#plussized reader

Not really. They probably expected you to bring the food they’ll need for the little get-together Yelena and Natasha planned last minute.

Ever since you joined the little group, you became the commander of food, the one always having a snack for the hungry mob. You never let them down. You never failed them, not even once.

“Almost there,” you told yourself. If not for the surprise you planned, you’d ask one of them to help you. Walking toward the backyard, you sighed in relief. In a few moments, you could put the containers down to get the rest.

You stopped short in your tracks, hearing Thor’s loud voice boom through the air. You smirked because he was talking about your food.

“Do you think Y/N will bring food again?” The tall blonde asked. “She has the good stuff.”

“You should watch what you are eating,” his brother snapped at Thor, making you wince. “You got a little pudgy there.” He poked Thor’s belly to prove his point.

“What?” Thor huffed. “The ladies like a little cushion. They don’t mind. I can always lose weight, but you’ll always be a beanpole.”

“Guys, stop fighting before the party begins,” you heard Okoye say. She always was the one keeping the guys in line, and you admired her for her self-confidence. You chuckled because the brothers immediately stopped fighting.

“Man, I hope she doesn’t bring food. It was nice in the beginning, but she’s trying to compensate for her lack in other departments with food.” You gasped. A slap to your face would’ve been less painful. “Sometimes a man wants beer, booze, and a burger. Not a three-course meal.”

“Is anyone else annoyed about her quirkiness?” Steve was next to add another stab to your fragile heart. You always wondered why they invited you over one day and became friends with you.

“She’s always so cheerful and happy,” Clint added, making you wince. “Last time she wanted me to join her baking club only because I showed interest in eating cupcakes.”

He’s right. You’ve been very cheerful since you met them. When you moved to town and bought the little house you call your own, you didn’t have any friends. They made you so happy that you wanted to share the feeling.

Inviting Clint was your way to pay him back for helping fix your pipes. You never meant to annoy him or force him to do something he’ll hate. He told you about his girlfriend’s cravings for cupcakes during pregnancy and how he wishes to have your talent for baking.

How goes the saying? The path to hell is paved with good intentions. You should stop trying to make people happy.

“It’s the same with all the food,” Brock said. “She’s exaggerating all the damn time. Maybe it’s like with short people who are always angry. Chubby people try to be nice to buy your friendship with food and kindness.”

“That’s not fair!” Yelena muttered. Hope bloomed in your chest. At least one of your friends would come to your aid and defend you. “Not all short people are always angry.”

After that, you gave up hope. Even Yelena let you down. She didn’t talk low about you, but she didn’t defend you either. Sometimes doing nothing is worse.

You turned back around and tried to walk back to your car as fast as you could. Opening the trunk of your car, you blinked away the tears threatening to fall. It wasn’t worth crying over unwanted food and attention. You’d do what you did before—make yourself scarce to give them space.

“Y/N!” Right when you tried to enter your car and drive away, Bucky strolled toward you. He cocked his head to look inside your trunk, but you slammed it shut. “You’re early.”

“Uh—I was about to tell everyone I won’t make it this time. My boss called, asking me to help them with an urgent problem. Can you tell everyone I’m sorry?” You lied straight to his face.

Bucky watched you closely for a moment. “Are you sure? You could come around later. We will be waiting for you, Y/N.”

“No…” You cut him off, raising your hand. “I won’t make it.”

“What a bummer,” Bucky said, but you didn’t believe him. Why would you? Everyone just proved that your quirks and personality are unwanted, just like your food. “I was hoping for your infamous food.”

He rubbed his belly, but you tried your best to ignore him. Lies. Little white lies were all he told to make you feel better. You were sure about it.

“Maybe next time,” you said, giving him your best fake smile, something you mastered over the years. “I hope you all have fun…” You opened the door of your car, giving Bucky one last glance. “…without me…”

“Where’s Y/N? I thought she wanted to come around too.” Natasha looked around the garden, frowning deeply. You have never missed a get-together so far. “Has anyone seen her today?”

“I saw her when I arrived. She looked like something was bugging her.” Bucky said, confused about your behavior earlier. “Something seemed off with Y/N today. She said something about her boss calling her. I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“No food for me today,” Thor sighed deeply. He had hoped to get more of your food and maybe the recipe for the tacos you made last time. “That sucks.”

“Oh my, Y/N,” your contact from the homeless shelter was overwhelmed with joy seeing all the food you brought to them today. You’re a regular donor and always try to share with people who are in need. “This is so much, and more than you promised.”

“I made more for possible new arrivals and the volunteers. If it’s too much, you can freeze it. It’ll still taste good if you reheat it,” you murmured, ashamed that you lied to her.

“Everyone will be so happy about the food.” She wrapped you in a hug, an honest reaction to your donation. Madelyn used to be homeless in her early twenties too. She honors kindness and friendliness when facing it. “Thank you.”

“I can help today too,” you smiled through the pain your so-called friends caused. “My plans changed last minute.”

It wasn’t easy to accept that your friends didn’t like you and your quirks at all. After two weeks you decided to stop being overly excited or happy all the time.

You stayed away from them. This way, it wasn’t too hard to not be quirky around your friends or bring food to them. Not that you have been very happy since everyone talked low about you.

Today you decided to go for a little walk. You couldn’t hide from the world forever or wait for another week to shop for groceries.

Lost in your thoughts, you pushed your cart along the aisle, sighing as you ended up in front of one of your friends.

“Hey, babe! There you are!” Yelena smiled as if nothing had happened. “We have missed you. Nat told me you didn’t answer her calls.”

“I was,” you tried to come up with a lie, “very busy. My job kept me busy, and I volunteered at the homeless shelter. You know, sometimes life gets in the way.” Yelena easily bought your lie, and you excused yourself, blaming your job and saying you had to go.

Another few days later, you met Thor. He hugged you and immediately asked about your absence. He told you he’s missing you and your food. You didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

Thor was the only one talking highly about your food and you. He didn’t do anything wrong. “You will come this weekend. Right?”

“I don’t know yet,” you lied once again. Natasha, Yelena, and Okoye left messages asking you to join them for another get-together this weekend. “I volunteer at the homeless shelter and can’t turn them down. Maybe another time.”

You left, not looking back. It pained you to lie to Thor, but I couldn’t be helped…

Another get-together happened without you around. It didn’t matter any longer. Your friends had more fun without you—you were sure about it. None of them missed you, and no one ever will. You were just the annoying and quirky girl that they invited a few times, nothing else.

“Y/N,” you heard Steve call your name from across the street. He waved at you, but his smile faltered when you dropped your gaze and wrapped your arms around yourself. Steve crossed the street to talk to you, but you already tried to find a way to dismiss him. “How have you been? We missed you at the party last weekend.”

“I was busy,” you murmured, barely meeting his eyes. Steve frowned, seeing how nervous and uncertain you looked in his presence.

“Y/N, is something wrong?” You were about to answer when Clint joined the two of you.

“Y/N…hey!” He grinned, holding out his hand. “Good to see you. The gang has missed you.”

“I was about to tell Steve that I must go.” You slowly became better at lying. “You two have a good day.” You went away before one of them could say another word.

“What was that?” Clint asked, confused about your dismissive behavior. “That was so unlike her.”

“Yeah…odd,” Steve watched you walk away, a frown coloring his features. “Do you think she…heard what we said the other day?”

“We were just joking around…” Clint tried to defend the things he said about you. “I mean…uh…we all make fun of each other all the damn time. I call Loki "beanpole" and Thor "chubby Steve." I call Brock the rum guy because he can’t digest rum. Bucky is only the grump with an odd thumb because he once hit his thumb with a hammer. I’m a jokester.”

“Right….” Steve was not too sure about the jokes they made anymore. You’ve changed, and this must’ve had something to do with what they said. “I’m not sure Y/N likes being made fun of…”

“Okay. Let me get this straight.” Bucky cocked his head to look at the, in his opinion, guilty bastards chasing you away. “You complained about her food, happiness, and that she’s always kind?”

He looked at his friends, eyes narrowed while clenching and unclenching his fists. “Guys, she’s the nicest person ever. Y/N never judged one of you or raised her voice. She’s a hell of a cook and doesn’t have to be nice only because she has a nice ass.” He hummed, memorizing your ass.

“Bucky, you’re drooling,” Steve tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but Bucky didn’t let him.

“No, punk,” he was in Steve’s face, breathing hard. “You fucked up big time! All of you!” Bucky panted heavily. “Hopefully I can make things up to her.”

Bucky stormed off, cursing his friends under his breath…

“Hello, sweet lady,” Bucky stood in front of your door, two paper bags filled with groceries in his arms. “You offered to teach me how to cook some weeks ago. I came here unannounced because you wouldn’t call me back.”

“Bucky, I,” you sighed and averted your gaze. “I don’t think you want me to teach you how to cook. I know that I’m annoying and quirky. You don’t have to pretend any longer.”

“Doll!” He quickly put the groceries down to place his hands on your shoulders. “I would never lie to you or pretend to be your friend. I know the others fucked up big time with their big mouths and nothing in their brains.”

You giggled at that. “Bucky…”

“No, no…” He said. “Let me get this out first. They are idiots who talk shit most of the time, but they are sorry. We are used to talking trash about each other, even if some of us are not around. You didn’t know it then and believed we did not like you. We truly do and hope you’ll come back to us.”

He leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “You can like me more because I gave it to them good, doll.” Bucky grinned when you smiled back at him. “Right, you like Bucky more.”

“Fine, come in. We can cook together if you have time.” You opened the door wider, walking with it to let Bucky in.

“I knew you liked me better.” He kissed your cheek before entering your apartment. “Let me cook for you, doll, and later, I’ll kick their butts for you…”

"Come onn, toottsss, let me hear you," She whined as she press more kisses to your hand.

Then it would be a mission to Jinx, see if she could please you so good that you would let out a louder noise. She would spend all the time in the world to make you feel good.

But since you two have been together for some time, she knows that you are very shy when it comes to letting out noises, but she can’t help but wonder if she could coax a louder moan from you. Which leads you to a lot of rounds of endless pleasure, but when you had enough for one day, she would be slightly pouty that she didn’t get you to moan louder.

Once she finished cleaning you from all the sweat and juices, you would start blabbering about what to make for dinner, giving Jinx ideas for upgrades for machine gun, and anything that came across your mind. Jinx would giggle to herself, seeing you talk loud when just a minute ago, you were so shy while in bed.

She thought it was a bit silly, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

Sevika

You and Sevika were opposites, you were soft and talkative, while she was rough and mainly quiet. But those mannerisms are switched up when you two are in bed.

Sevika would be talking you through it, through the pleasure that her fingers would be giving you, in her rough and low voice. She would keep whispering into your ear, whispering how she wants to hear you. She wants to hear you, hear the lovely, sweet noises you let out but louder.

Sevika would hold your plush in her large hands, squeezing as she would put you in multiple positions, trying to see if she can coax a louder moan from you.

“Let me hear you,”

“A little louder,”

“Come on baby, let me hear you.. thats it,” Sevika would whisper into your ear.

But after a while with no luck for Sevika, she would give you the best aftercare without a word. It was her way of showing you that she cared.

And after she helped clean you off, she would gently keep you on top of her, letting you rest on top of her while she gently squished and rubbed your soft, plushy, plump skin.

Lest

You and Lest had very similar jobs, and thats how you grew closer. She knew that you were very chatty, a chatterbox to her, so it kind of surprised her when you were quiet when she was pleasing you in bed.

While her sharp nails trail down your plump body, her lips following right after, her ears would pick up on the softest of hums, whimpers and gasps.

Lest would spend her time leaving kisses, love bites, and maybe a few bites here and there on your skin. She would also be greedy and grab handfuls of your plush, gently rubbing and massaging it while she presses more of her marks across your body.

“Darling~,” Lest would hum. “Don’t feel shy around me.”

“Lovely~,”

“Come on dearie, let me savour you,”

Lest’s ears would twitch with every sound that comes from you and around you, extremely focused to see if she had succeeded in maybe making you a tad more vocal.

Still, Bucky can't deny that seeing you like this does things to him. Sprawled out on a cotton sheet, all your softness on display, he can't help but wonder if you accidentally fell asleep like that. Or if you planned for him to find you in this position, one leg over the armrest, the other dangling from the edge of the seat, your plush pussy directly in his view when he entered the room. Most people would assume this to be planned but Bucky knows how the heat pools between your legs, how your luxurious rolls, that keep you warm in the winter, make this heat almost unbearable and exposing your folds to cool air actually helps. Still, he could eat you up right there.

Bucky didn't miss too much from his past, personal things, yes, but he always loved to imagine the future, he actually liked learning new technology and all that, but he did think this society absolutely failed when it came to women and body image. The obsession with skinny bodies, with fitness, fixed teeth, all of that. He found it boring, empty, and meaningless. And finding you, shy at first, insecure if he really was flirting and not just making jokes, that had been exciting. Every time you dared to show more of yourself, every time he made you feel comfortable enough to forget about toxic body images and just enjoy yourself... That was a rush for him. And if he could, he would bury himself in your softness, sometimes he did. Just shoving a hand between your rolls, holding it, kneading it, knowing you were safe, happy, never had to hunger as long as he was with you.

He could spend hours describing the way your breasts moved when you trained, he even admitted that he once almost drove the car against a tree because he was distracted by the bounce of your body on the unpaved road.

"You awake, doll?" He rumbled, stepping closer. You just made a sound, half conscious, just a small sigh.

"Poor thing, let me help you.."

You never made a secret about your fascination with his arm, one thing he felt insecure about himself. But you loved it. Especially in this weather. Because it stayed cool. All. The. Time.

Bucky softly placed his metal hand on your shin, slowly moving higher, watching small goosebumps forming, until he reached the center. You were so hot. Literally. Oh he has plans for later, fun games with sensory toys, he did put your favourite toy in the fridge this morning and he is pretty sure you already noticed it. But for now he just covers your folds with his hand, relishing in your relieved sigh as you feel the cold touch.

"Hmm, welcome home, babe.." you mumble with a sleepy voice. Your body already responding, opening wider, pressing against him.

"You hungry? I made snacks, in the fridge"

So you did see the toy. "Yes, very hungry, doll. Want something sweet and soft. Snacks maybe later." He grins as he moves to kiss you. Metal hand still massaging your pussy, feeling slick building, while the other is already groping your breast, playing with your nipple.

"Are you trying to take advantage of my helpless, sweaty state?" You raise an eyebrow, teasing.

"Sweaty, sticky, messy.. but hardly helpless." he pulls the knife from under the pillow.

"uuh, don't give me ideas..." Is all you can say before he dives in for another kiss, telling you exactly what he wants to do with you.

You stiffly stand by the entrance to the carnival, checking your phone every few minutes to check and see if your ride was on their way yet. There are grinning jack-o-lanterns everywhere, leaving you feeling mocked even further. Laughter and delighted screams fill the air as the machines whir behind you, ironically mocking how you’re feeling right now. Kids and adults alike are running around in Halloween costumes; people always dress up for the fall carnival, even if it isn't technically Halloween yet. Even you had tried to be festive, putting horror pins onto your jackets and bringing a small mask to rest on your waist as an accessory. All of it to waste, you guess. There was no one there to notice. While you try to breathe, you can feel yourself fighting back tears. Despite the happy mood around you, your mind couldn't help but keep going back to that text: heyyyy sorry. we weren't able to make it after all! we ended up not feeling it, hope u get home safe  :(( <3

"Fuck this..." you mumble, pissed off as you wipe at your eyes. Glaring ahead, you  curse them out in your head while you wait for anyone to get back to you. Your friends knew you couldn't drive; they were supposed to be your ride home, for fucks sake. Shaking your head and scoffing, you lift your head up and ignore the face that you can feel tears trying to fall. .

You snap out of it when your phone begins to ring, frantically wiping your eyes before you put it up to your ear almost immediately. Assuming it's someone here to rescue you, you don't even check the caller ID. You let out a sigh as you lean against a nearby pole, greeting the person on the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello?" a voice responds, making you pause and furrow your brows. Quickly taking the phone away from your ear, you look to see that it isn't your friend but instead, an unknown caller. The voice comes through faint again, quieter now that it’s away from your ear. "Heyyy, you there?"

You shift from side to side, bringing a nail up to chew on it while racking your brain for ideas on how to get off the phone. You aren’t thrilled about the idea of staying on the phone with a stranger and your dry tone attempts to convey that. . "Yeah. Uh. Hi. Who is this? Are you looking for someone? I think you might have the wrong number."

 "What number is this? What's your name?” The voice sounds weird, you think. It's dark and raspy. It causes the hair on the back of your neck to raise, even if you can’t place why. There’s a rough crackle towards the end of his words that you don’t understand. .

"What? I don't really want to tell you that. I think you got the wrong number- fuck! Watch where you're going, dick!" You're broken out of your focused trance when a guy shoves past you and heads into the carnival, black robe and a Father Death mask shining in the light. Putting the phone back up to your ear, you apologize. "Shit. Sorry, man. There’s assholes out tonight.

The stranger laughs at that, making you stop talking but feel a bit lighter. He continues, voice unchanging and unbothered. You can hear cloth rustling from the other side of the phone. "No, no. No worries. You said I got the wrong number?"

"Yeah man. Sorry about that. It happens, right?" You shrug even though he can't see it. It makes you feel a bit foolish, but you’re also feeling much calmer with this distraction.

"Oh, all the time.” He pauses for a minute and you almost hold your breath, almost pulling the phone away to see if he hung up. “Hey. You wanna keep me company?"

“Weren’t you trying to get a hold of someone else?” Your heart quickens at the odd request, mouth stretching in distaste at the idea. Pulling your hands away from your mouth and running them through your hair instead, you "Uh. I'm not sure. Not much of a conversationalist, you know?"

"That's alright. I can do the talking. I'll make it worth your while. Not much going on for me tonight. Carnival is more boring than I thought it'd be." The voice is so nonchalant, but there's an edge to it you almost catch on to. Before you can think too hard about it, he continues. “Please? I was trying to call one of my friends. She was supposed to meet me here, but I guess she decided to stand me up.”

"Yeah? You and me both.” You snort, rolling your eyes. “You don’t have to tell me about shitty friends or shitty carnivals. ."

"You're here too, right?" The voice sounds inquiring but not surprised, the pitch not changing much. Too overwhelmed with the lights and noise, you don’t pick up on it; you simply file it away as another strange quirk the person on your phone has.

"Yeah, but hopefully not for much longer," you scoff, letting yourself smile at your shared misfortune. "Haven't even gone in yet. I was supposed to meet some people here, like you, but they ditched me. Because, you know, of course they did. I don’t know why I expected anything else. "

"Wow," the voice breathes out, playful displeasure echoing through the speaker. You feel your stomach fall and cringe. You probably shouldn't have mentioned it, and now you flush a bit in embarrassment. "They sound like a bunch of jerks."

"Well- Well I mean-” You stammer out, scrambling to defend your friends. “Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes they're okay-"

"You need any new ones?"

Freezing, you tilt your head. You laugh sharply, no amusement within it. "What? What do you mean?"

"I asked if you needed any new ones.” The guy laughs as if you're being stupid. It makes you bite your lip, face scrunching up. “We're both at the carnival. You can just… Come see me. C'monnn, it'll be fun. You can see my scary costume. I think you’ll love it. Lots of people like men in masks."

"What, some lame mask is gonna scare me? You got a fake knife, psycho killer?" When you attempt to tease back, your voice falls a little flat. You’ve never been great with banter, and the silence that stretches on the other side of the phone causes you to  doubt yourself. Anxiety forms a pit in your stomach as you begin to chew on your nails again . You're about to open your mouth to apologize when he cuts you off again. How does he keep doing that?

"Oh, don't worry. My knife's real. We could be a duo. You know, your ‘psycho killer’, and my victim. How does that sound?" The voice is amused, but the tone has shifted. The conversation has grown darker now, and you find yourself shifting your weight from foot to foot as you scan your surroundings. There’s a certain tension over the phone; it’s almost like he’s flirting. "We'll meet at the photo booth. Get some pictures of your handsome face as I gut you like a fucking pig-"

In a panic you hang up on him, staring at your phone with your mouth and eyes wide open. Trying to rationalize it, you begin to convince yourself he was joking. It was a mean prank, but not serious. It wasn’t an actual threat. You're not actually in danger. Letting out a sigh, you shove your phone in your pocket and cross your arms. Should've known some punk was just messing with you. Glaring out into the dark, you ignore the fact that you can’t get rid of the goosebumps covering your arms. 

You zone out again, jumping when your phone goes off again. Your mouth goes dry when you pull it out and realize it's the same number. Pressing the button to ignore it, you watch as  a minute later, a notification pops up and the guy immediately calls again. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you swipe and answer.

"I don't find this shit funny, man,” You immediately snap, feeling your patience thin. “I don't like being messed with on an already horrible day."

"Awww, but we were having so much fun," the voice pouts. You can almost hear the cocky grin he must be wearing, and your eye twitches in annoyance. "Why'd you hang up on me? Did I scare you?"

"You wish. Just got bored, I guess." It's a lie, and you can hear the man let out a quiet snort. It makes you narrow your eyes, almost hanging up again right then. 

"Look, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Distasteful joke. Whatever, but I meant it. Why don't you come in here and take a picture with me?" He replies, voice smooth. You can hear the speakers crackle as he moves the phone from one ear to the other. "C’mon, it’ll cheer us both up, don’t you think? I'll even keep my knife put away. Please?"

You shake your head slowly, debating on actually doing it and meeting him or running back home before he could find you. Remembering that it’s close to Halloween, you decide it really was just a shitty prank. Your boredom and curiosity overtake your common sense. Looking around anxiously one last time, you sigh and give in. "Gotta promise not to kill me, psycho. You said the photo booth?"

“The photo booth.” The voice sounds giddy, as if they're delighted you agreed. "Oh, cross my heart and hope to die. We’ll keep our hands to ourselves. See you soon."

"Yeah. See you soon.-" You bite your tongue, before nodding. His words set in and your brows furrow. "Wait, we-?"

The guy hangs up, not even letting you finish.

Your nose scrunches as that, a bit irritated that he cut you off before sighing and heading inside. You waste a couple minutes wandering around and wincing at how much louder everything sounded now. Slowly, you make your way to the photobooth; your eyes scan for any trace of your mystery guy. Eventually reaching the booth, you take a minute to breathe. Leaning against the booth, you cross your arms and people watch. Couples with children, preteens in big groups as their parents follow behind, small cliques of teens wandering around as a few sneak off to make out- no one you recognize. No one who sticks out. At least, until you see him.

A man standing perfectly still, you notice. His mask is staring directly at you, slowly tilting when he notices you staring back. Your phone rings again as you look, almost entranced. He’s wearing the same costume as the man who bumped into you: Father Death. He lifts a phone to his ear and something like a box up to his mouth. You startle when your phone rings and you quickly answer, unable to take your eyes away.

"Hey… You made it. Are you ready to take the picture?" the voice asks, not even bothering to greet you this time. There’s a difference in him now, something you can’t put your finger on. However, you know where the crackle came from; the voice changer the man is holding.

"I- I don't know." You curse yourself for your wavering voice, clearing your throat and attempting to steel your nerves when you notice the man getting closer. "I mean- You did promise not to kill me, right? Better keep your supposed knife put away when you get close to me. I won’t hesitate to scream."

“Did I? Interesting. I must like you.” Your stranger goes silent for a moment, and when he speaks again chills run down your back. "We’d never use it on you, don’t worry. There’s more fun ways to make you scream. Hey, maybe one day though, I’ll let you play with it."

“Yeah- yeah? That sounds fun,” you reply, face warming at the innuendo behind his words. The carnival has thinned out a bit due to the time, but the man is still keeping his distance. Shifting nervously, you try to figure out what’s keeping him from approaching. “Why are you still so far back? Thought you wanted to get this picture taken. What, scared of little old me?”

“Why?” He asks, still staring you down from behind the mask. “Should I be?”

“No, no.” You laugh, shaking your head and giving him a wave and a smile. “That is you, right? The guy staring at me? It’s funny. You’re wearing the same costume as that dick who bumped into me earlier.”

“Are you scared?” He quietly asks, voice taking on that inflection of darkness that he was using earlier. The tension you were feeling immediately comes back and you go a bit stiff. 

“No, of course not-” You begin, only to be quickly cut off.

“You should be.”

Your mouth grows dry as you watch the man hang up, shoving the voice changer and the phone into his pocket before speed-walking over. It makes you flinch a bit; however, you decide he’s probably pranking you again and you cross your arms. He stops a couple feet away from you, watching you intently.

“Really? Trying to freak me out again? I thought I told you I wasn’t going to put up with that shit tonight,” you scoff, glaring up at him. The person was tall, but a kind of thrill goes through you when you realize that. A shiver runs through you when you see his mask up close, thinking back to what he said earlier. Lots of people love men in masks. That includes you, apparently. “Love the mask. You were right. Give you a knife and you’d be something right out of Halloween.”

He doesn’t say anything, just giving you a shrug.  He turns away from you and puts money in the machine before pulling the curtain back for you. Glancing in and then glancing back at him, you feel a lump form in your throat before sliding in. You sit on the small bench and wince when he crams himself next to you, quickly apologizing for how much space you take up while flushing at the close proximity. Not taking his eyes off you, he reaches forward to start the camera. He doesn't speak, but motions towards the instructions, insisting that you pose.

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly as you make a stereotypical peace sign. He shakes his head, insisting you do something better. You pretend to have fainted and the camera snaps. He nods. Excited now, you pick up his hand and place it on your throat, as if he's about to strangle you. The camera snaps and you drop it, quickly apologize for grabbing him and missing the way his body shivers. For the last pose, you both just tilt your heads together and you smile, mask remaining blank.

"You're kinda quiet, yeah?" The man shrugs, getting out before opening the curtain for you again. He walks with you towards the entrance, and you relish in the comfortable silence. Letting out a sigh, you’re about to thank him before your eyes widen. Frantically patting your pockets, you reach confirmation of what you feared. "Fuuck I left my phone in the booth. I'm so sorry. I'll be right back."

The man nods and you rush off, quickly throwing the curtain open and freezing. Right there, where you were sitting, was your phone. However, the small glint of silver is what catches your eye. Shaking, you grab your phone and quickly turn away. A sick feeling in your stomach settles permanently once you realize your new masked "friend" has been carrying around some kind of hunting knife covered in what looks like fresh blood.

Relieved when you don't see him at the entrance, you check and see that someone has messaged you back about picking you up. After confirming that they’re already here, you find them and have them rush you home. Filling them in on the events of the day, your voice trails off when you notice red and blue police lights parked outside of your dorm building. Trembling, you get out of the car and stare at all the body bags being carried out. A policeman comes up to tell you they’re your roommates. Your friends. The same friends who had ditched you at the carnival earlier. The cop walks away and you’re struck numb, frantically trying to process everything. You let out a small scream when your phone rings. You already know who it is as you cover your mouth and raise the phone to your ear.

"Do you like my surprise? Thought I'd teach those friends of yours a few... manners. Hey, when were you wanting to see each other again? We really liked hanging out with you tonight. We think we’ll keep a real close hold on those pictures."

Your breath hitches in fear and you feel yourself tear up.

"We promise we’re good company.” He says, before there’s the rustling of cloth and the second voice chimes in. “We'll take your fucking breath away."

A pair of deranged laughter is all you hear before dropping your phone in shock, silencing the voices as your ears ring.

note: sorry if it ooc <3

“Who?” The barista raised an eyebrow and followed his line of sight. A smile caught his lips and he sat the finished drink on the counter. “Ohhh, beautiful she is. Why don’t I introduce you to her?” He lifted a hand to the smiling woman that had bent down to coo at the toddler of a customer close to the door. 

Once she stood, her eyes found them both at the counter. She smiled bigger as she approached. Ya couldn’t help but return the expression. As she got closer, he noticed the light catch the glint from her septum ring. “Xen. How is the world treating you today, brother?” Her full lips were glossed and he took in every word she spoke. 

“I’m doing amazing, actually. I got a workout in before my shift, I have a date tonight, and my good friend came to see me.” Xen gave a gentle tap to Yahya’s shoulder. “Yahya, meet Yana. She’s good friend of Samaria. She was a bridesmaid at our wedding.”

Yana held out a hand, meeting his eyes for the first time. Ya felt his heart skip a beat as he accepted her soft touch, losing himself in a trance. The song he was listening to earlier was hushed and on repeat. He felt like this was a scene in a movie. Her lips moved but he didn’t hear the words leaving them. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Yahya.” Her words finally broke through with a giggle. Ya snapped from his admiring with a nervous chuckle, rubbing his neck once he freed her hand. Mumbling a ‘Sorry’. 

“Uh, you can just call me Ya. If you’d like?” He grinned, standing up straight. Xen coughed to cover his laugher, getting a quick side eye from Ya. Sending him off to fix her usual order with a smirk. Yana had amusement in her eyes as he nodded, repeating the nickname. 

“Ok, Ya. I like that name. It rolls off the tongue..” She looked up at him through her lashes. “How long have you known Xen?”

“We were good friends in college. Shared an apartment together the last two years of college.” He explained. “He’s the reason I got through Calculus II.”

“He is a wizard with numbers.” She added in. Getting a theatrical bow from Xen. They all laughed as he placed her drink on the counter by Ya’s. She thanked him with an excited squeal as she paid. After declining Xen’s offer for it be on the house.  “I always look forward to my drink for the day.”

“Me too. I hate I can’t get over here more often.” Ya took a sip of his. Giving a hum of approval. “But i make sure to find time out the week to come over and visit.”

After a few minutes of conversation, the bell dinged to introduce a group of customers. Moving both Ya and Yana off to the side by themselves. She looked off for a moment and he got a glimpse of her close up. Her features were soft and he wondered if her skin felt as soft as he imagined. The scent of her perfume was soft and similar to strawberries. He loved it. 

Reacher wouldn’t leave your side, not even for a minute. He learned the hard way that there’s evil out there waiting to kill the people you love the most. Like his brother.

You didn’t see the man watching you, but Reacher did. He flexed his muscles, preparing for another fight. Reacher would do anything to protect you and your unborn child.

“Peach Pie, I want you to go over there and wait for me,” he whispers in your ear. “Wait at the checkout for me. Don’t go out alone. Stay in the spot I showed you last time, where the camera is.”

“Reacher, you’re scaring me. Is something wrong?” You nervously look up at Reacher, afraid he’s about to start a fight. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“I only need to talk to someone.” He kisses your cheek, lips lingering, before he turns to walk toward the man watching you earlier.

“Reacher,” you murmur, but follow his order. Walking toward the checkout, you look left and right, trying to find out if someone is following you.

Reacher reaches the man, staring him down with angry eyes. “Can I help you with something? Do you have a reason for staring at my pregnant girlfriend?”

“Uh—no…” The man stammers, already shaking in fear. Reacher’s size alone scares the man, but your boyfriend is fucking beefy too. “I…I thought … I saw my ex-girlfriend. We dated in high school. Please, I don’t want trouble.”

The man raises his hands in surrender, but Reacher doesn’t buy his story. You told Reacher everything about your past relationship and even showed him some pictures. The gun the man tries to hide doesn’t help.

“I know what you think—” Reacher dips his head to look the man in the eyes. “You are asking yourself if you can get your gun out faster than I can break your neck.”

The man swallows thickly. This wasn’t the plan. “I don’t want trouble. This has nothing to do with you.”

“You were staring at my girlfriend. This has everything to do with me,” Reacher hisses at the man. “We can do this the easy way. You put the gun down and walk away—or you try to get it out and see what happens.”

Sweat runs down the man’s temple. He doesn’t know why he caught Reacher’s eye, but now it’s too late. “I was looking for a hostage if anything goes wrong. She’s pregnant, and I thought the cops would do anything if I had a pregnant woman as a hostage.”

“Why?” Reacher stares the man down, trying to end the confrontation without violence. “Do you need money? Robbing a grocery store isn’t the smartest move, don’t you think? Give me the weapon, and I’ll let you walk out of here on your own legs.”

The man scoffs. “This isn’t about money. I’ll not let her get happy with some other man! She took my children and ran only because my hand slipped once or—”

Reacher sees red. He lunges at the man, his big hand wrapping around the man’s throat. He slams him into the ground, holding him there.

“She left you because you were an abusive asshole.” Reacher growls. “You won’t lay hands on her or the children. A man should protect his family, not terrorize them.”

“Reacher,” you softly say, but Reacher doesn’t hear you. You want to tell him you already called the police, but he tightens his hold on the man’s throat, squeezing hard. “The police will be here any moment. They will arrest him.”

“—and then they’ll let him go. He will come back and finish what he started,” Reacher hisses at the cops storming into the grocery store. The man’s ex-wife was shaking in fear, and you immediately knew Reacher saw the man first. “He wanted to use you as his shield. I won’t let him hurt them again.”

“Sir, we’ve got it handled,” one of the deputies says, earning a scoff from Reacher. “Mr. Reacher, your girlfriend is worried about you. Let us handle this.”

“He’s got a gun,” Reacher says, looking at the man pinned to the ground. “He tried to kill his ex-wife. What are you going to do about it? He didn’t succeed because I stopped him.”

“Sir…we…” The deputy stammers. He doesn’t want to tell Reacher the truth. “We will try our best.”

“Try harder.” Reacher releases the man’s throat, slowly getting back up. He looks down at the man, his features darkening. “If they don’t stop you, I will. I know your face now. Get close to your wife and children again, and I’ll be there.”

You hold your breath when Reacher steps back. He glances at you, silently telling you to get away from the cops and the man.

You don’t hesitate and hurriedly walk back to the checkout to wait for Reacher. Wringing your hands, you watch the cops arrest the man. Reacher looks tense when they bring the man out. He knows this isn’t the end.

“Reacher, don’t do this again! I was so worried about you!” You scold again. “You are tall and strong, not bulletproof. What if that man used his gun? You could’ve died.” Choking out a sob, you run your hand over your belly.

“Peach Pie, I’m sorry.” Reacher gently touches the hand on your belly, squeezing it. “I just reacted. My instinct told me the man was up to no good. It was the way he looked at you.”

“Just…never do this again. I can’t lose you.” Reacher wraps his arms around you, holding you against his chest. “Please don’t go away.”

“I won’t. Never…”