for the phone.

LOUD artificial music—FLASHING rainbow colors—You nearly jumped out of your skin, before throwing the toy phone on the ground, shattering it to pieces. It wasn’t your best friend’s phone on the gift boxes. Just a freddy toy, set to lure you in like a lamb to the slaughter.

Rage started to seep into your cheeks. It was a ruse, and you should have known it was. Michael knew it was. Did your best friend fall for these tricks when they were being hunted? Your teeth grit and your knuckles paling under pressure. “ Bastard. ” You seethed quietly.

-Click- from behind you.

You poured all your vengeance into one swing, every last bit of bitterness and madness. It didn’t do anything, of course. Decaying hands of metal and fur caught the crowbar with one hand, and how unfair it was that you couldn’t destroy it. With your fear forgotten, all you wanted was to tear each soiled scrap with your teeth and bury your fingernails in its too-sentient eyes. It would be right if that did happen, but when was anything ever right?

Instead, a hand of metal and rot grabbed your throat.

You couldn’t scream, you couldn’t breathe; pain and strength constricted your throat. It was strong, so strong! Who designed these things to be so strong?! You writhed as you clawed into its arm, scraping decay under your fingernails.

You kicked, you scratched, you pried—nothing you did even phased the animatronic, the monster whose eyes were too-alive more than ever. Eyes that looked delighted to watch you thrash and suffer, its permanent grin somehow looking wider and more gleeful. Was that just how the animatronic was supposed to look?

The pain ebbed into something dull. Your head started to feel light. Your kicking and beating slowed. Tears pin pricked in your eyes, but your vision was already fading. You slammed your eyes shut. Both your hands came to its iron grip, summoning whatever strength you had left to pry its claws open.

By some miracle, they did open, and you collapsed against the wall. You hadn’t noticed you were pushed against the wall. Your lungs filled with air too cold and wet; you coughed violently and it burned in your chest. You sucked in air in gulps, and it was gone too quickly.

Your throat was seized again, and this time you could feel it pinning you against the wall, lifting you to your toes. You dug your nails into its arm again, your other hand beating against its arm, its chest, anything . This time, you tried to cry out, but nothing could sound but a faint wheeze. Tears dripped down your cheeks as you grit your teeth and kicked and kicked and kicked—

You were feeling dull again; light and heavy at the same time. Your head throbbed and soon it was the only thing you could feel. Your eyes closed. You tried to tear at its grip, but your fingers felt too weak. Then, you couldn’t feel them at all...

In a gasp, you were released again, and you wasted no time gulping for air. Your hands came to the wall. You were shaking as you stared at the animatronic. It looked as horrifying and expressionless as it always had, save for its damned human eyes. It tilted its head, too alive and too curious. You felt small, like a rodent backed into a corner, being batted at by the claws of a creature bigger and hungrier than it.

And then you were seized again. Again! You wanted to question it, to scream at it, to shove the absurdity of its actions in front of it, but you couldn’t. You could only struggle fruitlessly under its entertained, human-like eyes. Eyes that would haunt you until your death. Though, perhaps writhing wasn’t the only thing you could do.

You slowed your struggling, weakening your own grip as you attempted to pull it off of you. Despite your body screaming at you to fight for air, you closed your eyes and let your body slowly fall slack.

It released you, and you didn’t waste time breathing. You dove out from under its arms, crashing to the floor next to the gift boxes. You tried to get up to run, but it was fast . It was already on you and before you could even scream—

SLAM

There was a ringing. Your head throbbed with pain. Your vision skewed. You tried to speak, but your throat was still raw. You were turned around.

You saw three—five? No, three—of the rotted Bonnie. Its body sounded like something sticky getting peeled away under all the mechanical clicks. You tried to focus when it held something above its head.

It was the crowbar. It was going to kill you.

You hoped your best friend had a gentler end than this.

“ Hello? ”

The ringing slowed. A child’s laughter. The rotted Bonnie’s eyes flickered with light, struggling between sentience and programming. You knew if you stayed quiet it would have to leave, so you froze as still as you could manage.

You were right. It stood up, one foot after the next in monstrously metallic thumps, from its kneeling position over you. Then, it turned around and marched away.

You rolled onto your stomach, taking in quiet gulps of air. The floor was spinning, but it was beginning to stabilize. Not unlike the monster trying to kill you, you stomped one foot after the next to stand. You stumbled into a wall and slammed your eyes shut.

You needed to go. You needed to go. Go. Go. Go!

You stumbled through the attraction, much less quiet than you had been, but it was too difficult to focus on anything else other than reaching the office. You steadily gained proprioception and picked up speed, before you were running through the halls again. The floor started to level. The walls weren’t closing in on you anymore.

You were back at the office door even before you realized you passed the office window. The smell was abominable, but you didn’t care. You stumbled to the desk and slid back down to the floor. You felt your head. There was no blood. That was good...

A control panel was dropped into your hands. “You’re alive.” Michael took a sip of his soda cup, “You're welcome.”

You grabbed the trashcan and vomited.

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gurugirl · 3 months

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Guruuuuuuuuu it's meeeeeee 🍸 Tomorrow is the weekend and my brother is coming to town to visit and he wants me to entertain him but I'm exhausted so wish me luck! And I've been meaning to stop in and say hi but I've been so busy since I was promoted at my firm. Just everything has been a big whirlwind. But I love it.

Update ~ My ex (the one who I kept sleeping with after he broke up with me) is seeing someone else now! It's so funny too because the last time he tried to hook up with me apparently he was dating her and I almost gave him and invited him over too. I'm so glad I was too tired because when I found out he'd been seeing this chick (who I know by the way but that's a different story) I was like doing the timeline in my head and yeah... it's very possible I slept with him while they were dating but as far as I know they're not exclusive but for me that's an ick. I'm not casual like that. So I had to go get STD tested and that's when I decided to block him completely. I am a well educated, grown adult who is on her way to some very successful career and saving up to buy a house (on track for end of year) and I'm fucking around with some loser asshole still? So yeah... that's all in the past and I know last time I said it was over with us but this time it's for real 😅

How have you been?? How's school and Mexico and your adorable dog?

Also I just read the ex's dad Harry last night and I'm absolutely hooked already. I don't make it on tumblr often anymore unless I need to shut my brain off after a grueling day at work but for this one? Honey let me tell you how well written and absolutely gripping it is and it's only part 1. No one does that tension like you and this one is no different. So I'm just here to tell you that I will be reading this series and opening up Tumblr every week for this one because it's so good already. Not one paragraph was boring or out of place. That's such a pet peeve of mine when I'm really into a good story and there's a chunk that absolutely does nothing to move the plot forward or it's just for funsies but that takes me right out of the experience of reading when a writer starts to add too much just for bulk.

tootles! -🍸

OH MY GOSH! I've been wondering how you've been! Congrats on the promotion attorney girl!! Amazing! You are such an inspo! 🎉 Busy is good when you're doing something you love! And I hope you have an amazing time with your brother. How nice that he's coming to visit! I miss my brother like you can't even imagine so it's making me all teary eyed just thinking about it.

And I'm so glad you are officially done with the ex. What a weirdo trying to sleep with you while he was seeing someone else. LOL. Men just aren't always the smartest but you were right to get tested because you never know. Smart girl!

And things are good here! The weather is warming up so midday is quite warm! School is good! I took an accelerated communications class and just finished that one (8 week condensed class) and now I'm just waiting on grades to be posted and still have another class I'm taking currently but I think spring break is soon? Also my dog is so fun. He's kind of showing his age these days but he gets 3 good walks every day so he's not just relegated to using the bathroom in our backyard. The walks help with his mind and his body and it puts him in a good mood (me too lol). He has pups he likes to play with up the street but that wears him out and he limps back home after he plays with them because his hips are sort of aging so he usually winds up resting for hours after 20 minutes of playtime. Anyway I could go on about Barry... he's the love of my life (don't tell my SO lol).

So happy to hear your thoughts on ex-boyfriend's dad! Thank you hon! I'm so flattered 🥰 Love that you enjoyed it!!

xoxo

#ask #🍸 anon #ex-boyfriend's dad!harry

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jonathanbiers · 2 years

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longtime reader first time anon! in regards to the "steve doesn't know what a bisexual is" thing, I'm honestly going back and forth about whether ANYONE in a small town in the mid-eighties would be super familar with the concept — as a bisexual myself I am wondering. researching it hasn't come up with much, because while we know bisexuality was definitely developing as its own movement in queer urban spaces, how much of that permeated middle america?

hi, first of all i’m??? so flattered that you’ve read my stuff and stuck around to read more but anyway, getting to the subject of the discussion,

i mean i live in a small town but it’s not the 80s anymore and i was not alive then, so my perspective is still limited. but it’s definitely feasible to me that he’d be aware of the concept of bisexuality, whether or not he had the vocabulary for it.

but correct me if i’m wrong, we have evidence of him having an idea of the concept of bisexuality in the show when he reassures robin that vickie could still be interested, even if she had a boyfriend? and that smile at the end of vol 2 when he sees them interacting. that’s a “go best friend” smile if i’ve ever seen one, he sees her hitting it off. he knows she has a chance, even after they saw her kissing a guy

and if that’s not enough, david bowie was huge at the time and also known for liking both. this would definitely be talked about in a small town like that, even if it’s just to be derogatory(which lets be real it would) which makes it very hard for me to believe he’s never been exposed to the concept even if he’s repressed his own feelings, which is basically what you’re talking about in the third ask. i hope you don’t mind me condensing them all into one post btw jajdhjdnf

also speaking of your third ask, i’ve lived that too!! this discussion is not about me but i wanted to throw it in there. and my experience is obviously different, but. i spent a good chunk of my self discovery journey identifying as a lesbian when i was, in fact, a transmasc dealing with comphet all along. i repressed the fuck out of my attraction to guys even when i didn’t yet realize i was one. that’s a very very real thing. even while doing things that were (for me) a very obvious sign of attraction. also, if you’re a longtime enough reader to have been around before i abandoned the multi chapter steddie fic that i just haven’t deleted yet, that’s pretty much where i was going to go with that just for the record. him realizing he felt the attraction all along and just repressed it because of (he wouldn’t know the vocabulary but) comphet. not some weird “what do you mean, both?” robin handfeeding him the dictionary definition of bisexual thing that happens way to often in fics to even be funny anymore

which brings me to your second ask. who decided that robin “trips and stutters around pretty girls” buckley and eddie “super super senior dnd nerd plays his guitar so much he learns master of puppets in a couple of weeks” munson are the experts on queer history and would be the ones to explain to poor little dumb baby steve that he’s attracted to both like he’s not a big boy with more emotional intelligence and depth than A LOT of main male characters out there, and who can figure shit out his damn self? please. robin is…robin, we love her, but she’s not giving me “goes to gay bars in indianapolis” vibes. who’s taking her to these, anyway? she can’t drive. she’s underage. definitely not giving me “has a fake id” vibes, either. try and convince me robin “or rather my mouth moves faster than my brain” buckley could get past a club bouncer. and eddie, bless his heart(affectionate), whether you’re a virgin eddie truther or not, is not some sex god who knows everything about being gay and swoops in to share this privileged knowledge with steve. those fanfics, while a fun fantasy at first, are something i’m sick and tired of seeing at this point. and yet the damage is seemingly done, the fandom has just come to that consensus at this point.

#anonymous #i’m sorry i got carried away and rambled at you #please don’t be shy to talk to me thoooo #i love talking to y’all and (as evidenced here) i do not shut up

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eggbertith · 1 year

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Season 4 wasn't great. I've LOVED every other season but for this one the characters were off, the jokes fell flat (if I hear one more fart joke I stg) and the huge time skip wasn't great either.

The whole season feels like they could have condensed it down to 2 episodes but they decided to add a million characters and plot lines that didn't matter.

Idk. It looks like they overworked the batter and the fluffy pancake we were promised is now flatter than a witch's tit.

I mean, still technically a pancake. So I'm not mad, just disappointed.

disclaimer: i LOVE the dragon prince, i loved seasons 1-3 and i enjoyed season 4. here's the deal, season 4 is a fun season and i enjoyed watching it. i do think, however, that the writing got a mediocre a little too often for it to be worth the 3-year wait. if you disagree with me, i am more than open to hear thoughts and counterarguments. seriously. i think discussion is healthy and it's something i actually really enjoy because i like talking. also, i'm way too tired to have people yelling at me/to yell at other people with a different opinion than me...i am a college student and i am already dying so please, be respectful. i am not trying to actively insult anyone who liked season 4 and i am also not vehemently hating on the show [criticisim != hate] i'm more than happy for the people who enjoyed the season and i really do like to hear thoughts. with that out of the way, hello anon, here's a wall of unorganized text that attempts to convey my feelings overall

since i am an actual child, i laughed at the jokes but that's beside the point. i get where people are coming from when they say they were poorly timed and/or didn't land well

but on the topic of jokes, season 4 had me laughing at a lot of things i....shouldn't have been laughing at. and honestly, it makes me feel like an asshole lol but i'm sorry some of the more emotional or intense scenes are just really goofy with the way they were executed and yes, if someone wants me to, i can go in depth with this, but for the purpose of this ask (especially since it wasn't focused on the humor in the first place) i won't give my thoughts here

i'm going to be very blunt: tdp has kind of backed itself into a corner if there isn't a twist or some sort of major consequence for rayla leaving. if rayla leaves for 2 years and nothing comes from it other than relationship drama, that's a bit yikes. i'm not saying that everything should have been resolved this season, but the show doesn't even try to tell the audience that something bigger may be happening. if there IS a bigger consequence, the show doesn't properly hint at it/set it up, and THATS where the issue is. when it gives us nearly nothing to speculate off of, we have no idea where her character or the story is going. <- this is not a catalyst for mystery, it's frustrating because everyone (especially rayla) feels out of character and for what

also, this is a nitpick, but callum letting rayla go after viren in episode 9 was not earned.

anyways, the season had to reintroduce us to the characters that we haven't seen for 3 years, and it has to inform everyone about the 2-year time skip. the time skip, in my opinion, was not done well. time skips are used to grow up the characters and introduce new characters, environments, and potential plot points for the rest of the story that is being told. the dragon prince does not do this very well. yes, there are new characters, but they aren't even necessarily relevant for the rest of the story, so it feels like wasted time. the candle woman and the n'than dude show up and then drop off of the face of the earth never to be seen again. terry is fine, but i do think it's a bit odd to give claudia, someone who has gone off the deep end, a really goofy and lighthearted boyfriend (he's just there to keep her morality in check a little bit, i.e. giving rayla the coins). i think overall, a lot of things happen in season 4, but it feels like a very small portion of said things actually set up for the future.

i've been avoiding bringing this up, mostly because i'm lazy and i don't want to find exact quotes from the show, but i'll bite. the writing for seasons 1-3 felt authentic and natural. the writing in season 4 felt so on-the-nose, shallow, and almost preachy.

"i was impressed with your vision for using the dragon queen's visit as a catalyst for growing trust and peace across the continent"

"they might be at first. but it will change when they meet her"

^ ezran says this and yup, that's enough on that topic, no need to explore it further. i think the writing overall was just so lackluster and forced compared to previous seasons. again, i could elaborate on this but i've gone on for long enough in this post so if someone wants me to just ask...might take a really long time for me to respond though getting my thoughts in order takes forever.

#the dragon prince #onions #putting under the cut bc i know some people just want to see positivity and i get that

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bleachbleachbleach · 1 year

Text

2/6-12/23

I am so painfully tired, which has translated alternatingly into feelings of both rage and despair this week. It is going to be a long next four weeks.

Anyway, I’ve said before that I love Hitsugaya best when he is being as boring as possible, and this week I really got to luxuriate in that, because in this part of Hinamori’s chapter she is basically letting Hitsugaya talk at her about all of the things that annoyed him about the captain’s meeting just got back from, including:

Central 46’s emergency management strategy

wartime rush-graduated shinigami

the dangai

Mayuri taking about the dangai

Mayuri

Kensei

rice tithes

And what is more gloriously entertaining than thinking about ghost FEMA and uh idk ghost NAFTA? Well, thinking about ghost budget archives, obviously, which is what they spend the NEXT part of the scene doing. Hinamori is a Real One.

Something I’m working out now is how I want to describe the budget annotations. My vision for why these budget sheets are annoying (besides being written by some yahoo 10th captain emeritus from several hundred years ago) is that the language they’re written in is super old school, even by shinigami standards.

I’m basing the way they’re written off of kanbun, which is a way of annotating Classical Chinese, and back in the day was used for poetry translations but also reports, newspapers, etc. as a way of condensing writing. I’m trying not to get too in the weeds about that, because the point is creative verisimilitude, not historical accuracy; this is a GHOST BUDGET SHEET. I just want the shriveled old budgets to be written in a way that is frustratingly not the norm now, for misery’s sake. But I need to decide how I’ll describe that in a way that 1) is true to Hinamori’s POV, since she knows what she’s looking at (mostly) and doesn’t need to belabor the point, but 2) makes enough sense to the audience to not derail anything.

As far as verisimilitude goes, part of me is sitting here refuting my own budget sheet headcanon like "this idea doesn’t work because THEY DEFINITELY STILL WRITE GOTEI REPORTS LIKE THAT. The reports never modernized!" Because, really, why would they? The arguments I can think of in favor of my desires are 1) The SC is written in modern Japanese, 2) I don’t think you can T9 kanbun on a flip phone, Hitsugaya, and 3) they only have *six years* to learn how to be shinigami, how much time are they going to waste teaching these illiterate fucks how to read and write in TWO different forms? (Counterargument: Joe Shinigami has infinite time between grunt work and seated report-writing work to learn kanbun if he wants that sweet promotion.)

Bearing in mind that all this writing system talk is right before Hitsugaya and Hinamori talk about statistical modeling and the way research-based duty release works in the Gotei, so any description of *the history of writing systems in Soul Society* is not entering into this tabula rasa, and there’s already a bunch of off-hand, in-the-weeds Work Talk weighting the scale, LOL.

In any case, Hinamori and Hitsugaya are on the brink of running out of math to talk about, at which point they will have no choice but to talk about feelings. (As though all the math wasn’t also about feelings).

#stories for the sea

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eclaisse · 5 months

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2024 Week 1

I thought that instead of blogging every day, it might make more sense to blog every week? I used to try and keep a bullet journal when I was younger. The aesthetic of bullet journals / hobonichi is lovely, but honestly it was a very difficult habit for me to keep up in college. I think it was always too much work for me in general. Even now, I like to write, but I am a lot more motivated to type things out. It looks clean and works well for me, so I think I will stick to electronic records!! One day, maybe a journal or scrapbook like that would be fun to make. But I do love that I can do this and feel accomplished for getting some writing done.

Anyways, it was a lovely week!! Everyone was slacking off after returning to work since no one was actually ready to work yet. The directors and other coworkers are on vacation still so it's pretty empty back at the office, though it's also pretty chill. I got to catch up with everyone after our long break and it was nice. I was invited to lunch by two of my friends, but unfortunately had a training with a higher up so I couldn't go. But that's okay, another time.

To be honest I think I'm still recovering from so many events over the holidays- I did a lot of baking, driving around, and talking to people. I think I'm a bit tired from all the social interaction. As a kid I was always excited for and reenergized during breaks but now that I have to do everything myself, I see how much planning and energy goes into it :'D It's fun but a lot of work!!

On Sunday I went to badminton practice with my friends and it was a lot of fun. At the start of the practice I'm always a bit sluggish and miss the birdies when my friends smash them, but within a few minutes I feel energetic and can play decently. We got to play for 1.5 hours since there was no one booked after us, lucky!! I used to play on my community college's team and I missed playing. We only started playing together late last year, but I hope it becomes a regular event.

After practice we went to a cute Taiwanese café that served sandwiches, noodles, and milk tea. We all got sandwiches and two friends also ordered a bowl of noodles to share. It was such a cozy atmosphere in there- we chatted over sandwiches and reminisced about our childhoods for a bit.

Two of the friends are a couple and invited us to continue hanging out by going shopping with them. We went to TJ Maxx, Home Goods, and Costco together. There's something really fun about going into shops with friends and pointing out cute merchandise, cracking jokes about each other, and laughing over silly things. I did my groceries alongside them and bought a lot of new snacks to try!!

Unfortunately I didn't realize that one of them contains gelatin, and I had already eaten some. It's a strawberry and condensed milk dessert that surprisingly doesn't taste too sweet? It's light, airy, and refreshing!! I don't want to return it even though Costco allows that, since they would just discard it and that would be very wasteful. Thankfully since many of my friends love strawberries, I will be passing these around as treats. I feel like every quarter I get a snack that I love, but there is just too much of. So I end up eating some myself and then giving the rest away. But these snacks are cheap if you buy them in bulk, and it makes my friends happy to receive snacks, so I don't mind.

Not my picture, but this is what the packaging and dessert looks like. It's very cute!! Looking forward to sharing it with friends.

#2024 #Jan 2024 #weekly recap #Zari writes

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volleychumps · 3 years

Text

« Insecure S/O Reacting to a Confession 2

part 1 here

format: scenarios

genre: fluff

- includes: Iwaizumi, Tendou, and Matsukawa

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

Iwaizumi Hajime

The sun wasn’t helping his flared cheeks in any way.

“Stop interfering.”

“Stop stalling then.” Oikawa grins, rubbing his best friend’s shoulders as if he were about to enter a boxing ring. The dark haired ace rubs his eyes in irritation with one hand, ignoring the flare against his cheeks as Iwaizumi attempts to shake his childhood friend off. The sight of you kneeled down in the school garden, hair pinned back away from your face as you tended to the flowers, made the heat surge through Iwa’s cheeks even more.

“I’m not.”

“Really? Because every day you approach her creepily from some distance, and then disappear. C’mooon, I already owe Hiro like fifteen bucks-”

“You’re betting on this, shithead?”

“Nope.” The answer comes out a little too quickly as Oikawa dodges a second swat. “She’s so pretty I might have to approach her myself-”

“Not another word.” Iwa grits out, Oikawa slightly smirking at the tick in his jaw and the way his onyx eyes harden. “I just...don’t wanna mess this up.”

“There’s nothing to mess up until you confess. Ah, young love.” Oikawa sighs dreamily, Iwaizumi ignoring his dramatic friend’s swoon before making a decision. Today was the day.

You wipe sweat from your forehead, attempting to ignore the beating sun down on your face as you tried to hurry the process a long, ensuring the flowers were getting just enough water. The touch of an icy can of tea against your cheek startles you, almost making you drop the watering pot before you hold a hand up against the bright sun rays, tilting your head in confusion at the broad-shouldered man in front of you.

“Iwaizumi?” You smile in greeting as Iwaizumi shuffles his feet, breath catching in his throat at the sight. He was so screwed.

You laugh a bit awkwardly, the cold touch of the can beginning to numb. “Um, is this for me?”

“Yes.” He curses himself at how stern it comes out, but you gently take the can from his grasp, nodding in thanks. “I-I know you like this one.”

“You do?”

“No.” He didn’t want to sound creepy, yet somehow made it worse.

“Oh.”

Iwaizumi was ready to kick himself. He was hoping you would understand, the day you shyly maneuvered your way through Oikawa’s fanclub to get to him to offer him an ice cold drink was the reason he became so infatuated in the first place.

“Well, thanks for the tea-”

“I like you.”

This time, you do drop the watering pot, eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights as Iwa’s heart sinks at your reaction.

“I get it, alright?” You mumble, sadness swimming in your stomach as Iwaizumi fought the need to dart off. “You’re the handsome volleyball ace all the girls want, and they put you up to ask me out as a joke again. It’s getting old.”

Ah.

Iwaizumi sighs, knowing that the other girls preyed on you for your beauty and soft heart, finding ways to hurt you in the most immature ways possible.

“Oi.” His heart tightens at the look of sorrow on your face, making him click his tongue before reaching a hand out before he can stop himself, smudging his thumb along the streak of dirt on your cheek. You look up at him in a doe-like manner, and your wet eyes are enough to make the ace want to hurt anyone who ever made you feel this way.

“I’m not kidding.”

“Iwa-”

“Hajime.” He cuts you off, hiding a smirk when he feels the heat rush to your cheeks. “You can call me Hajime. Only you.”

“Hajime.” you try it out, clapping your hand over your mouth once in shyness as Iwaizumi smiles a genuine grin, elated when you shy away into his touch.

“Then...please take care of me.” You manage, condensation running down to your other hand holding the can as Iwaizumi slips it out of your grasp, taking a heavy sip of it before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I finished this one. Can I take you to a cafe?”

“I’d love that.” You slip your gardening gloves off, Iwa slipping his hand into yours casually as you trail behind him, smiling when his grip tightens ever so slightly.

Surprisingly, the sun suddenly didn’t feel too hot today.

Tendou Satori

“Today’s the day fellas!”

“Oh, is it?” Shirabu mocks his surprise. “It’s not like you put ‘ask y/n’ out in huge block letters on our team calendar or anything.”

“Bingo!” Tendou points finger guns at his teammate as Semi shrugs at a disgruntled Shirabu. “I’m about to get myself a Miss Tendou Satori-”

“That’s not how that works-”

“Hush, Ushijima. Your logic won’t ruin my day today.” Tendou bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for practice to let out as he tugs his last shoe on, his other teammates still in the process of changing.

“Is she waiting for you?” Semi tugs his shirt overhead as Tendou hums happily in answer, Shirabu snarkily making a remark from the other side of the locker room.

“She’s out of your league.”

“I know she is! Which is why I’m going to treat her like the queen she is, since I myself am but a lowly peasant beneath her-” Tendou perks up at the time. “Gotta go, I’ll text you the outcome boys.”

“Please don’t.”

“Tendou-senpai-” But the redhead had already darted through the door as Ushijima glances at his worried kouhai, tilting his head in question.

“What, Goshiki?”

“Isn’t Y/N L/N the one who had that mean prank pulled on her last year?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you rocked on the balls of your feet, fidgeting with the ends of your skirt as you wait for the rambunctious redhead on the volleyball team. No way a cute guy like him was actually-

“Did I make ya wait long?” A pair of sneakers appear in your view, making you lift your head as Tendou Satori casts you a wide grin, school shoes hanging in his other hand. You tilt your head, wondering if he rushed here.

“Did you need something from me, senpai?” You blink, swinging your legs lightly on the bench you were sitting on, fearing the worst. Tendou clears his throat, suddenly feeling the nervousness he had been outrunning catch up to him. He can’t mess this up. Ever since you had adorably asked him to reach something for you at the snack shop for the school, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind. He made sure to wait around during the same time during lunch hour, your usual snack already in hand and plucked off the highest shelf.

“Go out with me.”

You flinch. There it was.

His smile fades slowly with every beat of silence that soaks in the atmosphere between the two of you, and you swallow back a sob.

“How much are they giving you to do this?”

Tendou’s shoes hit the floor, his eyes blinking rapidly in confusion as you refuse to meet his questioning gaze.

“What?”

“I um, can help you if you want. Go out with you for a few days so they really believe-”

“Hey, hey!” Tendou’s arms begin to flail around as he shakes his head no. “I mean it Y/N, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. I really wanna date you for real-”

“You do?”

Tendou’s chest felt heavier at the crack in your voice and insecurity swirling in your eyes, and he nods his head, kneeling in front of you carefully before asking to take your hands with his eyes.

“I 100% do. You can strip me of my honor if I’m lying.”

This makes you crack a smile, making Tendou breathe out a sigh of relief through his nose. He thumps his forehead against yours, making your eyes glint in a way they haven’t in awhile.

“Can this lowly senpai please take you out on a date this weekend?”

“No, my lowly senpai cannot.” You say, turning your palms over so he can hold them properly. Tendou quirks an eyebrow, but he’s slightly smirking as you offer a shy smile.

“But my boyfriend can.”

Matsukawa Issei

“You’re staring again, ya creep.”

“I think the term you’re looking for is skillful admiring-”

“Just ask her out.” Hanamaki yawns, getting comfy on his best friend’s desk as Matsukawa leans into his palm, eyeing the way you pout when your friends steal your snacks. So cute. “What’s the worst she’s gonna do, say no?”

“Yes.” Matsukawa sighs, hanging his head slightly as Hanamaki arches a brow, crossing his arms in pure amusement.

“Wow, Matsukawa Issei hung up over a girl?”

“Who the hell is hung up-”

Hanamaki arches a brow when his friend visibly tenses up, looking over only to smirk when he sees another boy in class shyly offer up his pocky to you, you gladly accepting and smiling widely in thanks. Issei rests his head on the desk, stubbornly looking out the window as Hanamaki withholds a laugh over the hold you have over your classmate.

“Oh just ask her out.” Hanamaki uncaps his drink. “You’re so into her dude, it’s making me sick.”

Issei shifts in his seat. Maybe his adoration for you wouldn’t have begun if it hadn’t been for the way your much shorter legs pumped to catch up to his figure, who had pretty much reached his home.

“Matsukawa-san!” You had gasped for breath, the messy-haired boy guiltily slipping his headphones off at how tired you seemed. Before he could profusely apologize, you shoved his notes in his hand, bright hue to his cheeks at the act of kindness.

“Um, you left this in the library!” you manage out, Matsukawa seeming to freeze in the moment. “I added some notes in there, I hope you don’t mind. It seemed kinda empty-”

“You wrote notes for me?” He finds his voice again, cursing himself at that being the first thing that came out.

“I was bored during free time anyways.” You scratched the back of your head before turning on your heel again. “Anyways, bye!”

And then you darted off again as Matsukawa Issei stayed still in his spot, wondering just why the hell his heart was beating at the pace it was going, colorful notes hanging from his grasp.

“I’m gonna do it.” Hanamaki almost falls off the desk at Matsukawa’s revelation and the way he suddenly stood up. “I could kiss you right now, Makki.”

“I’m praying to god, please don’t.”

You lean against the shoe lockers, humming to yourself as you wonder just what your classmate would need from you, figuring he wanted to properly thank you for the notes. You would accept it and go, knowing that Matsukawa Issei was favored among the girls-

“You’re here.”

“This.” You smile softly, holding up a folded note between your fingers as Matsukawa shoves his hand in his slack pockets, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “This made it hard for me not to be, you know?”

You eye him carefully, stomach sinking at the familiar situation in front of you.

“You might have already guessed,” Issei breathes, trying to steady the pounding in his ears. “Or Makki might have already told you because he’s a shithead like that-”

You tilt your head.

“-but I’ve got this killer crush on you. And if you could help me out, I would thoroughly appreciate it.” It comes out business-like, and you almost laugh if it hadn’t been for the weight in your throat.

“Help you out how?” He doesn’t notice the crack in your voice as he pulls his sleeves up to his forearms, swallowing tightly.

“I think a date would begin to ease the pain.”

You really do laugh this time, but it’s not the kind of laugh of amusement. It’s forced, awkward, and makes Issei falter in his smile and movements.

“Do they ever get bored?”

All playfulness drains from the middle blocker’s face as his tone hardens. “What are you talking about?”

“Sure, get the hot guy from the volleyball team to try and ask Y/N out, are you getting it on video?”

“Y/N-”

“I’ve gotta go.” you try to step away, eyes widening when he stops you with his much bigger frame. His lidded eyes widen at the tears prodding the corner of your eyes, carefully lifting a hand to swipe at them before looking at you seriously.

“You think I’m hot?”

You can’t withhold the giggle that escpaes you, sniffling slightly as Matsukawa smiles gently, wrapping his arm around you to touch the small of your back. You yelp a little when you find yourself crushed against his chest, your upper back touching the lockers.

“I don’t know what the hell happened to you in the past, but-” you look up at the handsome tall boy you had hand-written notes for, hoping your crush on him wasn’t too noticeable. “I can tell you right now that you’re really fuckin’ pretty, and I want to brag to my friends about how hot my girlfriend is-”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You cup his cheek in question as his grin widens.

“Make me your boyfriend and I’ll show you.” He winks, and you raise both eyebrows in amusement before practically speaking against his lips.

“I think we can arrange that.”

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

General Taglist: @ebiharachan @purplefangirl2001 @ssuna @saffyspirals @baes-x @nabisonyeo94 @celestialuffy @uh-what-day-is-it-again @genesisrose74 @takemetovalhalla @thathoneybee3 @animebae100 @jesssobs @tsukkikeiibabe

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #Iwaizumi Hajime #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu tendou #TENDOU SATORI #tendou x reader #haikyuu matsukawa #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu!! x y/n #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu reads

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tartglias · 3 years

Text

Xiao, Zhongli and Venti with an immortal s/o

“Sooo 👀 can i request so some fluff hc for venti, xiao and zhongli with an immortal s/o?”

thank you so much for requesting!! this is my first time writing for more than one character at a time so it was a challenge lol thank you sm!!

Xiao

Xiao never understood the importance of time. Days, months, even years feel like nothing when you’re immortal. What a funny thing that is, immortality. He knows normal humans would do anything for it, and he despises them for that. Nothing so great came free, he knew that well. He was freed from tortures, only to get tormented by karma. He could still hear the voices and screams calling for help from tortured souls, these still haunt him daily. But the worst moments come when he sees that figure, that person who he once considered close. So close he could use the human word “soulmate”, if he believed in those, to describe who that person meant to him.

Many centuries back he met you, such a gentle person who got to break down his hard walls. A smile, a touch, a kiss. That’s all it took. So many meaningless years, and he never once encountered a person as kind yet strong like you. Someone who made the daily nightmares cease, with a simple smile and brush of fingers.

He remembers your last words like it was the day before. You were on top of one of the tall stones in Huaguang Stone Forest, Xiao laying his head on your lap and you placing small qingxin flowers on his hair. He wouldn’t allow anyone do that to him ever, but in the end, you were you. And you were different.

“Xiao” you called, once you were done placing the flowers. He opened his eyes and muttered a “hm?” in response. “I have to leave soon. Mondstadt calls me”

He sat up.

“What do you mean?”

“By tomorrow morning, I’ll be on my way back to Mondstadt” you said, quietly standing up.

He stood up too.

“When will I see you again?” he asked, now not being able to look at you.

“I don’t know” you said, reaching out for his hand and taking it. You placed a soft kiss on his knuckles, and he felt himself calm down at the gesture for a moment.

“I meant it when I said I’ll love you forever, Xiao” you said, finally locking eyes with him. You had teary eyes, he dreaded to see you like that. If it were up to him, he would swallow every bit of pain in your body and soul, just to see you smile.

And with that, you disappeared. As quickly as you broke down his walls, you disappeared just as quick the next day. Days, months and years became even more meaningless, but somehow he felt them longer. He missed you every day, he whispered to the moon every night, wishing that some archon would hear and bring you back to him. He knew you were like him, but he never heard from you again. Were you able to finally cross to the other side? He tried to erase those thoughts from his mind.

He later found himself in that very same stone, the one in which he last saw you. New Qingxin flowers blossomed, and they reminded him of you. He sat down, staring at the horizon. But then, he felt a strange swift of wind, and a presence behind him. He quickly stood up, ready to put his mask on and kill whoever dared to interrupt his solitude. But he didn’t. The mask in his hand dropped to the floor, next to the flowers.

“I’m back” you said, with a shy smile.

“You’re back” he said, more to himself than to you. Were you really there?

His question was soon answered, once you stepped closer and pulled him in a hug. He found himself wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as he could, while trying to hold back his tears.

“I’m sorry I took so long, my beloved” you said as you locked your eyes with his. You grabbed his hand and held it, but you never once let go of the hug.

“I’m here to stay now” you whispered.

Zhongli

“You need to stop playing with people’s hearts” Zhongli said, as he sipped on his tea and looked at you questioningly. You rolled your eyes in response and put your focus back on your potion. A few petals from the most exotic flower in Teyvat, a little bit of juice made from vines and a teaspoon of slime condensate.

“Sometimes mortals need a little push in the right direction” You said, finishing up the mix and transferring it to a small bottle made of glass. “Plus, we’ve been here for centuries, I’m bored and I need a hobby”

“I don’t think that messing with human’s love lives can be considered a hobby. I don’t think it’s morally correct” he said.

“You’re very dramatic. I can feel the true desires of every being that touches the soil in Teyvat, and if I sense that the desire is mutual, I simply work my magic” You said, sitting back on your chair next to the tall man.

“Can’t you let them figure it out by themselves?” He asked.

“That’s no fun Zhongli” You said, finishing up the sweet perfume-potion you were creating.

You and Zhongli have been friends for centuries. You met when you moved to Liyue as the representative of the Dendro Archon, someone you really looked up to. Zhongli was kind enough to make you feel at home, and soon became friends with the Geo Archon. Though you must admit, you always wished it was something more.

Maybe that’s why you picked up this “hobby” of yours. Unrequited love is something painful and mortals only live a short life, you believe they should live it fully, if possible.

“Are you alright?” Zhongli asked, interrupting your thoughts with a concerned look on his face. You didn’t realize you had a sad look on yours.

“Oh? Yeah of course” You said, quickly brushing it off and proceeding decorating the small glass bottle.

“Y/n-“ he started, placing a hand on top of yours in order to get your attention. “I’ve known you for a long time. I know when something is wrong”

It was funny. He knew you like the back of his hand, he knew how to read you since the first time he laid his eyes on you. Yet he never found out how you truly felt about him, how your heart made like a million flips whenever he did something as simple as hold your hand, or brush a hair away from your face. All these little things and gestures, have been making you swoon over your closest friend for years, centuries even.

“Time and love are strange concepts, aren’t they?” You asked, looking straight at him. Here goes nothing, you thought.

“I believe those are rather simple concepts”

“You can spend a lifetime with someone, know every habit and expression but you don’t know how they truly feel about you” You said staring at him, searching for any hint that indicated he knew what you were talking about. But you saw nothing. Who were you kidding? He’s just your friend, has been for a long time.

You let out a defeated laugh, standing up and letting go of his hand. “Forgive me, I don’t really know what i’m saying” you said, grabbing the potion and starting to leave. But you felt his hand on your wrist, stopping your movements.

“You said you felt the desires of every being that stepped foot on Teyvat’s soil, am I right?” he asked, looking at you. You nodded. “Does it work on me?”

“You wanted to get close to me, as a friend”

“My apologies my dearest y/n, but I think your blessing is wrong” he said, standing up and holding your hand once again. “I did want to get closer to you as a friend at first, but not any longer. I’ve been observing mortals for a while as well, on my daily walks through Liyue Harbor, and I think I finally understood my feelings”

You were sure that if Zhongli listened close enough, he would hear the fast beating of your heart.

“I’ve been waiting for you to use your love potion on me, my dear y/n. I’m sure it wouldn’t have worked anyways since I believe it would take a lot of effort to make an effective potion that could work on me. But it would have given me the excuse to tell you how I really feel” he said.

“How do you feel then?” you asked him, looking up at the tall man.

“I think I’m very lucky to have you by my side, and it makes me want to travel to the Dendro nation and personally thank the Archon for assigning you to Liyue. I also want you to still be by my side for the centuries to come, if you’re okay with that” he said, lowering his voice by the end.

You acted before you could process your thoughts. You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his cheek gently, never letting go of his hand. He liked you, he felt the same way about you. It was real.

“I’m okay with that” you replied.

Venti

It was almost noon, almost an hour after the original time you accorded with Venti to meet. You planned a picnic date by the big tree near the statue of the Seven, your favorite spot. The same spot which later, became Venti’s favorite spot as well.

He wasn’t a person who would jump straight to conclusions. You were late. Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you couldn’t find the guitar you promised to bring so you could play a duet. Being late doesn’t mean something bad happened, right?”

He decided to wait a few more moments, but once the sun set, he had enough. He went out to try and find you. He went to your house, but noticed the door was locked and no one was inside. “They left” he thought.

He slowly but surely started to get desperate. Where were you? Were you hurt? Did you get lost somehow? He went to Angel’s Share, and not even Master Diluc had seen you. If Venti wasn’t in such a panicked state, he would have noticed the rare concerned and worried look Diluc had on his face.

If any traveler walked by literally any road in Mondstadt, they would soon encounter a big rush of wind. Venti went from here to there as fast as he could, trying to find you.

He soon enough found you in Stormbearer Mountains, fighting hilichurls and two pyro mages. You looked tired, sweat covering your body and your clothes were dirty. It was obvious that this has been going on for a while. You gripped your sword as hard as you could, and kept fighting. Why didn’t you call for him? With no exception, Venti tells you daily to call for him if you ever encounter a problem. It’s not that he doesn’t think you’re strong, oh no, he believed you were the strongest mortal in Teyvat. But in the end, to him you were still a mortal. Fragile and over-sensitive. He often told you to call his name, that the wind will carry it and he will appear there to help you out. So why didn’t you?

“y/n!” he screamed, once he laid his eyes on you. You turned around and saw a rush on wind, and felt his presence. What you didn’t feel though, was the pyro attack coming from one of the mages. The mage summoned three pyro artifacts that surrounded you, and burnt you. You felt your energy slip away, your head dizzy and your body burning. Then, you felt the cold wind, Venti quickly finishing off the mages and the remaining hilichurls.

Venti thought it was over. You were kneeled down, burnt skin, gasping for air. It was over, you were going to die. He felt his eyes water and fear running through his veins. He wrapped his arms around you, making you lean on his chest.

“Don’t leave me” he begged. “please”

“My dear, I don’t think I can” you said, letting out a short laugh.

“Please stay strong, I think I can carry you to the cathedral but you need to hold very still so-“ he started saying, now fully crying but you interrupted him by putting a hand on his cheek and wiping his tears with your thumb.

“I’m serious, I don’t think I can leave anyways. Venti, I literally can’t die.” you said, with a laugh and slowly standing up.

“You... you’re immortal?” he asked, looking up at you, not being able to leave the floor.

You nodded. “I thought you knew”

“I hate you” he said, standing up and wiping away his tears. “I do”

“No you don’t. But you’re cute though!” you said, grabbing his face and kissing the tip of his nose. “I’m very sorry I’m late though, my commission took longer than I thought but let me compensate you with dinner and a bottle of wine”

“But you’re still burnt?” he asked you, concern still in his face.

“Oh don’t worry about that, it will rip out when I start walking. I have healthy skin underneath” you said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Why do I feel like this is not your first time getting so hurt?” he asked letting out a soft chuckle, suddenly feeling lighter now that he knows you’re okay and will probably be okay for a long long while.

“Eh, been there done that a few times” you simply said, taking his hand and walking back to the city of Mondstadt.

#xiao x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #xiao imagines #xiao scenarios #venti imagines #venti scenarios #xiao headcanons #venti headcanons #zhongli scenarios #zhongli headcanons #zhongli imagines

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sinner-as-saint · 3 years

Text

The Unseen.

Hades!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: Your father is forcing a profitable marriage proposal upon you. Unwilling to endure such a thing, you run away from home and deep into some unknown woods. Naturally, your father sends his people to find you and bring you home, but this causes you to run deeper into the woods to a point where it feels like you’re not even in the same world anymore. Though fatigued; mentally, emotionally and physically, you manage to find shelter. You stumble upon a mysterious, handsome stranger. The God of the Underworld is baffled upon seeing you because it has been millennia since a mortal entered his dark, forlorn kingdom. And it’s been even longer since he felt something for someone…

Themes: hades!bucky, fluff, angst, smut,

You staggered through the woods.

Holding on to whatever you could find to help you keep your balance, and not fall flat on your face. You had been on the run for days now; running from your tyrant father and his people, running from a marriage proposal which was being forced upon you, running from the only place you called home. You wondered, was it really home?

You were currently deep into the woods. Famished, dehydrated, sleep deprived, your body covered in small cuts, bruises, insect bites and scratches. Your clothes were soiled. You could barely hold yourself up, but you had to get as far away as possible.

This part of the woods was so dense that the sunlight barely got through. There was more fog around you than sunlight. Actually, you could no longer tell what time it was. Perhaps it was not daytime.

Your throat burned, your tears had dried, your stomach rumbled in hunger; you were miserable. Your heart hurt at the thought of your mother; you had to leave her behind as well. You missed her, terribly.

You walked on, and a while later you felt the ground beneath your feet get more soft and damp. Your senses were alert. There must be a water body close by, you thought. You rushed forward, and let out a raspy sigh of relief when you saw the cool, slow-moving river which snaked around the large trees. You could just tell by the sight of it that it’s water must be ice cold. The thick fog condensed and danced above it. It looked mystical. Too good to be true.

You rushed to the river, kneeling by the side of it and picking up handfuls of water and drinking to satiate your thirst. You cleaned yourself as best you could - getting rid of all the dirt and muck from your face, and limbs and clothes.

You felt at ease for the first time in the past days. You got up and sat back down at the river bank for a while, feeling light and almost comfortable even though you were all alone inside a dense and cold, and dark forest. You chuckled at how much safer you felt here compared to back at your father’s house.

A minute later, you tensed up when you heard distant animal sounds. You panicked and took off running; deeper into the woods. You found yourself running alongside the river. You didn’t have a plan, you didn’t know where you were headed, but you knew you had to keep going. You couldn’t have your father finding you again and dragging you back home to marry whoever he chose for you just so he could profit off of it and expand his businesses; you refused to be a pawn in his games

You ran, stumbled, fell and stood up again. For hours. And just when you felt like you were about to pass out from fatigue again, you noticed a gate in front of you. It looked rusty and old, with dead vine all over it, surrounded in fog. You couldn’t see past it but something told you that once you’d get past it, everything would be alright.

So you did. You pushed open the gate and stepped into what seemed to be a poorly kept, dying garden. Though disorganized, and unkept; it felt almost familiar. It felt like coming home. You looked further and saw what seemed like an abandoned, dark manor, almost as grand as a castle. The whole thing looked like an old, forgotten private property.

“Help…” you called out with the little energy you had left. You doubted anyone lived here, but you called out anyways, just in case. “Help!” you called out again, falling to your knees on the rough ground.

And right before passing out, you heard something getting closer and closer. It sounded like it was galloping… several of them. Horses? In here?

Your eyes rolled back as you could no longer hold yourself up. You saw something approach you. Your blurry vision picked up on a tall, dark figure approaching. Whatever that was, it caught you right before your body fell to the ground.

It was a man. Even in your insensible state, you could feel the dominant, strong, virile aura surrounding him.

His low voice was the last thing you heard before you gave in to the darkness, “...I’ve got you, my love. You’re home now...”

---

The god stood at the entry of the spacious bedroom, in the middle of which was a large bed, upon which you laid; comfortable, but still unconscious.

Hands stuffed in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe, he contemplated. Everything. He doesn’t remember the last time he had something so beautiful, and alive, inside the walls of his dark and dangerous kingdom.

He wondered where you come from. Who were you running from? Why did you cry for help? How did you find the Underworld? The moment he saw you first entering his kingdom, he thought that you might be a lost, wandering soul. But then when his hands touched you, he felt your warmth and realized that you were very much alive.

If you had made it through the entire woods to get here then you must be stronger and more courageous than you look, he thought.

He stepped closer so he could hear your soft breaths. So full of life… he thought. Whatever it was that you were running from, he made a decision to protect you from it. He felt the urge to wrap his arms around you and shelter you, keep you safe forever. Why so? He didn’t know. He had never been so attached to mortals before. He barely even met any of them.

But you… you walked right into his kingdom, and now you were making him feel things he had never felt before.

The god had always been alone. He never quite had company, and he stayed as far away as possible from his dysfunctional family. So having you here was new, but also something he didn’t know he needed so badly.

“Who are you, pretty human?” he whispered as he lovingly caressed your cheek while you slept. He had healed all your cuts and bruises the moment he picked you up in his arms, and placed you in his chariot. Now he was just waiting for you to wake up so he could talk to you.

He couldn’t wait to meet you.

---

You woke up to loud, warm puffs of air fanning your face. You peeled your eyes open, expecting a headache but there wasn’t one, what you did find though was a fairly large, mean and dangerous looking three-headed dog with shiny black fur standing beside you, on the bed, looking down at you with tongues hanging out of each of its mouths and wagging its tail so hard that its body moved side to side along with it in excitement.

Your eyes widened even in the slightly hazy headspace, you almost took off running again but your body refused to get up from the comfy bed and then you saw the playful look in all three pairs of eyes and you immediately calmed down.

“Hello there...” You whispered as you squinted and reached out to pet it. You gave it soft scratches behind the ears and under the chins and it immediately tackled you with wet kisses. You squealed and chuckled as you sat up, trying to escape the adorable monster.

Maybe you had died? You thought to yourself as you kept petting the dog once it calmed down. Perhaps you were in some sort of after life, hallucinating about a three-headed while wearing a very vintage-y black gown with long, puffy sleeves; and sat in the middle of the softest bed ever inside what seemed to be a chamber fit for a Queen.

“Am I dead?” You asked the three-headed animal. It didn’t answer, obviously so you tried to dig your memory to find something which would explain how you ended up where you are right now. All three heads laid on your lap, as you lazily pet them while thinking; you remembered running… deep, deep into the forest… you remember being tired, so tired you felt like you were about to pass out… wait you did pass out! In the garden. The dark garden, with the horses and the tall man.

You gasped as you heard a voice, not far from you, answering your previously asked question. “No you’re not. Surprisingly.”

Upon hearing the voice, the dog got up from the bed and immediately ran to the man who had just spoken. You got up from the bed too confused and nervous, standing and watching him cautiously as you took in the man’s appearance. Your heart raced the more he stared into your eyes with his deep, stormy ocean blue ones.

He could easily be classified as one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Tall, dark and dangerous; dark hair, dark suit, dark shoes, dark rings on his fingers. He looked like dominance and power personified. A rugged, intimidating alpha male with sophisticated charm. Icy eyes with a fiery look in them.

He looked like a god.

When you finally got over the beautiful man, you realized what he had just said. “What do you mean, surprisingly?” you were aware that this was the same man who had answered to your cry for help earlier so you were trying your best to be polite.

The sound of your voice made his cold, frozen heart race. “You’re not dead. Just in the realm of it.” He spoke, confusing you even more. “You’re in the Underworld. My Kingdom.”

You frowned, thinking hard on what he had just said. Wait a minute… you looked down and saw the three-headed dog sitting obediently at his feet, very much well-behaved. You looked back up at the handsome stranger and stuttered while getting your words out. “You can’t… you can’t be real.” This wasn’t a dream?

He flashed you a lovely smile. “Really? Why not?”

You looked around, panicking again. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. “Because you’re a myth. You… you don’t exist. You’re not supposed to.”

He almost chuckled. “And yet, here I am. Forgotten by most mortals, yes. But still very much real.” He took small steps forward as he spoke. You found his voice to be calming, soothing.

“Hades?” you couldn’t believe it. You had heard stories about him at school, read about him in books but never in a million years would you have even for a moment considered that he could be real.

“The one and only.” He answered, looking down at his feet to find his beloved dog looking up at him. “You’ve met Cerberus already.”

Hades. God of the Underworld. That sitting at his feet was the Guardian, the ultimate Hellhound. How can this be real life? Anyone else would’ve freaked out upon finding all this out, but you remained surprisingly calm. “You look… I mean, aren’t you supposed to be… you know-,”

He finished your sentence with an amused look on his face. “Bearded? Crowned? Carrying a pitchfork? Riding in a chariot?”

You nodded.

“Well, you mortals aren’t the only ones who evolve every now and then. Us gods, although more or less forgotten, have to keep up as well, don’t we?”

You smiled faintly but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

You were still a little anxious, and you fidgeted with your fingers. He noticed and walked up to you. Without a word said, he reached out and gently held both your hands in his large ones. He spoke up again, “I know you’re a little nervous. I expect you to be, given the circumstances but I assure you, you’re safe here.” He said, softly.

You looked deep into his icy, sharp eyes which despite their intensity managed to provide you with a sense of comfort; effortlessly. Who would’ve known that the God of the Underworld could be so gentle?

“Thank you for helping me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it alright given he was so close to you. He squeezed your hands a little, as if to say ‘You’re welcome.’ Your hands fit in his perfectly, you noticed. He stood just a feet away from you and you could feel the power radiating off of him.

He smiled gently. “If I may ask, how did you end up so deep into the woods that you stumbled upon my Kingdom? What are you running from?” He wanted to figure this out since the moment he saw you.

“My father.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why is that?”

“He wanted to marry me off to a business associate's son so he can profit off the alliance and expand his own businesses. I refused, repeatedly. But then I found out that he was planning to forcefully fly me out somewhere, to marry the same guy. So I took off. I ran from home, and didn't tell anyone where I was going.” You exhaled shakily. “And now I’m here.”

He nodded, slowly and calmly as he hid his utter disgust at the mention of you almost becoming someone else’s wife.

He noticed how you started tearing up while speaking of your cruel father, so he simply pulled you closer and tucked your head under his chin while running a soothing hand down your back. His arms wrapped around you in a safe embrace. You felt the cool material of his suit against your flushed face as he held you close. He smelt amazing. You wrapped your own arms around him, feeling his taut body beneath the material of his suit.

You hadn’t been hugged in a long time, so you started tearing up even more, until you began letting out little sobs. He tightened his grip around you, pressing you against his muscular torso. “Shh, my angel. It’s alright. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

You held back a sob, your voice cracking as you spoke, “But if… if he finds me, he will…”

The god pulled away a little, his hand reaching up to gently cup your face and tilt it back so he could look into your teary eyes. “He won’t find you here. I will keep you safe, don’t worry.” He wiped the fresh tears which escaped your eyes.

You were once again lost in his eyes, just now noticing the flares of grey in them. You were both caught in the moment, when you heard a low whine. It was the adorable monster who had managed to get in between your bodies. You looked down and cracked a little smile.

“Of course, Cerberus will keep you safe too.”

---

You and the god had quite a long conversation leading up to dinner. A conversation often interrupted by a certain three-headed dog’s constant need for attention from either one of you.

You learnt a lot about the one whose Kingdom you were in. You found out that he’s been here forever. Despite being dark, cold and barren you could tell he loved his realm more than anything.

You had to ask him about Persephone and he had you surprised when he told you that unfortunately their relationship didn’t last long and that she left him for good shortly after they got married.

You also found out that those closest to him call him ‘Bucky.’ And that his one true friend has always been the hell-hound and guardian of the Underworld, who also was currently asleep at your feet.

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” you asked, watching him from across the grand dinner table.

He took a sip of his wine, never breaking eye contact with you. “Not anymore.” he answered and you melted.

Over dinner, you spoke some more. Then he noticed you got all quiet. Damn it, he cursed. This was the moment he had been dreading all day.

“You miss your home.” He wasn’t asking, simply stating. He noticed how you pushed your food around on your plate. You weren’t as curious to know about his kingdom anymore, you weren’t chatty; just quiet all of a sudden. He missed the sound of your voice.

Home… “Not home, no. Just my mother. Sometimes I feel like she’s the only parent who’s ever truly loved me.”

He could feel the pain in your voice. But some of the rules of the Underworld were such that even he couldn’t bend them. “You know I cannot let you leave.”

You had that bit figured out the moment you found out who he was. “I know.”

He was surprised by how calm you were. “You… don’t ardently wish to go back home?”

You looked up from your plate and at his handsome face. “Going home would mean that I’d have to face my father. Now that I’ve been gone for so long, upon seeing me he’d either obliterate me or drag me down the aisle and marry me off against my will. I prefer none of those things. As for my mom, I do miss her but she’ll survive. She’s a strong woman.”

The god listened, leaning back in his seat; very much at ease in your company. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you want?”

You cracked a little smile. Or perhaps it was a smirk. You mimicked his body language, leaning back in your seat as well. You twirled the wine around in your glass. “For now, I want to be away from my family. I feel safe here. I don’t want to leave.”

He found himself wanting that as well.

---

You woke up the next morning to a sight which made you chuckle. No, it wasn’t an overly excited Cerberus. It was breakfast, along with a generous serving of pomegranates.

You ate it all up. Then set out to find the god after you got dressed and ready for the day. Somehow, everything one could need could be found in the large closets found in the room you slept in. You had only been here for a little while but you settled in just right.

You walked along a shadowy corridor. Bucky had given you a tour yesterday, hence you knew that this path led to the throne room. And that’s where he was; manspreading on his throne, wine glass in one of his hands while the other lazily stroked his beloved three-headed guardian; who sat by the feet of his master and wagged his tail as soon as you came in sight.

“Your Majesty.” You spoke, walking further into the room and stopping at the stairs which led to his throne.

He smiled as he watched you standing there, dressed in a dark grey dress. Similar to the one you wore yesterday, just a different color. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You looked down at the dress, smoothing the soft fabric down as you spoke. “Also thank you for breakfast.”

He caught the smirk you had on your face. He knew the reason behind it. “I assure you I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

You took the liberty of walking up the stairs which led to his throne. “I didn’t say anything.” You whispered with a smirk and reached down to greet Cerberus. “So what do you do all day?”

He took a sip of his wine, watching you as you knelt to the ground beside him and gave the dog endless pets. “I’m a god.” He sounded cocky. “That’s plenty of work already.”

When you looked up at him and smirked, he could’ve sworn he felt tingles dance down his spine. There you were, a beautiful woman happily sharing space with him inside his dark kingdom like it was no big deal, with no intention of leaving anytime soon because you said it yourself that being here made you feel safe.

The more he looked at you, the more he saw the light radiating off you. The light he so desperately needed. The light which balanced out the darkness he carried with him. The light which showed him glimpses of possible futures with you, if you’d be willing. The god was content in your company. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt the need to protect something so fiercely.

“Come with me.” He stood up and set his glass aside, holding his hand out for you to take.

You took it and he helped you up. “Where are we going?” you asked, as he led you down the stairs and into the corridor again.

“There’s so much for you to see. My kingdom isn’t just full of darkness and death. There’s beauty here too, of course, none quite like your own but close.” He spoke as he led you somewhere, holding your hand carefully in his as though it were made of glass and would shatter if he let it go.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, pretending as if it didn’t make you all flustered. “Is it now?”

The god led you all the way to the place he was most fond of in his entire kingdom, other than his beloved throne. It was a vast garden, fit to be the backyard of a castle. There were more kinds of plants and flowers than you could count. Cobblestone walkways leading to what seemed to be a pond in the middle, surrounded by stones and moss.

The dark red roses caught your attention rather quickly. You reached out to touch the soft petals and you felt Bucky’s presence behind you. He was so close that you could feel his warm breaths against your skin.

“It’s so pretty.” You whispered.

He reached around you and plucked one of them, handing it to you. “Just like you.” He mumbled and you gave him a genuine smile as you accepted the gorgeous flower. Dark red, like blood and sin.

Amongst the numerous plants, trees and shrubs you managed to spot the one growing pomegranates. You cracked a little smile. Even though the garden was partly shadowy and foggy; the rays of sun which came through were golden and gentle. As you looked around, you spotted a yellowish weeping willow tree and walked towards it, the god followed you.

“You’re the first one to ever step in here, you know that?” he said while thinking about all the times he spent hours in here wondering if one day fate would ever allow him to find someone he could share the joy of being here with.

You reached out to touch the dangling leaves and looked back at him. “Well thank you for the privilege, Your Majesty.” You teased.

You walked a few steps forwards, standing under the willow tree and admiring his secret garden when you felt his arm snaking around your waist as he placed his chin on your shoulder.

Neither of you said anything. He was more than happy to have you here, he had been lonely for way too long. You said to yourself, ‘this isn’t so bad.’

He had told you about the rules of the Underworld before, you knew you couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to either. Sure, you missed your mom a lot. But going back out there would mean having to live in constant fear of what if your dad finds you. And what would he do if he does?

Being here meant that you’d be safe and wouldn’t have to worry about anyone catching you. You didn’t fear anything here. It was quiet and the handsome god was great company. You felt all warm and tingly as he held you close, yet it felt comfortable and natural - like you were meant to be here with him, as if you had known him all your life.

As of now, neither of you knew where this mutual attraction would go, or what it would end up being. But at the moment, just having the other one there was enough. He gave you the safety you had been searching for all your life and you provided him the warmth and light he had craved for millennia.

---

Days in the Underworld were surprisingly peaceful; filled with surprises, visits to the garden, learning more about the god and finding out why he stayed as far away from his family as possible, wandering his kingdom all day, reading… time just flew by. And before you knew it, you had lived in the Underworld for months.

Your bond with Bucky morphed into something more affectionate and sweet. Lingering touches and longing stares turned into deep, passionate kisses and always having to sleep in the same bed because otherwise nothing made sense. It wasn’t just love, it was tender adoration. It was warm, and light and safe.

You hadn’t been intimate yet, but the sparks flew around whenever your hands touched at night, or when your eyes met from across the table at dinner. You were both holding back from taking it a step further. It wasn’t like he wasn’t dying to have you in his bed, or that whenever he kissed you good morning you didn’t feel the need to get on top of him and ride him until the sun came up the next day - but you were both waiting for a sign from the other and it was driving both of you insane.

It got really, really heated one time. Bucky was on his throne, with you in his lap. His hands slipped under your dress and lazily caressed your thighs while he kissed the hell out of you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, while you gasped and moaned through the kiss.

But just then Cerberus barged in, barking and jumping around with nothing but chaos on his mind. Bucky let out a loud sigh while you hid your face into his neck and giggled. It was those moments which made you love the place all the more. Not just the place, but the god as well.

Winter came and when the weather was the coldest, and you spent all your time indoors is when the memories of your mother started tormenting you. She used to spend all her time baking in the winter, so you asked Bucky if you could too. He, of course, let you have anything you wanted whenever you wanted so naturally he let you.

You tried so hard to keep yourself busy and happy but you couldn’t help but miss your mom. Bucky noticed it. And it broke him. He gave you everything one could ever need. You had everything here, and yet he could see how your eyes weren’t so shiny and curious or filled with magic and light anymore. You were dimmer than when you first came here.

He began seeing you wandering around his home a lot less as you spent all your time either in bed or standing on one of the balconies, staring out at the woods longingly. No amount of books, or poetry or visits to the garden or your favorite food or kisses from Cerberus made you happy any longer. And Bucky’s worst fear was materializing in front of his eyes.

You were no longer happy in the Underworld it seemed.

One night, he found you curled up in bed earlier than usual. He stood at the door and watched you. You weren’t crying, you were just sad. He walked into the room and called out, “Angel, are you okay?”

You sat up immediately, not wanting him to see you like this but at the same time you couldn’t fake being happy either. So you gave him a faint smile. “Yes, just a headache. I’ll be fine by morning.”

He smiled faintly. His heart breaking at the sight of the sadness in your eyes. “Come with me, I have something to show you.”

You got out of the bed and took his hand. He led you to one of the libraries he had; the coziest one with the huge fireplace and the perfect window which allowed you to see the breathtaking view of the gentle snowfall.

You stepped further into the room and saw that he had the fire going already and the room was much warmer than anywhere else in his castle. You walked right over to the large window, pressing your palm against it as you watched the light snowfall; clean, dazzling white and calming. Your headache faded little by little.

You felt a soft, warm blanket being placed upon your shoulders and you immediately wrapped it around you. Turning your head to the side you found Bucky right behind you. He kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you.

“Feeling better?” He asked and you nodded.

“Much better.”

You stood there, basking in the comfortable silence and the warmth of the room, just watching the snowfall and how it accumulated on the ground; a fresh, thick blanket of ice.

“You miss her.” Again, it wasn’t a question from him, just a statement.

“Who?” You pretended not to understand.

He kissed your cheek and whispered, “Your mother. Your home. You want to go back, don’t you?” He sounded almost heartbroken and bitter.

You remained quiet. You didn’t say anything. No… ?

He spoke up again. “Even if I let you go, you will never be willing to come back here. To me.” He pulled away from the hug and walked over to the fireplace, shifting the burning wood with a brass fire poker. “Why would you?” He sounded pensive. “Why would you come back to this dark, barren kingdom when you can be perfectly happy out there? You must feel like you’re being held captive here.”

He didn’t turn around to face you so he couldn’t see the silent tear which fell down your cheek. So he thought that if given the chance you would run away from here and never come back to him again? Did the past months mean nothing? Did he not see that he was all you wanted?

Your throat burned.

“Is that what you think of me?” The crack in your voice caught his attention. He turned around to face you with a worried look on his face. He couldn’t believe he made you cry. You weren’t sobbing, but you couldn’t contain the tears. “You really think I’m gonna be happy out there, without you?”

That broke him.

“Angel… I didn’t mean to…,” it was rare for the god to find himself at a loss of words but now he did.

You wiped your tears away. “Did you even notice that I haven’t cried in months? Not since I met you because you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. This dark, barren kingdom you speak of feels more like home to me than when I lived with my family.”

He walked up to you and pulled you into his arms. “Baby… I’m sorry.”

You hugged him back. “I don’t feel like I’m being held captive. I don’t want to leave you. But I can’t help but miss my mom. I don’t want you to think I’m not happy with you anymore, I am. But I… It’s… I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.” He said, pulling away to look down into your eyes. “I need you here, with me. The thought of you leaving me forever and never seeing you again, it… it kills me.”

You held him by the back of his neck and pulled him closer. “I’m not leaving.” You gave him a sweet kiss. “I love you.” You kissed him again and sensed his surprise as he kissed you back feverishly. You whined when his mouth left yours only to kiss down your neck, nibbling on your skin and leaving dark red marks behind.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” He mumbled as he kissed along your throat, walking the two of you back until he plopped down on the soft, velvety couch with you on his lap. You looked at him with nothing but hunger in your eyes. He looked at you and smirked; burning desire, lust and sin in his icy blue eyes.

“Likewise.” you whispered.

His hands grabbed you at your butt, firmly as he pressed you further into him. You could feel him; big and hard under you. You moved your hips against him, grinding on him out of desperation and whining in need.

He chuckled against your lips. “You’ve had me by my heart ever since you walked into my life.” He spoke as he cupped your face gently. “I never knew I could feel so deeply for someone until I met you.”

You stared into his eyes, your heart overflowing with all that you felt for him and your body burning with desire at the same time. So much so that you could no longer sit still on his lap. You needed him so bad it almost hurt.

You leaned into his touch. “I feel the same way.” You leaned closer, gently caressing the back of his neck. “Falling for you was so easy.” You felt his body tense under you.

He groaned. “Come here…” he pulled your face closer and pressed his lips to yours immediately, kissing you passionately and making your body tingle; biting your lip before shoving his tongue past your lips and kissing you like he’s famished and you’re the only thing which can satiate his profound hunger.

Next thing you knew, he pushed you down onto the couch and hovered above you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You moaned and whimpered, body squirming under his. You needed him, terribly.

Bucky’s mouth left your lips as he kissed his way down your body, undressing you in the process. Your long, flowy dress found itself on the floor as he settled himself in between your legs. His handsome face just inches away from your dripping core.

He looked hungry, and feral – a man who wanted to do bad things to you, and you were more than happy to let him do whatever he wanted. “You’re mine.” He growled before he leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

Your body felt hotter and lighter as a pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. “So fucking sweet…” he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “Look at me.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.

You opened your eyes and supported your upper body up with your elbows digging into the couch and you took in the sight of him in between your legs. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He maintained eye contact as he licked in between your wet folds again, making you whine as he teased you. His touch was deliberately slow, pleasurably agonizing.

“Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging him to take you already.

Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again. His stormy blue eyes watched how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud until you came undone.

He kissed his way up your body again, then lifted off you for just a moment to get rid of his clothes. Once done, he was hovering over your naked body again.

“If it were up to me, I’d keep you here…” he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, “just like this, forever.” He loved the sight of you; naked, hot and squirming under him. He desperately wanted to keep you there forever and never let you go.

You giggled. “Fiend.”

He smiled as he looked down at you. “Where have you been all this time?” He leaned in to kiss you again as his hands touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin.

His hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. You moaned into the kiss; his touch was slow, and gentle and enticing but also fiery - much like himself.

You whimpered and squirmed under him, and he smirked through the kiss as he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance, pulling your legs up to wrap them around his waist. You moaned out loud as he pushed into you, your back arching off the surface of the couch. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, giving you a couple of seconds to adjust.

He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down above your head. He stared into your eyes, lips parted as he struggled to fit inside you. He had always wondered how he would feel inside you. How warm and how tight and snug you’d feel… but you felt better than he imagined.

You threw your head back, moaning. You were so full of him that even you couldn’t even form a proper thought. His lips found yours again, trying to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours. He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to fit him inside of you.

“Come on, take all of me…” He mumbled breathlessly as he pushed deeper into you. You heard him gasp and swear under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held on to as he pounded into you.

He bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed into you; and you never once complained. He stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain. Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you; fucking you like only a god could.

Your back arched off the couch as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud while he fucked you. He was relentless. The sound of his moans and grunts sent tingles dancing down your spine and you were sure that his bite left a mark.

Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the rush of excitement which coursed through him each time he felt his cock deep within you. His hand travelled all the way to your neck and he gently squeezed the side of your throat. Hard enough to make you lose your mind while he kept pounding into you incessantly.

“Fuck…” you heard a barely audible moan leave his lips as he rammed his cock in and out of you incessantly.

You felt him quicken his pace. You tightened around him, and he groaned, pounding into you; growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you couldn’t hold back anymore.

His other hand toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and made you tremble and whimper again. You moaned, craving more and more of him. With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to cum grow hotter and hotter inside you until it exploded.

You came with a loud moan, gushing all around him. Bucky came right after you; buried deep within you – growling under his breath. His warm cum shot at your walls and trickled out of you when he carefully removed his length from your entrance. You were a whimpering mess. And so was he.

He collapsed next to you. You were shaking just a little as he tucked your head under his chin and ran his soothing hand down your back; while kissing the side of your head.

“I love you too, angel.”

---

Bucky agreed on letting you go for a few days, so you could meet your mom. But he had one condition:

“My mom will freak out!” you exclaimed.

Bucky shook his head. “Mortals can’t see him as the guardian of the Underworld. Your mother will see him as just a regular dog.”

“Then how can I?”

“You’re special.” He walked over to you and pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “You were meant to be here. To be mine.”

“Are you sure about this?” You bent down to give the excited three-headed little monster scratches.

“Absolutely.” He was sending Cerberus along with you for your safety.

You smiled at the dog and looked up at it’s master. “Alright then. When do I leave? And how?”

The god smiled. “Right now. I’ll take you.”

You smirked. “You know we can’t show up in a chariot being drawn by horses, right?”

He chuckled. “Trust me, angel. Come on, take my hand.”

You did. And the next thing you knew, all three of you were surrounded by black fog, and less than a few seconds later, you found yourself standing at the entrance of a beautiful, gated home you didn’t recognize. You looked beside you and there stood your beloved god and his trustee guardian. You realized it was night time.

“Where are we?” you looked around, not recognizing the neighborhood.

Bucky grabbed your hand in his and Cerberus’ leash in another. “Your mom’s place.” He led you to the front door and rang the bell. You were confused, but too excited to see your mom to ask any further questions.

Needless to say, your reunion with your mother was filled with tears and teary smiles and hugs. She then told you that her and your dad were no longer together and that this was her home now. She didn’t know where your dad was, and neither did she want to.

“Oh honey, who is this handsome young man?” Your mother asked, once she realized that Bucky was there too.

You went along with the story you and him had concocted before leaving the Underworld. You told your mother that Bucky was your long term boyfriend and that you ran away to him because you were in love with him and couldn’t agree to marry someone else.

“I’m gonna be away on a business trip for a couple of weeks, so I thought why not leave Y/N with you until I return. After all, she’s been wanting to see you.” Bucky spoke to your mom politely and won her over within a few minutes. The god was indeed very charming.

After leaving Cerberus in your care, Bucky parted from you at the doorstep with a long, deep kiss. “I’ll be back for you, angel. Miss me.”

You smiled, kissing him back. “I will wait. I love you.”

“I love you more. Take care.” he kissed your forehead, and left.

Leaving you behind to your mother whom you had missed, but who also had a thousand questions for you. You answered all of them, lied at most.

---

The first week went by almost too quickly. Mother-daughter quality time, gossip and all. Cerberus was a sweetheart and each morning when you woke up and saw him in the kitchen keeping your mom company, you’d freak out for a moment or two. Then you’d eventually remember that she couldn’t see him for what he truly is and you’d calm down.

By week two, the jittery feeling of being back with your mom had died down. Not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with her, but the fear of your father finding you caught you off-guard often.

It was someday during the third week of you being back with your mom that your fears hit you hard. You had a terrible nightmare where your dad was back and was trying to take you away again. It was spine-chilling to a point where even Cerberus picked up on it.

You woke up to him whining and licking your face. You sighed in relief upon seeing his heads looking down at you in worry and confusion.

“I’m okay,” you gave him some pets and he immediately curled up on the bed beside you. You snuggled beside him, caressing his fur which looked shiny thanks to the moonlight coming in through the window. “You miss your daddy, don’t you?” You saw his multiple ears perk up at that. You giggled. “I miss him too.” You give his paw a kiss.

“Well good thing daddy’s here.” You heard his voice coming from the dark shadow of your room. Cerberus jumped out of bed and was surprisingly quiet as he greeted his master with much excitement. “Hello,” Bucky greeted him, “how about you go home now? I know you’ve missed it.” One last scratch behind the ears and a snap of Bucky’s fingers later, Cerberus disappeared into black fog.

You sat up in the middle of your queen-sized bed and leaned over to light the soft, golden lamp shade by the side of your bed. You blinked in confusion. “Bucky?” You were pleasantly surprised. The soft golden light made him look almost angelic despite his signature, all black outfit.

He gave you his signature cocky smirk. “Were you expecting someone else at this odd hour, angel?”

You rushed out of bed and right into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and he kissed your hair. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too baby. You have no idea.” He pulled away and cupped your face so he could get a good look at you. He leaned down to kiss your lips, deeply. You felt warm all of a sudden.

You smiled through the kiss before pulling away, asking in a hushed tone, “How come you’re here at this time?”

“I sensed that something was wrong. You were having a nightmare, weren’t you?”

You nodded. “But I’m okay now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

You rubbed your nose against his. “Doesn’t matter, you’re here now.”

He grabbed your face and kissed you again; down your neck and along your shoulder. His stubble tickled your skin and you giggled as quietly as you could. You felt his hands caress your skin under your shirt, inching closer and closer to your breasts while he walked you back and eventually pushed you down onto your bed.

Your body tingled and burned under his warm touch, and there was nothing you wanted more than to have him buried deep in you. Ever since that first night together, you craved him almost all the time. After all, he made love to you like a god.

“Do you know how hard it was, being away from you for so long?” He whispered, sounding gentle, but also demanding and hot.

Suddenly you felt all confident and sassy. “Why don’t you show me then?”

He smirked and grabbed your oversized t-shirt and tossed it over your head and somewhere behind him. The sight of your bare body underneath him made him growl. “Is this how you slept every night? Almost naked?” He whispered in your ear as his hands roamed your body, mainly toying with your breasts. “Did you touch yourself, while thinking of me? Hmm?”

You gasped and moaned just at the sound of his voice, he was barely touching you.

He pressed his mouth to yours again, impatient to just have you already. His mouth didn’t leave yours as his hand slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His touch caused a shiver to run down your spine as you moaned through the kiss.

“Shh,” he mumbled against your lips. “Can’t have your mom find out that her daughter is being a dirty, dirty little girl for me now, can we?” He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went.

He messed with you for a little bit; stroking your walls with his fingers and making you whine. You whimpered quietly under him as he nuzzled your neck and nibbled on the skin along your throat. “Please…” you pleaded. He chuckled.

“Please what, baby?” he teased you with his fingers, keeping you on the edge.

You whined under your breath. “I need you… please…”

His lips found yours again as the two of you hurried to unbuckle his pants and he pulled it down enough to free his erected cock. He couldn’t wait any longer. “I need you too baby,” he kissed you deeply, “but I’m gonna need you to be quiet for me, okay?”

He pulled away and waited for an answer. You nodded, breathless already.

“Good girl.” He pressed his forehead against yours while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned under your breath as he did. You whimpered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours.

“Shh, angel.” He whispered in your ear before pounding into you like his life depended on it. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, something which had become a habit of his, as he groaned under his breath at how your body welcomed him perfectly.

You failed to form proper thoughts as he rammed into you. The sounds he made were downright sinful and you loved it so much; knowing that you had the power to make him lose his mind.

“You’re all mine, you hear me?” He mumbled. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered right at the shell of your ear, and you moaned quietly at how he sped up into you.

You did as he asked. You told him again and again that you were his. And no one else’s. You couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.

Bucky held you like you were the most fragile thing ever even while he fucked you like there was no tomorrow. You were a tear-stained, whimpering mess as you came around his thick cock. He came right after you, grunting and groaning under his breath.

“I love you. So much.” He whispered, kissing the side of your face to calm you down.

You smiled, breathless still. “I love you too.”

He stayed with you, in your bed long after you two were done going at it for a second time that night. You snuggled into his side, your hand lazily across his torso. “Are you gonna stay for a little longer? Have breakfast with mom and I?”

He caressed your cheek with his thumb, “Won’t your mother ask how I got here?”

“I’ll tell her that you got here quite early while she was still sleeping.”

He raised his eyebrows at you rather dramatically. “Look at you lying without any shame.”

You giggled and got on top of him, straddling his waist and placed both your palms against his toned chest. “Oh the things I do for love,” You leaned down and kissed his lips with your own swollen ones.

He smiled. “Does your mom like me? As your… boyfriend?” He asked, sounding a little worried and it made you laugh because he was… him - a god, a king, ruler of the Underworld and here he was worrying about if your mom approved of him or not.

You pulled away to look into his eyes. “Yes. She likes you quite a lot actually. Who wouldn’t? You’re perfect.”

He smiled, his heart exploding at your words, as his hands caressed your exposed thighs. “I like her too. We’ll visit her every now and then, don’t worry.” he spoke and then looked around at your bedroom. “I like it here.”

You kissed him again, pouring all your love out into the kiss. You pulled away again, “Also I was thinking maybe we could go back tomorrow.”

He knew perfectly what you meant but he was dying to hear you say it. “Where to, angel?” He reached out and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

You smiled down at him, your heart exploding with just how much love you had for him.

You answered, “Home.”

#hades!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel au

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

i’m thinking abt Police officer reader arresting scummy smexy Touya. Like he smirks when she arrests him and cuffs his hands to his back. I want him in me fr 😍‼️

Tw:none really, maybe sexual harassment and implied noncon

“Officer 776, we got a black sedan coming up your way on I-10. Do you copy?”

You sign and turn your music off before reaching for your walkie talkie and responding, “Yes, I copy.”

And sure enough, the only car that zooms by at 2 am on a Saturday night is a black sedan. It’s a shame, really, you were enjoying the city view by yourself without anyone to keep an eye on. You’re usually posted for ticket duty, but this time you got promoted for night watch.

You would’ve liked to continue leaning back in your seat and watch the only sky slowly dust with stars, but duty calls as the blue custom headlights go streaking past you.

Begrudgingly, you pull your driving handle back and start going after him, turning your lights on in the process and raising the siren.

You’re not even surprised when it takes some slight honking and almost a two mile mini-chase to get the car to pull over at the side of the gravelly road.

The car in front of you stalls, and you observe the status of the car itself. It’s hard to make out the look of the vehicle in the dark even with your headlights blaring in front of it, but you guess it’s a Mazda sedan or something of the sort just like how your higher-up said.

You take a deep breath and gather your flashlight as you open your door and swing outside.

On the short walk to the driver’s side you notice darker marks on the car…almost like they were scorch marks.

That’s strange.

The window is tinted and up. You roll your eyes in annoyance and give three sharp raps to the glass.

“Open the window and keep your hands on the steering wheel after.”

You wait a moment. It doesn’t budge.

A crease appears in your eyebrows and you quickly glance around. It’s completely deserted, just you and the perpetrator.

“I’m gonna have to ask you once more. Open the window otherwise-“

You cut off as the black glass slowly rolls down, revealing a man with ivory hair and black tips at the ends, his face scarred but astonishingly handsome. His mouth, eyebags, lower half of his face and ears are laced with silver piercings…stitches? Maybe, but whatever. Focus on the task at hand.

“What can I help you with meter maid?” Comes his sleazy, gravelly voice.

You lean down and rest an elbow on his lowered window, squinting at his smug face. His eyes are crinkled with the slight upturn of his lips, imitating a crude smirk.

No ones in the car with him, but you can faintly smell some kind of skunk aroma, and alarm bells go off in your head.

“Sir, do you know how fast you were driving?”

“Fast enough apparently, if I copped a sexy thing like you all for myself.”

He props his chin on his scarred hand and rests his elbow right next to yours, mocking your petulant expression.

You grimace and move your hand away from his. He pouts as you continue berating him.

“It’s 2am on a weekend, sir. Where were you headed off to that you had to be there in such a rush?”

The man sighs loudly and lets his head fall back against his leather seat, lips puffing out and fingers moving to drum against his steering wheel.

“Oh you know, the usual. Fucking bitches, getting money, anything a no-good handsome bastard like me does on the regular. Not like I’d expect you to know, meter maid.” He smirks showing his white canines and slowly looks you up and down.

When you scowl he raises his hands innocently and shrugs.

“Just kidding sweetheart. I was actually on my way to burn a few bodies, I’m a hit man y’know. Very much on the wanted list. I’m good at what I do…if you ever need a man, or a body,just call me.” He winks and his infuriating grin doesn’t falter as you yank open the door and practically throw his lanky figure out of the car.

He doesn’t put up any effort of resistance, just lets you push him down by the neck onto the hood of his car, his body bent as you begin searching him.

You know you smell some type of drug in the car but you’re not actually rooting through his pockets looking for gold. You just want a little bit of saving-face from his sleazy mouth.

He exhales and laughs as his cheek smushes against the black steel, his breath puffing up condensation on the hood while you pat his sides down.

“Put your hands on the car sir, and don’t move unless you want to be taken into a cell overnight.” You mutter as you feel his studded belt, his white tee revealing a toned yet sharp body underneath.

The man sighs in faux annoyance. “What’s with the attitude babe? If you’re feeling me up you might as well lose that cold shoulder. The name’s Touya by the way, I would’ve given it to you sooner if I knew you just wanted to get under my pants.”

You freeze as his words register right when you pay down his inner thighs for any suspicious substance-just following protocol.

Nevertheless, you instinctively shoot your hands to your side and sputter indignantly.

“You-you can’t talk to an officer like that! Are you drunk? Count to 100 for me.” You try to divert the conversations to where you have the upper hand, but you should’ve known Touya wasn’t gonna let it be that easy.

“Sure thing meter maid. It’s 1-800-*******.”

“What?”

“That’s my number. Be grateful, I don’t usually give opps my digits that easily, but you’re giving me a fun time so why not?” He cranes his head toward you and licks his lips seductively.

You’re thankful for the darkness of the night, for you can surely feel the best rise to your cheeks at his blatant…flirting?

“Shut up. Just let me do my job asshole.”

The walkie talkie crackles with static as your supervisor calls in to check on how you’re doing, but before you can speak into it Touya cries out suddenly.

“Help! Oh, help me officer! This meter maid is touching all over my little willy! She has ulterior motives I swear it!” He moans loudly and you snap the device shut before turning to him.

“Are you fucking crazy? Do you want me to get fired?” You hiss, but all you get in return is a maniacal grin.

“Sure, ‘means you can fuck around without any protocol then, right?” The man starts arching his hips up in a perverse manner and shoves his ass back into your torso.

You snarl and reach over his back, grabbing both of his hands and slapping a pair of cuffs on him before manhandling him the other way, his face finally aligned with yours, back against the cool steel.

“Oh, so you like it rough, huh?”

You ignore him and drop to a squat, taking his combat boots off less-than-gently and shaking them out for any real baggie.

“Shoulda’ told me sooner doll, we could’ve gotten this along wayyyy sooner.”

You slowly raise your eyes up and take in an eyeful of his thrusting hips mere inches from your eyes.

He’s looking down at you with one eyebrow raised and his usual smirk adorning his features.

Your blood rushes through your body like you just ran a marathon, and you abruptly stand before him, making sure your shoulder checks his straining bulge on your way up.

He yelps and doubles over, unable to clutch his prized possession.

This time when he straightens up with a twisted scowl, you’re the one grinning at him instead.

“Yeah, you’re right, actually. If you’re gonna get me fired anyways might as well do what I want, right?”

You open his passenger door and give him an innocent smile as he watches you warily.

After about 10 minutes of looting through his car and trunk, sure enough you produce a couple of large ziploc bags filled with white powder and copious amounts of cash under thinly concealed pockets in the back.

You hold all of these findings up, and each one of the revelations are either met with a mocking pout or a careless shrug.

Your skin starts to get hotter despite the chill of the night as none of your efforts to match his energy are met with any fruition. In fact, it seems to rile him up more.

“Looks like you’re getting tired hon. Why not use all that energy on this dick?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re not very good at this job, huh? You’d be better as some kind of stripper. Actually, nah, that’s too good of a job for you, maybe a prostitute stuck in my bed would satisfy you.”

On and on he goes as you practically raid his car, even throwing out belongings that aren’t in any way questionable.

Eventually you reach your tipping point. You make sure he’s watching you as you walk around back towards him and plant your feet squarely in front of him, taking your stance.

You reach into your pocket to produce your walkie, cock your arm back, and throw it as far as you can into the surrounding field.

“Where’s that smile now Touya? You scared you can’t defend yourself without anyone on the other side listening in?”

The ivory haired man shakes his head and sighs as if dealing with a grace loss. Your own brows furrowed as he looks up at you with a sorrowful expression, one that doesn’t quite scream sincere when the car lights reflect an excited gleam in his cerulean eyes.

“Nah, sweetheart. I’m actually more worried for you.”

And with a sound as soft as bell chimes, the tugs his hands at the back for a moment and brings his arms forward, palms spread and showing you cuff-less palms of blue hellfire.

He thinks you look pretty when the blue light reflects pure terror on your shadowed face.

“That was a stupid move, throwing your only hope of salvation away. I wasn’t lying, y��know. I really am a hit man. But I’ll take my own offer.”

As you turn to begin to sprint away he smiles again, this one more earnestly remorseful.

“I’ll be a hit man and a body you need for tonight.”

#mha #bnha #scummy dabi #scummy Touya #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi #touya #dabi imagine #dabi x reader #dabi is touya #touya x reader #bnha touya #mha touya #touya todoroki #touya imagine

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sugadaily · 3 years

Link

On tvN’s You Quiz on the Block, SUGA told stories from before his debut. The period of his life when he struggled with how to live off his music. SUGA and BTS have kept going and going for eight years, and now he’s on their grounds, where he can do anything he wants musically. What began with that long journey is the story of SUGA holding his head up higher and staring at the future, reaching for it.

How are you feeling after your shoulder surgery? You’re doing physical therapy in parallel with work. SUGA: I’m all right. I’m keeping up with the physical therapy, too. I had surgery last year because I wanted to be able to go back to work sooner. I have nothing else to do except music.

You said that there’s nothing for you to do other than music in the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, too. SUGA: It’s true. I tried gaming, but I have no talent for it. The people I play with online get so frustrated if I do. I mean, I’m working hard and got some recognition in my life, and yet people bash me so hard in games. (laughs)

I wonder if there’s a game you can do better in than you do in your career. You’re currently at your sixth week at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 [with “Butter, at the time of this interview]. (laughs) How are you feeling these days? SUGA: When we were at number one for two weeks straight, I was like, Wow, this is so amazing! But after the fifth or sixth week, we really started to talk about it between ourselves: I really can’t believe this. Anyway, I feel like I have a responsibility. And I think I’ll end up thinking much, much more when we get ready for the next promotion. Even if I just try to enjoy this situation, it hasn’t sunk in. We can’t leave the country, plus there’s lots of issues in the world right now that are much more important than how well we perform on the charts.

As you say, it’s a tough situation, all over the world. How do you feel about releasing “Permission to Dance,” with its positive message, at this point in time? SUGA: It seems like everyone around the world is really tired of this situation dragging out. I wanted to convey a message that tells people to keep hanging on to hope until the very end. Whereas we released the album BE in this situation, seemingly without any certainty, I believe things will slowly get better now. I don’t know if we can go back to the way things were before, but I’m still working with the hope that we can return to a situation that resembles what we had before.

Aren’t you tired of the pandemic being in this prolonged state? SUGA: I look at it as, when you lose one thing, you gain another. I ended up being able to see my family more since I’m in Korea. In that sense, I feel more stable, so I’m not so much tired as hoping each day that things will become okay soon. I keep moving back and forth between work and home, and I’ve started to reflect on parts of myself I didn’t know about before. Like that I feel somewhat comfortable when I start and finish work at a certain time. While I used to have to go to bed at a certain time for work the next day or else I had a hard time getting up early, now I know I’ve figured out what time I should wake up at to make sure I feel good all day. What I pursue in life is emotional stability, and I don’t think there’s really anything too exciting or sad happening these days.

What effect do those emotions have when you work on music? SUGA: They don’t have a big effect on it. I think it affects the way I write lyrics a bit, but I’m not working on any lyrics at the moment. I’ve been making music for a long time, so I think it’s possible for me to express emotions I’m not feeling in the moment. And it’s good that we released “Permission to Dance” in this kind of situation.

You sing rather than rap in “Permission to Dance.” In addition to rapping, you started singing more both before and after BE. What did you learn about your voice? SUGA: “Permission to Dance” was a little bit difficult. I don’t draw a line between singing and rapping or anything, but it was different from our usual style, and the vocals were a bit high, too. So even though it took a while to prepare for it, I worked hard, and even when I asked some older musicians for their opinions, they all said, “It’s good the way you’re doing it. Don’t try to sing better—just sing more.” I think my only option is to sing more, like they suggested.

As far as style goes, you’ve been doing a smoother kind of pop music. Did any differences arise as a result of these changes? SUGA: All things considered, the English was the hardest part. I paid close attention to my pronunciation in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” It wasn’t easy to capture that smooth feeling in the songs, so I practiced my pronunciation quite a bit. And I end up breathing a lot when I’m doing an English song, but the rap parts were a bit hard for that reason. There’s a clear difference from Korean songs, since English has so many syllables. But I don’t have any one method I stick with for my vocals yet, so I tend to try lots of different things out.

What do you make of BTS’s achievements over the past year with “Permission to Dance” and “Butter,” as well as the group’s change in style? In the space of a year, you’ve released songs in a style different from MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 or BE. SUGA: As a producer, I think reactions are important to an artist who works within the field of popular music. With that in mind, speaking as a producer, “Dynamite,” “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” were the best choices. And musical tastes are different from country to country, and the cultures are different, too. Given that situation, I think it’s important that we’re a group who can send such a universal message out into the world.

BTS has really grown and changed a lot, starting with “No More Dream” and all the way to “Permission to Dance.” SUGA: I think it’s a natural course of event for those of us who make pop music. Artists mix and match different genres as they grow, and the music develops as the people of its time listen to it. I’ve been listening to a ton of music lately, and thanks to the times we live in, if I listen to a song a few times, they recommend me more songs in a similar style. And after listening to them, I realized the style of hip hop is also changing and is splitting off into different offshoots. Other than hip hop, I also listen to a lot of instrumental music. I’ve always liked Hans Zimmer’s music. There have been many times where a movie I like turns out to have music by Hans Zimmer.

What is it about Hans Zimmer’s music that draws you in? SUGA: I like orchestral music. There’s a lot of pop songs that are under the three-minute mark now, and whereas it’s sort of predetermined that they’re always written with intros that are four bars long, orchestral music can do a lot within its framework.

But, as can be seen in IU’s song “eight,” which you both produced and featured on, you broke out of pop music’s typical composition style and tried out a highly condensed progression. The composition of the chorus is very straightforward. SUGA: Yes. I insisted that the flow be roughly cut in half from that of a typical song, and I expect more pop music will be like that in the future. And maybe even shorter as time goes on. I mean, these days there’s songs that are under two minutes, even.

Regardless, I felt the chorus in “eight” is extremely dramatic with its structure and the melody of the chorus. I thought it was rather grand in scale as well. Would you say that you’re attempting to mix your tastes and things you want to do into the structure of pop music? SUGA: As you know, I love hip hop, so when I was first making music I thought it had to be hip hop no matter what and that I had to take pride in my own ideas and not accept any compromise. But while getting some experience at the forefront of pop music, I figured out that you can keep being stubborn or inflexible because there are people listening to you. There was a time I made music without any listeners before I became a member of BTS. But if someone were to ask if I stopped being stubborn about the music I’m making these days, the answer’s no. As I grew up and became an adult, I came to realize that I have to negotiate between what I want to do and the kind of music the public wants without compromising anything. When I give up on something I wanted to do, I ask myself, What will I get out of this? And conversely, when I want to do something, I ask myself, What can I get out of this? That’s how I keep my balance to make it to where I am now.

You have no choice but to think about those things when you work on other artists’ songs, especially when you’re a producer. SUGA: I’m BTS’s SUGA, and I’m Agust D, and when I’m producing, I go by “by SUGA.” But when it comes to by SUGA, I make perfectly commercial music. I’m the producer for those songs, sure, but the owner is someone else, you know? In that case, they’re commissioning my work. But they wouldn’t think about just leaving it all with SUGA. The artist’s label has to think carefully about whether to commission me for producing and consider my situation, too, and those people must be hoping for something commercial. That’s the most important part of working with outside people. Actually, that kind of work isn’t much of a benefit to me, to be honest. Oh, he can write this kind of song, too. That’s all. The more valuable thing I can get from it is the recognition and records the artist or the company will get with the song instead.

As you noted in your previous Weverse Magazine interview, when you discussed your “interest in the music industry in the US,” you seem to constantly think about the things artists can do within the framework of the music industry. SUGA: I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve become more certain since the pandemic started that I’m the kind of person who always has to be doing music. That much I know for sure, so I want to keep on making good music. And the pop music market is something that came about because there were people listening, and there’s a long history to the US music market, and it possesses the most influential charts in the whole word. So then I thought, Wouldn’t they have gone through all the same things that we have? And really, whenever I talk to other pop stars, the situation is always similar. The US is also more realistic about commercial results than any other country. I wanted an accurate picture of how those people work. Right now, Korean pop music’s spread is in full swing and we need more good artists to keep popping up. From a producer’s standpoint, if that’s going to happen, I think the key is how well we can mix our music and the characteristics of overseas music industries overall.

How did it feel to be in the lineup for the Grammy Awards, one of the icons of the US music industry? SUGA: The feeling was less immediate because we couldn’t be there in person, and it wasn’t a huge distinction, but the performance made me think, This is different, because it’s the Grammys. What changed my view from the first time I went to an American music awards ceremony was, the first time I went, I was really scared of the world’s biggest music market. But when I look back now, I don’t think I had any reason to feel that intimidated. To be honest, I have only now begun to enjoy the awards ceremonies; I wasn’t able to then.

It’s no exaggeration to say that you’ve achieved most of the things that you can as an artist in the music industry. What steps do you think are necessary for the artists who follow after BTS? SUGA: The way artists work seems so difficult. They make an appearance on a different music show every day once the promotional period begins, meaning the exhaustion artists face is enormous, and that fatigue often results in injuries as it adds up. That kind of music show is for promotional purposes, so it’s not like the artists can earn a proper income from them. On top of that, despite all the promoting, there’s no visible outcome, so they inevitably lose morale. If possible, it’d be nice to have one of the performances be really high-quality, even if it’s just the one, but in this environment I’d say that’s pretty difficult. And since our job doesn’t fit the common conception of work, there’s ambiguous boundaries when it comes to issues of legal protection as well. We need a lot of improvements to be made to the industry and its system.

They demand a lot of things as collateral for success, yet success is extremely difficult to attain. SUGA: The great thing about the label I’m with is they listen to the artists’ opinions. I think both we and the label know to a certain degree what kinds of activities would be best commercially speaking. But the question is whether the body can endure it or not. If the fatigue builds up as you continuously do those promotional activities, it’s hard to do them the way you did when you first debuted. In that case, I think the label ought to actively accommodate the artist’s views about what they can and cannot do. An attitude that’s just like, Oh, we made you kids, and as long as you just do what we tell you to it’ll all work out, so just do it—I think that really doesn’t make any sense. Of course, there could still be situations where the label has to be pushy like that, obviously. But I heard there’s been times where a label will just say, Do it, without any explanation to the artist, or, Why are you talking so much? I think that’s the biggest issue and it’s destroying the industry. If you just see the artist as a product, how can they do anything creative? I really think it’s very contradictory to ask the people on stage to put on an enjoyable performance when they’re experiencing neither fun nor enjoyment.

That reminds me of the music video for “Daechwita” somehow. You appear onscreen as both a rebel character and a king, looking as different as your situation when you first debuted with BTS and your situation now. SUGA: There was a lot I wanted to do in “Daechwita,” not just musically but also visually, and a lot of ideas came to me as I came to reflect on who I am as a person while working on the music video. It naturally occurred to me to separate SUGA, by SUGA and Agust D. The character I played in that video who wasn’t the king was a stranger. It takes place during the Joseon era, but then there’s cars and guns, which of course don’t belong in that era. I think we’ve been living our lives that way. Right from our debut, a portion of the hip hop lovers criticized us by saying, They’re idols. But at the same time, we heard things like, They’re not idols. I didn’t know which drumbeat to march to, so I think that’s why each of our albums took a different direction than people were expecting. But I don’t think I can call myself a stranger in this situation anymore. So these days my main goal is to keep going with BTS for a long time. Having a huge audience show up at our concerts is nice, but I think the goal for all of us is to make sure the group can keep making music even as we get older. I think right now we’re thinking a lot about how we can have fun and be happy on stage.

What do you mean when you say fun and happy music? SUGA: I think people are happier the busier I am, so lately I’ve been thinking that I need to focus a little more. I figure we should do as much as we can for ARMY since they feel happy watching us. We’ll continue to try our best, so I hope they believe in BTS and keep their eyes on us.

So that’s why you do music. SUGA: This is the only thing I know how to really do. Other than music and BTS, there’s nothing special about me when I look at this 28-year-old Min Yoongi. That’s why I want to keep doing this.

#yoongi #suga #bangtan #bts #210730 #interview

146 notes · View notes

literaila · 3 years

Note

If you’re still doing requests, what about a loki x reader where he plans a date around asgard? Pure fluff as he tries to impress reader

a perfect sort of different

loki x gn!reader

a/n: went with more of a “loki moments” type thing but. it was very fun to daydream..sooo.

the pure rush of colors was magnificent.

it felt like so many things, so many bright lights flying past you at once, so many seconds condensed into not even one, and so many smiles lived through the blur of everything.

you’d been worried about the Bifrost— loki spoke of it with a brilliant smile on his face, mischievous glint in his eyes. but now, seeing it for yourself, you understood that look.

and you felt a little dizzy.

loki is holding onto your arm when you regain composure and look around, you’re barely aware that he’s the only thing holding you up.

it’s different here, strange. your eyes are squinted, tired from all the colors but you still manage to look around.

strange.

“—darling?”

your head tilts to look at loki, whos staring at you with all the confusion of a mighty god. he must not even realize how disorienting the bifrost could be.

“yes?” you whisper, surprised by how your voice sounds. it’s different, strange, but feels smooth. you smile as you breathe out, enjoying this sensation.

loki looks amused when you meet his eyes again, and finally, he lets go of your arm, turning around.

your eyes drift past him, to the walls, the floor, the weird thing in the middle of the room, and finally, someone else.

you hadn’t even noticed the person standing there, proper-like, sword in hand. he’s staring at you, eyes a strong, strange type of gold. he doesn’t look unkind, but still, your smile is hesitant.

you wish there was a directory for this sort of thing.

“thank you, heimdall,” loki quips, not bothering to look over to the man, and walking past without a breath.

his strange tone of voice doesn’t escape your ears. you stare after him, his long immortal strides, noting the tension in his back.

“shall i let your father know that you’re here with— ahem —your guest?” the man, heimdall, calls after him even though he’s not that far away yet.

he’s not looking at you anymore, so he can’t see your confused face. you sense some tension.

loki spins around with a smile, too big to be real.

“better not,”

and then he’s walking again, leaving you behind, standing there looking all too small. accidentally— you hope.

you turn to the man with his beautiful gold eyes. he’s already looking at you, waiting for whatever he knows you’re about to say. your eyes dart to loki for a moment, meters ahead of you already, and you look at heimdall again with an apologetic face.

“thank you,” you say quickly with your strange chilled voice, and then, before he can respond, you’re running after loki.

he walks far faster than you do— curse his long legs — and it takes a moment to catch up. luckily, he stops when he notices you approaching.

his face is void of anything.

“bad blood?”

loki, stood in front of you, gives an unamused look at your words, then looks forward to the-

oh, wow.

if you’d thought the bifrost and the man were strange— this would be miles away. the sight in front of you has your jaw-dropping, your breath wavering off as you stare.

it’s bright, so bright, and gold gold gold. it looks like a place from a story, a fictional thing that people on earth could never dream of seeing. it’s so-

wow.

it would be embarrassing to burst into tears right here, wouldnt it?

loki seems to be thinking the same thing because he leans down to grab your hand, distracting you from your thoughts of sobbing.

“do you like it?” he wonders, nodding toward the castle, the gold, the colors. it’s all very overwhelming. beautiful.

“it’s very…” you cant stop staring, cant think long enough to finish.

your eyes are glued in front of you.

“very what?”

and to him.

his blue eyes are awaiting your response, and his hand soft and cold in yours.

“just very,” you whisper.

he rolls his eyes, breaking your lovestruck thoughts. bastard.

“that doesn’t make any sense, dear,” he chides, taking a few steps forward and pulling you with him. he ignores the scoff that follows his response.

you observe the sky, clearer than you’ve seen before, the mountains which you hadn’t expected, the buildings and the still-movement all of them are making.

it’s only takes a few more seconds for you to finally look down—

—and jump away from loki.

he’s looking over at you with curious eyes, wondering where you’ve gone, but you’re staring at the ground.

eyes wide, face shocked, wondering how in the nine realms you didn’t notice this earlier.

it’s a rainbow, yes, so how are you walking on it?

“am i going to die?” you blurt out, moving backward, not really looking where you’re going. all you know is that you need to get off this rainbow.

you cant believe loki wouldn’t have warned you before, cant believe that you’re still alive even now.

“darling-“ loki is calling, you don’t listen. “darling, darling—“ his voice gets louder, nearing you. “hey-“

he’s grabs your arm, pulling you to him, his breath against your face. his grip is stronger, but his voice is stronger “you’re only going to die if you fall off,”

it’s then you notice how close you were to the edge of the bridge.

oops.

you look up to loki, now rational enough to be still, and wince at his scowl. embarrassing mortal, you are.

“sorry,” you say and take a step back. the ground is firm beneath your feet. you probably should’ve noticed that before.

another eye roll.

okay, so maybe you definitely should’ve noticed that before. and— yup, loki is still glaring at you.

“i’m okay now,” you promise, smiling and taking a step closer to him. loki doesn’t relent, turning his head away.

you kiss his jaw anyway, loving the quirk of his lip you can just barely see out of the corner of your eye. he’s not a very sly god.

you peck up, until you can just barely meet the corner of his lips, and then he’s turning his head, meeting you halfway.

forgiven, then.

“you are absurd,” he says, his eyes so very kind, the antonym to his words. he runs two finger tips under your jaw and then looks away.

“sorry,” you repeat.

loki just laughs, moves the two of you closer to the middle of the ‘bridge’, giving you a pointed look. he’s never going to let that go.

then the two of you are walking, towards the castle, towards the gold, towards the beautiful place in front of you. you’re not sure how loki is so calm, how he can keep his eyes off of any of this for even a moment.

when you’ve almost reached the end, loki starts telling you about the bridge, about its prosperities, it’s history. he whispers things about the skyline in your ear and guides you toward the beautiful place.

it’s all very wonderful. peaceful, somehow, something you’d never thought you’d get to experience. especially not with him.

you’re almost there though, the buildings, the people, when you feel a cold blur cover you.

your clothes are gone, in their place, a blob of leather and cloth.

“loki,”

he doesn’t stop, moving ahead with your hand still in his. you notice his clothes, once a shirt and some jeans, now transformed into leather and more leather.

and… horns? gold horns?

appealing, yes. ridiculous, yes.

“your highness, almighty god, care to explain?”you call, after removing your hand from his, and crossing your arms. he’s not supposed to magic you without warning.

he doesn’t even attempt to look innocent, instead fiddling with the clothing at your waist— admiring it almost.

you huff.

“darling, you can’t except us to wear… that here, honestly. you’d be executed at the gate,” he waved a hand, completely ignoring your face.

dumb, cute, bastard god.

he tries to pull you again but you snap back. “nuh-uh, junior, you don’t make any sense,”

“i don’t make sense?” his amused eyebrow is not helping.

“explain,” you say, instead of elbowing him.

he sighs, throws his head back, rolls his eyes and looks up. all within two seconds. you might’ve appreciated it if he wasn’t being so convoluted.

he sighs again. “we’re trying not to draw any unwanted attention, darling, hence the clothes,”

you stare at him for a few moments, his impatient, ridiculous face.

and then “you’re literally wearing horns,”

“they’re comfortable,” he says, as if that’s any explanation at all.

“they’re horns,”

“custom fit” he says with a stupid prideful face. again, any other time it might’ve been endearing.

you look behind him, to the palace you cant wait to see, to the noises you can hear.

“…aren’t you like a prince here?”

“well, technically, darling-“

but you don’t let him finish, instead you take one step past him and interrupt. “also, you like— bask in attention all of the time. you practically live for it,” you continue to walk, expecting him to follow.

“i do not ba-“

“don’t try and deny it, loki, lying doesn’t look good on you.”

“i’m the god of lies,” loki huffs, and doesn’t utter another word. you’re sure he’s crossing his arms and pouting.

after a few moments of silence, you’re beginning to worry that you’ve actually hurt his feelings, but then he sighs again.

“shall i take them off?”

you roll your eyes at that, watching his hand go up to his head, stopping him with the gentle tap of yours

“no, love, then people won’t notice them,”

you walk forward, laughing to yourself when loki doesn’t follow. a part of you wants to look back to see the look on his face, but the other part doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

it doesn’t matter though because loki only pauses for a moment, and then he’s running to catch up to you and looking down upon you with a smirk.

“does that mean you like them, then?”

loki’s room is… unexpected.

you’d guessed about the rows of books, the dark colors, the large expanse of space. it wasn’t that hard to guess after you knew about his decorating skills.

but this… something about this is warm.

maybe it’s the large glass windows you hadn’t thought of, maybe it’s the light they bring in. maybe it’s the view of the bifrost, maybe it’s just some magic asgardian thing,

but still, you loved it from the moment you’d walked in.

it was him, you supposed, there wasnt much that could keep you from loving it.

still, loki’s tour of the room (big, yet smaller than you’d thought it would be) was your favorite part.

“this was my favorite dagger, before my mother gave me the one at home,” and “yes that is a trophy— no, darling, we dont need to talk about it-” and “you think thats funny but i spent most nights away from bed,” (you’d hit him for that one (( “sneaking!” he’d promised))

it was wonderful to hear about his childhood, no matter the grey-tinted glasses he looked at it through.

and now, standing at his library while he sits in the chair next to you, you cant stop smiling at the books you cant read.

“whats this one?”

“that one is illusion-casting,” he answers, and he has a book in his hand— another title you cant read —but the two of you both know that he hasnt looked away from you once.

“i should burn it,” you mutter, familiar with the name and the magic.

loki smirks, you refuse to look and see but he is, and sings out a quiet “ ‘fraid you’re a bit too late,”

“this one?” you demand, voice louder now. you ignore the snake slithering over your finger tips. he won’t win that fast.

“that one is a work of fiction,” he says, standing up to grab it from you. the snakes disappear in an instant. he flips it from the front to the back, studying it carefully. you’re sure you see him gulp before he says “its about frost giants.”

you’re familiar with that name too. and you know, you would’ve been able to see it even if you didnt, that its a bad reminder for loki. something about it is causing that dullness in his eyes.

“it is?” you whisper, moving closer to him to observe. you still cant read it, but something about the feel of his skin is comforting.

“its asgardian, obviously,” he looks up, closed off face. “not very pleasant,” he whispers to you.

his words send pricks down your heart.

you’d known this would happen when he’d invited you, stuttered out his invitation with his silk voice. you had guessed that too— that asgard held bad memories for him. that there was a reason, before maybe, he hadn’t wanted to come back.

until now, of course. he was excited to show you around.

still, there must be something to get that look off of his face.

you grab the book from his hands, placing it back on the shelf as carefully as possible. you move back, smile— slightly sad —on your face. loki is watching, but you’re not sure if hes really there.

so, you move closer, grab his hands before stepping into his chest.

you’re looking into his eyes when you ask “should i burn that one too?”

and he doesn’t move. he doesn’t breathe in or out. he just stands for a moment.

but you can see it— the twitch of his nose, the subtle change in his eyes. you can see the life return to his brows, the colors flooding his cheek.

you don’t mention the blue, the tint, the composure he’d lost. you won’t speak of it until he does.

and then, within another moment, with one sharp inhale of breath, loki’s smiling.

and it’s wonderful, it’s amazing, and you’re quick to return it. you hope it’s your words, hope that loki can already hear the unspoken ‘i accept you’ you’re sending to him.

you hope just this once that he’s reading your mind, that he knows how highly you think of him.

it takes one more second for loki to grab at your waist, to stare at your lips until he cant take it anymore and he— gently —claws at your face.

his lips are yours and his hands are running across your skin, across the clothes he’s made for you, all over until you’re breathing once again.

you want to pull back and look at the color of his eyes, but you don’t want to move. you cant move away from him now.

with gasps of breath, warming hands, loving eyes you can see when loki finally does pull back, the two of you are smiling.

at least, right now, you’re enough to shove away the memories.

“yes, darling,” he whispers with his lips centimeters from yours. “you should burn them all,”

you laugh and loki groans into the next kiss. he’s fast and slow and hard and soft and pulling away…

“we should burn them all,” he corrects, eyes attached to yours.

you scoff though, instead of returning his lovely look, and move away. “i quite like the look of some of these,”

“you cant even read them,” loki complains, reminds you with a smirk.

you glare at him, pulling out another book. he’s right next to you, leaning against the shelf and watching you with observant eyes.

“doesn’t mean i’m going to burn them all just to feed your pyromaniac tendencies,”

loki laughs, maybe at you, maybe at your words.

but still, when you look over to him again, you can’t help but laugh back.

“…if i married you, would we share the title of ‘the god of mischief’?”

it was a serious question.

loki’s reaction was not helpful in the slightest.

he’s sitting next to you, laughing— cackling at your words.

the two of you have been leaning against the bookshelf for a while now, not noticing the time that’s passed while you discuss, talk and read.

well, loki reads, you listen.

you been enjoying the stories he tells you, both his and others, enjoying the way his mouth moves when he reads, the way his eyes flick up to yours every couple of moments. the smile that lights up his face after those few seconds of eye contact.

you enjoyed his bursts of energy, the moments when he’s reminded of something and so he pauses the story and tells you something else instead.

you’ve enjoyed all of these hours on the floor.

and no, you’re not exactly sure how the subject has come up, but still.

the scowl on your face is not playful.

“that’s not really how it works, darling,” loki says in between the laughs he still can’t seem to keep in.

he’s got a hold of your hand, and so, with the maturity of the adult you are, you snatch it back.

it’s only then that he looks up with betrayal in his eyes. his lips quirk at the look on your face moments after.

bastard.

“fine,” you say with practiced ease. “i didn’t want to marry you anyway,”

without another look at his face, you stand up, sore from sitting on the floor for so long and stretch.

loki is quick to follow, turning your head to make you look him in the eyes.

“pardon, darling?”

your smile is malicious. “you didn’t hear me?”

loki quirks an eyebrow at you and moves your head down only slightly. he moves his hand against your forehead.

“are you sick, my dear?” he asks with all the fake curiosity he can muster.

hey wait— where did he even learn that?

he laughs again when you force his hand away.

“you’re infuriating,” you say, glaring at him.

loki smiles, charming once again, and leans down. “i am the god of mischief-“

“heard that one before-“

“-and i will share that title with you, if you’d like.”

and then, he’s across the room before you even get the chance to make another comment.

god— he’s so beautiful when he’s laughing at you.

“what do you think?” he asks, playing with your wrist in his delicate hands, moving your hand to his liking.

it’s been a long day, you think.

“about what?” you whisper back, teasing that smooth sensation on your tongue, feeling the weight of your eyelids.

his bed is wonderful. soft, silky. and even if the scent is slightly different— you can still tell it’s him.

“me,” loki murmurs. “here, this place, my home.”

he’s giving you options, you know, and still. there’s only one real answer.

it’s all been very disorienting. from the very moment, you stepped foot here, from the moment loki asked you to come. it’s been fast, and slow, and a blur of everything.

every moment has been scattered with confusion, and while happiness, excitement, and curiosity lay beneath that— it’s still the biggest thing.

it’s so different here, so strange, so sweet. loki is different here too— someone you don’t know, but recognize so well.

there’s so much to mention and just not enough words.

so, you don’t know what to say when he asks.

loki seems to notice, he’s looking in your eyes which are cast off to the side, and he can see the hesitation.

“if it’s bad, i’m sure we can find a memory loss spell,” he says.

you laugh and he delights in the sound. he keeps going.

“or we can go back down to midgard, and you can tell everyone i kidnapped you, and then you’ll never have to see me again.”

“technically, you did,” you say, looking at him, watching his facial expressions.

he laughs. “i did,”

theres a moment after hes done speaking, pure silence.

loki gives you a minute to think, traces the skin under your eyes while he waits. hes been paitent-- uncharacteristic -- and you still dont know what to say.

“i feel like i’m dreaming,” you blurt out, carefully watching for his reaction.

he doesnt answer, doesnt meet your eyes, only hums.

hes waiting for more you know.

you sigh. “i’ve been worried that i havent woken up all day- that you’re upset because i stood you up, and missed out on all of this.”

loki looks then, looks at you, looks closer.

“this is all so surreal, loki, so different.”

he smiles, and you’re not sure if its good or not. you’re both tired, you can tell, you’re both exhausted, you’re both drained from all the laughing, and you’re both so happy.

or, you hope he is. you know you are. how could you not be?

maybe you should tell him that, too.

“a bad sort of different?” loki asks before you can speak again. hes moving up, lifting his head from your stomach and moving to meet you, to hold you.

you’re smiling once again, a tired sort of smile.

“nothing different about you is bad,” you tell him, you whisper into his mouth when you move up to kiss him. you wrap your hands in his hair, pull him as close as possible.

its such a lazy kiss, but you cant help but think that its your favorite one of the day. you feel loki’s hand on your neck, feel him pull you in too.

you match each other, in breath, in movements, in whispers between kisses, in softness and warmth.

when you move back, when you look at him again, when your eyelids are falling but hes holding you up--

when you move back, you cant stop yourself from speaking again. “you dont think my different is bad, do you?”

its sort of a rhetorical question, but maybe its not. loki is going to answer, either way, you know.

“your different is perfect,” he confirms and pulls you in deeper once again. hes pulling you under the water, holding you up in the sky, making you feel so different here, so different in his bed, in his home, in his arms.

a perfect sort of different, you know. now, and then and forever, maybe.

“are you still dreaming?” loki asks when he pulls back. he says it like hes trying to prove to you that you arent. like hes trying to prove to you that this is real, that he is real.

“maybe,” you answer back, close-lipped smile on your face. “but, you know.”

loki stares, his head lifts up as he waits.

...and then you dont say anything. you’re just breathing, matching his stare.

“i don’t” he protests, a demand in its own way. softly, he kisses between your brows.

you smile, softer at his touch.

“i dont mind dreaming, as long as you’re here,”

maybe its not the answer he was expecting, or maybe its shocking, because the look he gives you is not what you were expecting.

you laugh and lay back against the pillows, knowing that he’ll follow, knowing that you’re both going to fall asleep like this and it’ll be perfectly okay.

you’re supposed to stay here for a while anyway, today was just a start.

loki, kisses you again, once more for now, desperate and hard and unlike the kisses from before.

its a blur of colors before he lets you go again, a blur of hope and excitement and wonder and every emotion he lends you.

you’re so tired, you know.

he whispers something in your ear, says your name again, calls you ‘darling’ for the last time that day.

it's a different kind of sleep. strange, shallow. in his arms, surrounded by these sheets that you’ve never felt before. surrounded by this place that you’ve never been. cuddled in the arms of someone you’ve always known.

perfect.

my masterlist here.

#loki x reader #loki spoilers #loki x you #loki imagine #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x gn!reader #loki x gender neutral reader #loki fandom #loki layfeyson imagine #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson x you #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel fanfic #loki (marvel)#marve #marvel

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solarwonux · 3 years

Text

24H || Seuncheol

mechanic!seungcheol x reader

soulmate!au

w.c: 6.5k

warnings: talks of death, angst, self doubt

note: hello everyone I am not completely back yet, I am still on hiatus. I have been writing this one shot since the release of 24H. I have rewritten it many many many times and have a abandoned it many times as well. Anyway, this is the finished product and I hope you guys like it as much as I do. Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts. And thank you @sunlightwoo for literally witnessing it all lol.

Also maybe one day I’ll post the original draft of this one if anyone is interested.

P.S. this is a part of a soulmate universe in which all the members are going to have a story, but that’s gonna take a little while lol, but I hope you all stick around until them

masterlist

Hour 1 - 17:00

Seungcheol threw the wrench on the pile of tools next to him before rolling himself out from underneath the car he was working on. “I don’t see the point in it, Shua.” He sat up, grabbing the towel he had next to him, and tried his best to wipe the black smudges of his fingers. “I’m already a disappointment to my parents, why not add one more to their list?” He shrugged, eyeing his best friend who had decided to come and visit him at the car shop he worked at.

“I think Shua has a point; you can’t brush this off. You don’t want to end up forgotten in a ditch somewhere.” Jeonghan said, pointedly resting his forearms on top of the hood of the car he had been working on.

“I’m not going to end up in a ditch and forgotten. The higher-ups--” Seungcheol stuck a pointer finger out and pointed at the cement ceiling, “are just going to set me up with someone.” He stood up and brushed off his whitewashed jeans, the only ones he seemed to wear as they had various oil stains etched into the creases of the fabric. In actuality, he had many of the same pair, and each of them had their own unique patterns of different oil stains.

“But wouldn’t it be better if you married your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime, the person the Stars destined you to be with,” Joshua spoke in rushed sentences as he ran a frustrated hand through his jet black hair. His wedding ring shining in the light of the sun, glowing in all its glory. A reminder that he had chosen the path that he and Jeonghan were trying to get Seungcheol to take.

Sometimes curiosity would seep in s when he saw how happy his best friends were with their soulmates, or when the ticking of the clock scarred into the skin of his wrist, and got too loud to ignore. Seungcheol knew he didn’t belong on that path. He was never one to follow the crowd, and the proof was in his parent’s disappointment when he decided to study music instead of medicine.

“Nope.” He stood up and closed the hood of the car. He could feel their glares burning holes into his scalp as he strode over and opened the driver’s door. “I’m a firm believer that soulmates are made not found.” Seungcheol grinned before getting behind the wheel and inserting the keys into the ignition. He had spent all morning working on a minor problem in the engine; he was hoping that after many failed attempts, he would finally be able to get the car to start again.

With a deep sigh, he turned the key listening as the engine sputtered a few times. The hope and confidence he had gained diminishing with each hiccup until, finally, the car roared back to life. A sigh of relief leaving his chapped lips along with a light laugh. He rested his forearms against the old battered steering wheel, peering through the windshield, catching Joshua’s nod of disapproval. He turned on his heels and walked out of the large garage door of the shop.

Seungcheol knew his friend’s meant well, and he knew they didn’t want him to end up unhappy with someone that wasn’t his other half. But how was he supposed to be sure that happiness was a given? When at the end of the day, everyone’s given soulmate was chosen at birth by a group of old white dudes calling themselves Stars.

Hour 2 - 18:00

“What are you going to do then?” Jeonghan closed the hood of the car and dusted his hands. His blonde hair grasped the light of the afternoon sun. Seungcheol placed down the paper bag that contained his and Jeonghan’s lunch on top of the aluminum table they kept in the far corner of the shop. “I don’t know...eat lunch.” He stated, shrugging and started taking the contents out of the paper bag. “Shua leave?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the hood of the car. He strode over to where Seungcheol was and took the burrito he had held out to him. “Said he doesn’t want to stay and watch you ruin his life.”

“I’m not ruining my life,” Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head and sat on top of the table, unwrapping his burrito. “I’m choosing the road not taken.” He finished before taking a decent bite out of his burrito.

“That’s ruining your life in my book.” Jeonghan gave him a pointed look and unwrapped the foil of his burrito, cursing when he noticed some its contents start to fall out of its confinement. “Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about how they look?” He dug inside the paper bag and took out a napkin to clean off the salsa stain of his grey graphic tee. Jeonghan rarely dressed down, unless he was working. Though, sometimes he’d show up in outfits Seungcheol always deemed to clean for the oil splatters he would obtain throughout the day.

“If looks were the all end tell-all, you’d be an actor instead of the owner of your father’s car shop.”

“Are you calling me sexy, Choi Seungcheol?” Jeonghan gasped, making the other boy scoff in annoyance. Seungcheol took another bite of his burrito, the salsa running down the stubble of his chin and sighed. “Cause may I remind you I am happily married.” Jeonghan jokes, raising his hand, wiggling his ring finger.

Seungcheol squinted as the ring got caught in the crossfire between the heat and summer sun. The churning at the pit of his stomach started up again, along with the little voice annoying voice that lived in the back of his head. The red block of numbers on the inside of his wrist laughing at him as he tried his best to push the thought to the back of his head. Like he had done his entire life.

“Sure...but that would just be an excuse, and it wouldn’t be fair towards the other person.” He shrugged, finally cleaning his chin the rest of his mouth. He crumpled up the foil in his hands before throwing the ball he had formed into the paper bag. “It wouldn’t matter soon anyway; I don’t have much time left.” He jumped off the table and made his way to shelves where they kept most of the tools along with small spare car parts they might need some time in the future.

“How much time do you have left?” Jeonghan asked a little too exasperatedly than he would’ve liked, but Seungcheol had managed to catch his tone, and it was starting to make him feel uneasy. He closed a drawer he had mindlessly opened and dropped his head. Seungcheol hated looking at his timer because it never brought a good reaction out of him. He hated the way the anxiety would filter in through his veins as he let his mind wander to the what-ifs.

For as long as he could remember, he only allowed himself to stare at the number scar before bed but never enough to dwell on it. Last night he had twenty-four hours left; now he was positive the timer had reached the single-digit zone, and to be frank, he was afraid. He didn’t want to feel the pressure against his chest and the shortness of his breath. He didn’t want to feel the shaking in his hands and sweat that formed against his brow bone. Seungcheol had already chosen, but he knew that the second he glanced over at the timer, his doubt would start to run free. And he hated that feeling more than anything, but he also hated Jeonghan’s burning gaze staring him down as if he were doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. So he caved.

He turned his wrist and pushed the bracelets he used to hide his soulmate mark with his other hand. His breath caught itself in the back of his throat, his lungs closing in like two crushing walls as he saw the numbers ticking down. For a split second, he wondered if he had chosen the right path if his parent’s and his friends had been right all along. But he had been so sure just like he was confident that his name was Choi Seungcheol, that he had chosen right, so why was he letting his thoughts take over.

Maybe it was the teachings of the Stars he grew up reading at home and at school, or the guilt has finally started to consume him. Whatever it was, he decided to push it aside, bury it deep inside the archives of his mind. He had chosen right, and he wasn’t going to let any false pretenses change his mind.

“Five hours.”

Hour 3 - 19:00

Seungcheol moved the straw of his bubble, creating soft caramel tidal waves in the cup. He had already picked out all the tapioca pearls leaving him to deal with the unpleasant honeydew tea he had ordered. The soft melodies of an old pop song played in the background, drowning out the flirting going on between the lovers in front of him. He kept his eyes trained on his cup; it had started to accumulate the condensation that came with the humidity of the summertime. His index finger traced over the water droplets that had fallen onto the table, creating a small picture of nothing.

Jeonghan had dragged him to their usual boba shop after closing up the shop for the night. He had given Joshua a frantic phone call, claiming it was a 911 type of emergency. Seungcheol wasn’t sure how they weren’t tired at having the same conversation, and why they couldn’t let him live with the consequences in peace? If he ended up unhappy, that was his problem, and he would eventually deal with it, but he couldn’t stand the way everyone around him always seemed to have an opinion on how he should live his life.

It had started the day he was born, scarred with a mark against his own will. It carried out onto his childhood, his parents and teachers telling him how to sit, how to dress, how to speak, and how to breathe. When he left for college the same day his parents decided to disown him, he had finally felt free. He thought for himself, walked for himself and lived for himself. But now his best friend’s the ones he thought he could always count on and he felt knew him better than anyone in the world. Where the ones were trying to guilt-trip him into making a choice, he had made years ago, and frankly, he was getting really tired of it.

“Are you even listening to us Seungcheol, this is your future you're putting at risk,” Joshua whispered angrily, his grip on his cup grew tight enough his knuckles had started turning white.

“Why does it matter?” Seungcheol lightly flicked the straw of his drink before pushing it away and crossing his arms. Jeonghan and Joshua both looked at him as if he was growing a third head, annoying him even more. He wasn’t sure why this was such a big deal to them, it wasn’t their life getting ruined.

“It matters because we don’t want to see you dead.”

Hour 4 - 20:00

“Are you serious? Do you guys actually believe that kind of stuff?” Seungcheol shook his head and looked out the restaurant window. The sun had finished going down for it’s deep slumber and in return awakened the night life of the city. He took in the people smiling and laughing as they joked and clinged onto one another. He saw limbs start to give out as the alcohol they had previously consumed started to replace their blood. Seungcheol found himself wishing he was one of those people, where the one controlling his body wasn’t the one that gave up on their dreams but instead still held onto that small sliver of hope. It would at least be an escape for a little and most importantly it would be an escape from the painful talk his best friend’s were giving him.

“Fuck you Seungcheol.” Joshua spat out, quickly he stood up grabbing his coat and shrugged it on. “I’m not going to stay with you and watch the clock count down until you die.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket and took out his wallet before throwing some money onto the table. “Are you coming with me?” He said before facing Jeonghan who was biting his bottom lip in contemplation. Seungcheol saw the gears turn in his head as he thought over his options, his eyes traveling between the furious looking Joshua and himself.

“Joshua calm down, look there have been some cases in the news lately of mysterious deaths and the only thing they have in common is that their timers went out before they got to meet their soulmate. I don’t know if it's all connected but it can’t just be coincidence Seungcheol.” Jeonghan stated, he tapped his forefinger against the wooden table as Joshua eyed him down waiting impatiently.

“And what if it is, what if I do find this person and then they turn out to be horrible? You guys got lucky but my life has never been a series of unfortunate events since the beginning of time so who's to say this is any different?”

“If you keep sitting here and mopping and feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll never find out.” Jeonghan nodded before taking out his wallet and throwing money onto the table. He hated the pity he saw behind his eyes. It only frustrated him because to him it felt like they had given up on him already. That they were planning his funeral without him leaving the world yet. Seungcheol wasn’t entirely convinced that death was at the end of this unfortunate journey, he sadly hoped it was. That way his friend’s would actually have something to pity, but he was alive and healthy (for the most part) so their pity in Seungcheol’s eyes was uncalled for.

“Then let me find out. Everyone is always telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, I didn’t need you guys to also be one of those people too. You’re supposed to be my friends but here you are nagging me like you’re my parents. If I’m not worthy of hanging with you guys anymore because I’m not married and I have no interest in ever getting married then just leave me alone. I’m better off by myself anyway.”

Seungcheol knew that as soon as the words left his mouth they had been a mistake, but mistake or not he would never take them back. No matter how the luck of hurt flashing in their handsome features affected him more than it should’ve. These few hours could be the last of his life and instead of living it to his fullest with his closest friends he was pushing them away. Just like he always did whenever he felt too comfortable or afraid.

“Jeonghan let’s just go, he’s already made up his mind. He’s not going to listen to us.” Joshua sighed, the exhaustion was evident on his face. It was clear he had given up long before the events of tonight. He knew how stubborn Seungcheol was, he knew that once he sets his mind to something there’s no way to turn it back. Seungcheol suspected that’s why he hadn’t tried as hard as Jeonghan to convince him to change his mind.

“Cheol, just think about it okay. You don’t have to go out and actively look for that person but just keep an open mind and they might just appear right before you. I know you think that we’re trying to do this to change you or to get you to settle down, but we don’t want to turn on the news tomorrow and have your names be part of one of the victims. If you can’t do this for us or yourself at least do it for you mom.” Jeonghan nodded one last time before scooting himself out of the booth. He stood sending a glare to Joshua that wasn’t missed by Seungcheol and somehow it made him feel uneasy inside. He didn’t want to be the one to cause a rift between him and Joshua’s friendship, they had known each other longer than they had known Seungcheol. For half of their life’s Seungcheol was simply an outsider between the threesome. He didn’t know at what moment they became inseparable, but now he wished they hadn’t.

At least they wouldn’t be involved in the webs of Seungcheol’s complicated life, and they certainly wouldn’t be here showing the utmost care for him when he himself felt like he was unworthy of it.

“I’ll call you tomorrow” Jeonghan mumbled before dragging Joshua out of the restaurant, mumbling angrily underneath his breath. Seungcheol knew the small comment was Jeonghan’s way of holding onto the little amount of hope he had for his friend. The hope that he would walk into the car shop tomorrow morning and see Seungcheol passed out drunk, his drool stain embedded into the checkered pattern of the old battered couch in the office, because he couldn’t remember how to unlock his front door.

Though, it was a phrase full of hope, it wasn’t a promise, and it felt more like a goodbye to Seungcheol. It made him uneasy and Seungcheol hated feeling uneasy because it only made the ticking sound of the clock tattooed onto his skin louder.

The front door bell to the restaurant sounded, signaling that someone had walked in or out. He turned to face out the window again and saw Jeonghan and Joshua in a heated argument before Jeonghan kept dragging him away by the ear this time. The scene could’ve been comical to him at some point, but now he just wondered if they were all going to be okay by the time the night ended and morning came again.

Either way it was clear to him that they had walked out of his life, maybe not for good but they also wouldn’t be the first ones either.

Hour 5 -21:00

Seungcheol paid the bill and exited the restaurant quietly, his best attempt to remain invisible. It would be a lie if didn’t admit how scared he was after Jeonghan and Joshua left him alone with his thoughts for the first time since he awoke that morning.

Would his faith really be death?

Or where they using their evil tactics against him to convince him to do the right thing. Needless to say he was scared, more scared than he ever was whenever he thought about falling in love.

He had once, a long time ago, back when he was still studying music production in college, before he dropped out and took up a job at Mr. Yoon’s carshop. During the three years he was there, all the songs he had composed resembled something about her. Whether it was a phrase she had said or the way the color blue seemed to make her honey doe eyes pop. He was in love, head over heels, ready to give it all up, his friends, his pride, his dream, his life, everything under the sun, for her. He had his bags packed long before she had agreed to run away with him.

In fact, he almost did, but the morning as he stood underneath the winter sun, waiting at the bus stop with two overprized one way tickets, with his fingers threatening to fall off from the cool. Everything became clear to him, she had abandoned him and their plan. She had given up on him, just like his parents had when he first told him he was going to follow his dream, instead of theirs.

Seungcheol was angry, it boiled inside of him like an overflowing calderon, and the closer he got to the university and his dorm, the more it spilled over. In a frenzy he had entered his home and destroyed everything he owned. His studio setup, his computer, his many notebooks that were filled with lyrics, because everything had been touched by her and he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Not after she had lied boldly to his face the night before when they shared the most intimate moment with each other.

And just like he promised to her underneath the moonlight, he gave it all up, but this time because she had broken him.

There was a letter she had left for him to find. It didn’t come into his possession after he had stopped attending classes and was living on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch. The university had called him to pick up his belongings from his dorm after he dropped all his classes on whim one Saturday afternoon. When he did, when he opened the front door of the wretched dorm room, the room that once held so many beautiful memories turned sour. The toe of his shoe was met with a brown paper envelope, his name scribbled neatly on the back. Instantly he knew who it was from.

Seungcheol had once prided himself in memorizing the way her letters curved with one another. A useless talent he now wished he could forget entirely. With a hesitant he opened it and skimmed through, not wanting to linger long enough on every single one of her words so it would hurt less.

In the end it did.

It hurt more than her leaving him stranded on the bus stop that morning. It hurt more than finding out that the little things she had strategically left at his place had mysteriously disappeared when he came back home that morning. It hurt more than giving up entirely on a dream so pure that it ended up tainted. It hurt more than dying, or so he assumed because now he finally knew the truth. A truth he had been blinded to the entire three years they spent lost in each other’s thoughts and arms.

She didn’t love, and she never did. She had a passion that consumed her to the point of greed and when she realized she wasn’t going to achieve her dream with Seungcheol at her side.

She left and he had given up love for good.

Which is why Seungcheol was so against the entire soulmate phenomenon. If death was the outcome then so be it, even though the thought of his mom finding him out he was dead scared him to the point it welcomed chills to his body. He was stubborn though, and his father always hated that about him because it reminded him of his younger self. But Seungcheol was never going to give in, no matter how loud the click on his wrist was ticking and how fast he found himself walking.

There was a little bit of hope. It was reserved for special occasions and those had been a rarity in Seungcheol’s life for longer than he liked to admit. But it was still there, buried deep inside, behind his walls and his pride. And it was threatening to burst out into the open, because as much as Seuncheol was scared of falling in love again, this time with a complete stranger, terrified him. The thought of not knowing if his life was really at stake was far scarier. He was gambling with his life line and that was a risk he found himself not willing to take. Though he would never admit to himself and especially not to Jeonghan or Joshua.

He was in complete denial at least for a slight second. Yet, he had started to walk with fever and hastily. He was desperate, he didn’t know where to start or how to start or if he should even start. He just walked, until his body was running on autopilot. He didn’t know where he was going or where he was going to end up, but the only thing on his mind was that the timer was blaring inside of his eardrums at an alarming rate, and the hope he kept at bay spilling out of his pores.

He needed to find his soulmate before it was too late.

Seungcheol didn’t want to die, he still had a dream to achieve. He will do it, he had promised himself that much. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from again.

Hour 6 - 22:00

Seungcheol was panting, bending over, with his sweaty palms against his jean clad legs as tried his best to put the air back in his lungs.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, all he could remember was bumping into a few people along the way and mumbling sorry’s underneath his breath when they had sent him glares his way. But he had ended up at the park across the street from his studio apartment, the one he rarely lived in because more often than not. The old raggedy couch at the car shop had been his home for as long as he had worked there. He had bought it last year after saving up enough money, in hopes of it becoming his new beginning, his safe space, where he could jump right back into working on his one goal in life.

Though, the first night he had spent there, he had hated it. Occasionally he would give it a second chance. He had given it many second chances, but the outcome was always the same. He would stay awake until four in the morning, get frustrated and then end up running laps at the park until sunrise.

This park had been his sanctuary, the one his apartment couldn’t provide, so it was no surprise his body had carried him here. He felt at home here, the hollowing of the wind chiming and wrapping around him like a blanket of safety. Here, in this park, Seungcheol felt comfortable enough to let his mind race through the thoughts he would keep hidden behind a wall.

He straightened himself out, running his fingers through his wet sweaty hair and made his way to the park bench by the basketball court, where he would occasionally lay down in the middle and look at the sky, counting the lack of stars in the sky. He knew they were there, but because of the city's light pollution they were invisible to his eye. Those were the only stars he trusted, not the ones that used the Universe’s gifts for their own selfish desires and to control everyone.

The stars in the night sky, the one’s he used his imagination and intuition to connect with, trusted him. They were the only one’s in his life that believed in him, even when he couldn’t believe in himself, and it made him feel at ease knowing that at least someone out there was rooting for him to win this losing battle.

Seungcheol took a deep sigh and placed his palm over the watch on the inside of his wrist. He had only two hours left, and he would rather not witness the time ticking down. He could hear it, it was drumming loudly against his eardrums, loud enough to the point in which he couldn’t hear the wind and the tree’s surrounding him singing their natural melody. The last thing he needed was to see the visual representation of his last breath nearing him.

He wanted to fight, but he was tired. If tonight was his last night living a life he had been so cruel to. He would at least take his last breath at the place he felt most at home.

So, he sat back and closed his eyes tightly. He felt the wind against his cooling skin, the familiar shivers running up his spine. For the first time since he woke up that morning he felt at peace.

Hour 7 - 23:00

The ringing of his phone startled him. He had only had his eyes closed for about five minutes. Only five minutes of peace before it was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He let out a frustrated sigh and fished out his phone from the pocket of his oil stained light washed jeans. His gaze and heart softened when he realized his mother was the one calling him. Without hesitation he unlocked his phone and placed his phone to his ear.

Silence. He was met with silence, until a choked sob broke it, his heart shattering in the process. “M-Mom, what’s wrong?” Seungcheol sat up. His eyes grew wide. The anxiety running through his body making his leg bounce.

“Joshua called me. He was freaking out saying that you were making a mistake. What is talking about? You’re not thinking about leaving again?” His mom spoke. Seungcheol could visualize the almost heart attack Joshua had given his mother when he called. He could visualize the color draining from her face as her hands shook while she dialed his number. Seungcheol’s mother was an over thinker and she always thought about the worst possible scenarios. Especially when it came to Seungcheol and his brother. Joshua knew what he was doing when he had called his mother. He knew that his mother was his weakness. Despite the differences they argued about over the years, Seungcheol loved his mother and knowing she was in such distress because of him, scared him more than what he already was.

“Nothing mom, he’s over exaggerating. Jeonghan, him and I had a small argument earlier but it’s nothing mom. I’m okay.” He spoke into the receiver lying through his teeth. He wasn’t fine, although he was in his sanctuary and at peace. His timer finally reached the fifty-nine minute mark and his heart was racing to the point he was scared it would literally squeeze through the spaces between his ribs and rip through the safety of his skin, onto the concrete pavement beneath his feet.

“Are you sure? He sounded really scared and worried, what did you guys fight about?” The words came rushing out of her mouth at lighting speed. He knew that question was coming and although he tried scouring through the files in his mind to come up with a concrete answer that would make his mother worry less. He couldn’t. There was no answer he could give her. If she lied she would know, but if he told the truth, his mother would certainly never be able to recover.

He knew he could prevent her heartbreak. All he had to do was get up and start walking again, let his feet carry him as his intuition and the Universe led him to where he needed to be, but he stayed seated. His hand closing into a fist taking the roughness of his jeans between them, the frustration, fear and anxiety coursing through his veins faster than before. Maybe if he wasn’t such a coward, maybe if he didn’t let his own selfishness consume him to the point it clouded his judgment, he could’ve let himself do what he needed to do. What he wanted to do.

“It’s not a big deal, Jeonghan asked him to be his best man and I got a little upset. Tomorrow we’ll be fine and laugh about it.” He said letting out the breath he had been holding in. He knew he sounded like he had just ran a few miles rather than sitting down in complete silence and stillness.

“I know you’re lying but I have been able to get the truth out of you, so I’ll drop it. At least I know you’re okay and you’re still here.” Seungcheol’s mother stopped speaking for a second, he could hear his father whispering something to her and his mother answering in agreement. “Visit us tomorrow, your brother is coming over tomorrow for dinner. Your dad wants to see you.” She half whispered the last part and it brought a slight smile to his face. For years Seungcheol and his father had not been on good terms, whenever they saw each other, his future always became the topic of conversation. His father always shared his disapproval and disappointment on how Seungcheol’s life had turned out. His father expected too much from both him and his brother, he had dreams in which he had tried to instill in them. It wasn’t enough that one of his sons had achieved his dream, his pride was attached to the two of them. And knowing that Seungcheol always refused, always followed the beat of his own drum, wounded his pride.

His mother and brother always tried their best to bridge the gap between them that had only grown deeper over the years.

Seungcheol admired their commitment, but just being in his father’s presence fully aware of how he felt towards him was only a simple reminder of what he did not want to become, and it only made him resent him even more.

“I don’t know mom, I work until late tomorrow and I wouldn’t have enough time to go home shower and change. Maybe some other time.” Seungcheol whispered. The wind blew causing a single leaf to escape its perspective branch. Seungcheol watched it closely as it flew down, landing on his lap. He picked it up in between his forefinger and thumb, twirling the steam as he listened to his mother sigh out.

“Just come after work...it’s important.”

Seungcheol wanted to say yes. The simple three letter word was one of the hardest ones to say. With the urgency in his mother’s voice, he knew that she wasn’t lying and that whatever his father had to tell him. It was important. But Seungcheol didn’t want to make a promise he could not keep. For he didn’t know if his tomorrow would ever come. If the last thirty minutes (indicated by the timer on his wrist) would be the last thirty minutes of his life.

He wondered if it was possible for time to run faster than before, and the quick ticking sound in his head proved that he was right. It was now drowning out the sound of his mother’s low and desperate pleas.

“M-Mom I’ll see what I can do, maybe if Jeonghan is in a good mood I can convince him to let me off early, I’ll try to be there by dinner time.” The almost empty promise escaped his throat, running past his teeth and perfect lips faster than he could stop himself.

“Perfect. We’ll see you tomorrow.” His mother cheered. He could hear and sense her happiness through the receiver of his phone and it shattered his heart. When tomorrow came and what Jeonghan and Joshua both claimed to be true would happen. What would be his mother’s reaction?

“I’ll try mom, you know I’m not good at keeping promises.” He half joked, the tears had started to pool in the corner of his eyes. He looked up at the night sky, making eye contact with the moon. They had once been intimate, but over the last few months they had been disconnected, the stars surrounding her protecting her from his own selfish needs and acts. He missed her, he wished he could feel her light upon his skin, caressing him and holding him in ways he wanted to be held. Ways in which he needed to be held. Though, he could feel her reluctance as he took in her beauty. She was there with him, keeping him company as the last twenty minutes of his life counted down.

“You always find a way to keep them Seungcheol. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.”

“I love you too mom.” He whispered before the line went dead. Seungcheol sighed, bringing down his phone from his ear. He stared at his mother’s contact name, trying to decide if he should call her back again. Tell her that he wasn’t fine that he was scared and that he wanted to be in her arms, singing the song she always sang to him whenever his imagination betrayed him, plaguing his dreams with nightmares. But he didn’t again, his own pride and reluctance, the one he gets from his father and the reason why they clash so much kept him calling her back.

Instead he looked at his timer one last time, noted that there were ten minutes left and placed his phone down next to him on the bench. He took in his surroundings one last time before leaning his back and closing his tired soft eyes.

Hour 8: 24:00

“Excuse me?”

Seungcheol opened his eyes upon hearing the sound of the soft voice behind him and the light tap on his shoulder. He sat up quickly looking around frantically. He only had five minutes left and his peace had been disturbed. He turned around his gaze falling upon someone he had only seen in his dreams.

“You dropped your phone.” You said shakingly, handing him his phone. He assumed that it had fallen through the cracks of the bench; he had been so deep in his thoughts he didn’t hear the thud of it hitting the ground.

“Oh um, thank you.” He spoke quickly, taking his phone. His fingers accidentally brushed over the soft skin of your wrist, the familiar digital clock appearing before him and the ticking sound became loud enough to the point he couldn’t hear the nagging voice that had stayed with him for the last twenty five years of his life. Quickly he glanced down to his wrist and then at yours, he could feel the fear radiating out of your pores as the seconds counted down faster than the speed of light.

Seungcheol almost laughed. In fact he felt the laugh suppressing itself in the back of his throat. But as the timer finally reached the infamous zero’s, his last breath didn’t come, and neither did yours. He watched as you looked around frantically before your eyes found his. You let out the sob you had been suppressing for the entirety of the day. Your knees gave up on you and you leaned down hugging your calves, burying your face into your thighs, the sobs came quickly and Seungcheol sat there not knowing what to do.

It was like his body was acting on his and he stood up, rounding the corner of the bench and crouched down. His shaking arms wrapped around you tightly, running a soothing hand down your back, smoothing out the wrinkles of your navy blue sweatshirt.

The next words we muttered, were words he never thought he would say again. But again it felt like he wasn’t in control of his body. It felt like after the timer hit the long awaited double zero’s his body belonged to someone else, almost as if he had been reborn again after twenty five years.

“It’s okay, I am here.”

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

The Rewards of Getting Shot | Bucky Barnes

Hey lovelies back at it with the Dinner at DIzzy's content. I would call it a drabble but I would be lying lmao. It is, however, the first smut of the event and that feels special lol. I'm a tad iffy about this one-- usually the smut I write breaches 8k words and I am so not used to condensing it so it's an experience for us all lol. Please do enjoy loves!

Appetizers (Tags): Fluff / Smut (a lil' angst at beginning but soft!angst)

Entres (Pairing): Bucky Barnes x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 23: “I have to protect the one thing that I can’t live without. That’s you.”

Notes: Takes place after Bucky gets injured protecting reader, requested by @hellotvshowtrash (god I hope you like this because the sheer amount of times I giggled like a little girl while writing this needs to be worth something)

THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!!

Word Count: 3k (what is actually wrong with you Dizzy these are supposed to be drabbles)

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

“Buck—” She whimpers, her fingers brushing around the angry red gash on his chest, hand shaking. “What were you thinking?”

Bucky’s skin is hot to the touch, more furnace than man, chest slightly damp from the serum working his body in overdrive. A few tears slip down her cheeks, cold in comparison to the man below her. It’s her fault that he’s injured. He jumped in front of a bullet for her. If she had just been paying attention then it would have never happened. Of course she hadn’t been paying attention. She had heard a scream and turned away for one second— just one— and the next thing she knew there was a bang and—

“I had to do it, doll.” His voice is tired, his blue eyes a little duller than normal, but beyond that there are no noticeable differences— he still stares up at her with that half grin, half worried pout that he always does.

His hands flex on her hips, pulling her body further up his own until her thighs are pushing around his hips, knees sinking further into the mattress. She plants her hands on his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin, afraid that if she lets go then he might disappear. Who’s to say this isn’t all a dream— that he isn’t still laying on the street with a bullet lodged in his chest?

She shakes her head, dropping her eyes back to the healing wound. “You’re hurt— because of me.”

His fingers tense. She can feel his jaw slouching, leaning down and scratching her cheek with his stubble, no doubt trying to find her eyes again. Any other day she would give in, wanting to stare into his eyes just as much as he does. But today isn’t any other day. Today is today and she can’t look at him— not without feeling the guilt crash over her. When did she become so irresponsible?

“I’m fine, doll.” His lips press against her temple and she flinches like she was the one hit with the bullet and not him.

She swallows thickly, curling her hands into balls but leaving them on his shoulders. He smells like the hospital still— like alcohol swabs and the burnt metal tinge that seems to always accompany sterile buildings— and she can barely find the lingering traces of his pine tree musk. Her chest jolts, the sob getting caught in her throat, more tears racing down her face. They don’t phase her at this point— she’s more water than woman right now. The flame and the sea— right now she feels too destructive. Like he’s going to flicker out and that it’ll really be all her fault.

Her throat is raw when she finally answers him, her voice too dense. “You could have been killed.”

His hand— his flesh one— leaves her hip, curling gently around her chin. He doesn’t push her face up yet— he’s still giving her the option to look at him on her own— but she knows it won’t last long. Soon he’ll break and she’ll be forced to meet his stare. She’s never dreaded looking at Bucky so much.

“But you would have been. You hear me? You would have died. The chances—”

“Bucky—” she tries to protest but his hand only tightens.

“The chances—” he continues anyway, not giving her room to talk over him— her time’s running out— “were more in my favor than yours. That’s all there is to it, doll.”

She can feel the final barriers of his patience waning, his grip starting to push on her jaw as his voice takes on a grittier tone. It’s not anger. She’s heard him angry and this is nothing close. This is desperate. This is worse. She can feel him breaking and she can’t take it— can’t take the feeling of him tugging her even closer.

She can’t take it so she breaks first.

“I was careless and you got hurt. That’s all there is to it.” She mutters, her gaze snapping to meet the hard crystal eyes of the man she loves.

Bucky shakes his head, his brown hair falling slightly in front of his concerned eyes. She doesn’t move to fix it like she normally would. Something about touching his face right now feels wrong— feels blasphemous. She’s not allowed to touch him; she hurt him. Her eyebrows crease, lips pressing together. Just looking at him hurts. Probably nowhere near as bad as his skin feels as it fuses back together.

His other hand moves from her hip, the now warmed up metal curling behind her ear. She watches as he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing jaggedly. His stomach is pressed against hers now, his heat burning holes through her thin t-shirt. She can feel every inhale he takes— she can feel how his breaths become closer together.

“No baby—” he pulls her face closer to his and it is only then— when her shoulders bump into his— that she realizes she’s sobbing— “no you were looking out for your teammates. You always look out for us. For me. It was a split second decision and I would do it again.”

Now that the dam has broken she can’t stop the flood, ripping her hands from his shoulders and squeezing her palms against her eyes. Her hands don’t stop the tears— that was never her intention. It’s more so she won’t have to look at his eyes as they begin to glass over. Bucky doesn’t cry often but when he does it always hits her square in the chest. Kind of like how the bullet—

“Why? Why did you do it?” She chokes out as his hands slip around her wrists, thumbs rubbing over her pulse points, drawing her hands away so gently that another round of sobs threatens to unleash.

He’s always so damn gentle with her.

“Baby come here.” The soldier murmurs, voice hoarse, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. “Please. C’mere, doll. It’s okay— It’s all okay.”

He guides her hands to his face until her palms rub over his stubble, locking his fingers with hers and squeezing. His lips find her cheek, skimming over the salty tracks left from her tears, finding her ear and pressing a kiss to her temple. She breathes in and, through the alcohol, can finally make out the notes of earthy musk. It makes her shudder and he presses his lips against her harder.

“I did it because I had to.” He whispers against her skin, words hot and slow. “The other option was watching my girl get shot—” she flinches again and he kneads her hands— “I have to protect the one thing that I can’t live without. That’s you.”

It shouldn’t hurt to hear that. It shouldn’t hurt to hear that he loves her more than anything else— especially because she feels the same way. It shouldn’t but it does. It rips through her ears, slicing down her throat, stabbing at her gut, before finally settling between her thighs— this stinging, aching emptiness. She sniffles, finally curling her fingers around his jaw without his help, scratching through the hair on his jaw. It zaps electricity through her fingers— air into her lungs.

“Buck—” she can’t finish her thought— both because it was never really there to begin with and because his lips crash onto hers, swallowing her words faster than they can come.

He kisses her hard— hungrily— his hands reclaiming their place on her hips as his tongue pushes against the seam of her lips. He still tastes like himself— like plum cobbler and diet coke— and she opens her mouth to him instantly, desperate for more. The first brush of his tongue against hers sends a wave of shocks rushing down her spine, pooling in her core. She doesn’t realize how exposed she is until his hips are pushing up, nothing but his sweatpants and her boy-shorts separating them.

He squeezes, thumbs brushing under her shirt and rubbing hard circles against her hip bones. The contrast— flesh versus metal— is enough to have her head falling back, thighs caging him tighter between her. It takes no time for his mouth to fall to her throat, sucking her skin into his mouth and biting down. It stings in a new way— the bruise like payback. Sweet, sweet payback. The first moan slips past her lips and he groans against her skin in return.

Bucky grinds up against her, using his hands to keep her hips smothered against his, rocking ever so slightly to brush his hardness against her. His movements are jagged, no doubt skewed from his injury, but nonetheless they send little bolts of pleasure zapping down her legs. When he does it again— this time a little harder— she arches her stomach against his, toes curling around thin air the same way her core clenches around the emptiness. Her fingers fly to his hair, threading through the damp strands and tugging a little harder than she intends to.

When he hisses some of her common sense comes back to her— not enough to get her to stop rocking against him— to stop chasing those tiny sparks of everything— but enough to make her ease up a touch.

“Bucky you’re—” he pushes her against his length with more force and she loses herself to the moan that tears through her lungs, the friction like magic— “Buck you’re hurt we can’t.”

“I don’t care, doll.” He mumbles, trailing open mouthed kisses down her neck, yanking the collar of her shirt to the side to latch his lips onto her throat. “Need you now— right now.”

She wants to argue further— he’s already hurt, whether or not because of her, and she doesn’t want to make it worse. They’re on the tip of her tongue; all the words she should say. You need rest. The doctor said to take it easy. Bullet wounds and sex usually don’t go together. She goes to open her mouth— to at least try— but when her lips part all that comes out is a string of nothingness, a metal digit sliding her panties to the side and plunging inside her before she can even try. When she peeks down at him, pulling her neck from its position on her shoulder, she meets his glinting blue eyes. The cheeky bastard.

She clenches around him right away, the slight thrum of the current in his fingers enough to have her moaning his name. It’s all the encouragement he needs to add another. She’s sure that if he were to keep his fingers there long enough the vibrations would be enough to have her climaxing around them. Of course that’s not his style— not right now at least. She can feel the tension in his movements as he twists the digits inside her, curling them as his thumb presses against her clit. He rubs it in a steady— if not semi-sloppy circle. She doesn’t care— the pressure and vibrations in combination with the rhythm of his fingers pumping in and out of her has her seeing stars.

He leans down, nose brushing along her cheek, voice soft and needy. “C’mon baby, I can feel you already— I know you wanna’ let go. Are you gonna’ let go for me?”

His voice is too soft— still much too slow— and it makes her feel like she’s floating, the pressure in the pit of her stomach. That might just be his fingers though, now kneading that spot inside her that has her pulling on his hair again, this time to keep her from falling off his lap as she bucks her hips against his fingers. She’s so close she can taste it— the metal inside her now sharp against her tongue. It’s intoxicating— it’s harsh— and it hits her like a truck how badly she doesn’t want to come around anything but his cock.

“More, Bucky— I want more. Now. Please, baby, now.” She whines, desperate to hang on despite the sweet torture she’s facing at the literal hands of the man she loves.

That’s all it takes for him to hook his arm around her hips, pulling his fingers from her core and holding her above him as he frees his length with his other hand. She drops her hands to his shoulders, the pressure of her pending orgasm beginning to wane until his skin— bare and hot and hard— brushes against hers and she’s gasping for air— for more. She can hear him chuckle through his own, needy huffs, repeating the motion against her throbbing clit. She can taste the metal again— that’s how addicted she is to this man. All it takes is a few measly touches and she’s putty in his hands. So much so that she almost reaches between them and lines him up for them.

“Bucky please— please, please, please— I need you. I need—”

It happens so quickly— her eyelids flashing with white, tongue flooding with the taste of plum cobbler, diet coke, and her body spasming with the orgasm that is no longer just waning as he enters her with one acute thrust of his hips. He doesn’t give her a moment to adjust— she doesn't need one, core clenching around him as he pulls out of her and repeats the jarring motion— and it’s all she can do to dig her fingers into his skin and cling to him for dear life.

“Fuck baby—” he purrs, chest rumbling against hers as he uses his arm to continue rolling her hips through the unrelenting pleasure crashing over her— “you’re perfect— so damn perfect.” His head falls on her shoulder, lips brushing over her bruised skin feverishly. “Think you can do that again for me?”

His words spur something in her— a new, hotter fire than the one circulating through her veins. A need. Despite the way her thighs feel like literal jelly, just barely holding her on top of him she’s suddenly determined to give him whatever he asks. Before she can process her own actions she’s pressing on his chest, carefully avoiding the now almost healed wound, until his back is flat against the pillows, his eyes more black than blue and wider than she’s ever seen them.

“Doll—” She rolls her hips, hissing at the feeling of her still sensitive clit pressing into the hard plains of his abdomen, and his words die into a throaty moan that she swears she can feel in her own chest.

“Let me do it.” Her voice is breathy, the air in her lungs almost entirely gone, but the sight of the man— her man— under her makes her wonder if she ever needed air to begin with.

Surely he’s more than enough for her.

She does it again, rising off of him slightly before sinking back around him, gaze glued to his half-lidded eyes. His mouth is open but no real words come out only curses that, upon leaving his lips, turn into something so much more sinfully incoherent. They’re gasoline to the fire— fuel to the bucking of her hips. When her clit brushes him again it feels less like a shock to her system and more like everything she’s ever wanted coming to fruition.

That familiar pressure begins building again— faster and much too quickly for the slow pace she had been trying to set— and she can feel him start to buck up against her. His impatience is like a drug, one that warps her already hazy mind and urges her to roll her hips quicker, grinding down on him harder. His arm is still hooked around her back, something she only remembers when he tightens, holding her against his chest as he drives up into her, cock brushing the same spot his fingers had.

“Bucky—” she sighs, starting to fumble, losing herself in the weightless feeling creeping over her limbs— “I need— need— fuck!”

She can’t put it into words— she can’t think of a way to tell him that she feels like she’s going to float away— but he understands anyway. He always understands her. In a split second her back is being pushed into the soft mattress, her head pressed into the pillow that is now soaked in his earthy musk. He does it so fluidly that he never disconnects from her, his drilling pace never slowing. His arm lands next to her head and she wraps her hand around his bicep, nails digging into his skin and drawing one more of those gasoline-meet-fire moans.

“C’mon doll—” Bucky’s hand slips between their tangled bodies, vibranium tracing down her stomach before sliding over her aching sex, pressing down harshly. “Gonna’ gimme’ one more, yeah? Gonna’ cum for me again?”

She can’t speak at all this time, only loosely nod and gasp as the pleasure rakes across her limbs. Her eyes flutter shut, unable to do anything more than squeeze her thighs around him, mouth open and mewling as his strokes get slopier, bringing him closer to his own edge right alongside her. The circling of his finger— the thrumming of the metal coming alive— and the messy jutting of his hips is enough to have her falling in seconds, bones nothing but water, limp and liquid as she folds under him. Her second orgasm, unlike her first, is cool. She doesn’t taste metal, she tastes earth and pine trees and life.

Her eyelids feel heavy— deliciously so— but still she peels them open against her orgasm to watch Bucky’s last jagged thrusts and the way he stills, hands and stomach and face clenching as he finds his own release inside her. For a moment he hovers over her, lost in what she can only assume is the same, cloudlike feeling that’s clinging to her, before collapsing on top of her, head pressing into her sweaty chest. His hands find their way under her body, palms slipping up her spine until his fingers curl around her shoulder blades, hugging her to him as his lips press against her skin. She giggles— higher than ever on dopamine and him— fingers brushing through his hair, pulling the damp strands from his forehead like she had wanted to before.

He was right— all is okay.

That’s how they stay for a while, wrapped in each other and easing off the post climax rush until Bucky’s low words breach the silent, foggy bubble.

“Maybe—” he pants, finger skimming the column of her neck— “maybe I should get shot more often. You know, if that’s the— the reward.”

“Don’t you dare.”

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #Dinner at Dizzy's

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