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germworms · 11 months

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Etho's unexpected face reveal

A shortfic of Bdubs accidentally seeing Etho's face on call.

Wordcount: About 1400 words.

Pairing: Etho&Bdubs Platonically

RPF

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"I'll see you guys later!"

As he stopped recording, he leaned back in his chair. Through his headset he could hear his friends chatting away, about some random topic. He heard snippets of redstone talk, and that made him zone out. He double checked to see if he had stopped recording, which he had.

"Bdubs!" Someone yelled into his ear, making him jump up.

"Argh! What!" He asked, he moved his mouse around to find whoever scared him, rubbing his eyes. "Oh, hello, Etho."

"You tired?" Etho asked, his avatar sneaking in front of him, up close. He was laughing a bit, his own voice an octave lower. A sign of tiredness from the canadian.

He yawned, "Not at all, I gotta edit my video tonight too."

"Awh, you need motivation?" Etho asked, punching him in the game, "I'll be your ear worm."

"Thanks, you are a sweetheart."

"Yeah, I'll go take a quick washroom break, be right back."

"...Washroom." He mumbled, "Crazy man." He couldn't help but smile, he never could stop smiling when talking to him.

Someone walked into the room, hovering above him while wrapping their arms around his shoulders, "I'm headed to bed, the girls are asleep."

He turned his head to kiss his wife, "I'll finish up my editing and join ya', honey."

She closed the door behind her, smiling before closing it all the way.

He turned in his chair, opening up discord to check when the next hermit meeting would be. He saw Etho in the voice channel and joined, knowing that Etho liked to listen to music through Mee6. A big picture of a room showed up suddenly, his heart dropped.

Should he tell him? How would he even tell him, he was pissing right now! No use in calling for him.

He should have turned a blind eye, gone out of the voice group, but he was a tad too nosey for his own good.

His friend for over a decade, his faceless friend who he had never met. An internet friend whom he had spent countless hours talking to.

They had talked about meeting up 5 years ago, and then again yearly since then, but then Covid spread around right as they finally started making realistic plans. Everything got cancelled and they stopped talking about it. Etho stayed in his apartment alone, and he had his family he needed to take care of.

So as he watched, silently, and listened to every sound, a door closing made him jump. Footsteps.

First comfortable black pants, then the bottom of a black hoodie, "Bdubs I'm back."

He felt his heart speed up, the anticipation, not even Beef knew about this. He felt guilty already, he had seen more than enough, "Etho!"

A face became visible on the screen, a head full of brownish blackish hair, quite skinny face, clean shaven. His eyes were tired, but nonetheless, he was handsome. He gulped, "Uh, uhm."

"What did you do, silly?" He heard minecraft sounds, forgetting all about the game. Etho was probably wondering why he was standing so still, listening to him through the game and not through discord.

He couldn't stop staring, he felt like a sinner. Like this was more embarrassing to admit than when his parents had walked in on him as a teen, than his first kiss with a girl and with that boy in elementary.

An embarrassed blush crept up on him, "Bdubs, are you okay?"

Ethos mouth moved while he talked, of course, but seeing a face to a voice he wasn't even supposed to see made him speechless. The way he said his name made his heart skip in a way he hadn't felt in a long time maybe because he could see every syllable from Etho now.

"I- uh, ugh, your-" He coughed, watching how confusion spread across Ethos face. He noticed how Ethos posture was quite poor, "You should check your posture."

"Oh, thank you."

There was a moment of silence, "Hold on."

"Bdubs!!!" Etho's camera was quickly turned off, "You! What! You should have told me!! I- I don't know what to say!"

"Well!" He started, "I mean! Your handsome! Pretty! I mean, you're very- what I mean- I'm sorry!" He stumbled over his words, not knowing how to react. "I'll turn- I'm gonna turn on my face cam!"

He turned it on, forgetting how his face was completely red in embarrassment, "Oh god." he noticed, "It's the lighting!"

He let his words die out. Should he hide away?

"Are you angry?" He asked in a small voice.

"Angry? I- I don't know... A bit, I guess. I trust you, of course, but this has become a big deal for me, my face. I mean, you were gonna see it one day, I wanted that time to be special." Etho said, his voice became weary. "Be happy I actually wore clothes."

"I wouldn't be un-happy so to say."

"You- You're something else, man!"

Bdubs eased up, "I know, baby."

Etho took a long breath, he could hear the gears turning in his head, not knowing what he was planning. Who knew what that man was thinking anyways.

"You get ONE time of facetime, okay?"

He hadn't expected a sudden meet and greet, "Really?"

"Just make a private call, I don't want any of the other hermits joining, Gem will be so mad at you by the way." Ethos voice quieted down.

All hope of a session of editing went out the window, as he pulled up his private chat on discord with Etho, the last message read, 'U up for mc?'

He clicked the call button, "I'm calling! Okay! It's happening!"

Etho chuckled once, "Well, you already saw my face, WITHOUT me knowing, stalker."

"I'm sorry, okay?"

The call was picked up, eyes staring directly at him, while his mind blanked out, "Uh- hi."

"You're so RED, man!" Etho laughed at him, his whole face full of laughter, a mix of nervousness and excitement.

"I am?" He felt his face, "Well, don't blame me! You're pretty handsome, not more than me, though." He lied, of course Etho would be good looking, he could feel it in his guts from the moment he met him. Beauty followed the soul.

"Don't sell yourself short... Literally." Etho began cracking up again, going off screen to laugh.

"Oh, FREAKING funny, huh! I can prove I'm 5'10!"

"Stand up for me, then." Etho said, showing back on screen to stare directly at him. Making him nervous.

He halted in his action to stand up, "I don't take commands from you! You should trust my words."

"Oh, so now you don't wanna do what I say? Sounds like someone isn't as tall as they say they are, hmm, Bdubs?"

His heart skipped a bit, "I- I uh, I am." His voice more quiet now.

"You okay?"

He had to look away, "Nothing! I'm fine! Can you uh, say my name again?" He spoke the last part quickly, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

Ethos face scrunched, "What?-" His voice high, but then he spoke, "Bdubs? BdoubleO? John? Which one?"

He coughed, "Uh! Thank you! That's all, I wanted you to look stupid! Okay, Ha! Yeah.." Hearing his name from Etho was always something he enjoyed, but from Etho AND his face was something else entirely. He was comfortable with his sexuality, of course. He had always been open to girls and boys, and he fell in love with his wife the first time they met.

When he met Etho, he started wondering how his life would be if he had married a man. A thought for the dreamers, a thought he wouldn't make a reality, because he loved his life. He loved his children, his wife, his job.

He loved Etho as much as he could too.

"You like when I say your name?"

As much as a friend could love him, perhaps he never saw them as only friends, but also not as lovers. His wife knew about Etho, how could she not? And she adored him as well. They would frequently put an Etho lets play in the background when making dinner, laughing at the commentary. His wife never had any problems with, what Cleo would call, his obsession.

"You do, you weirdo." Etho said, leaning back, "Can you say my name?"

"Etho." His eyes scanned the screen, the face for any reaction.

A smile spread across Ethos face, he scuffed, "Yeah, okay."

A small pause between them and then a strange question, "Should I buy a better webcam for you?"

"For me?"

"You're the only one who gets to see me, mind I add, maybe HD is better for you." Etho said with a slight smile in his tone, "Anything for you."

In their years together, Etho had picked up on his adorations for him, and he had never said anything about it. Slowly, after a long time, it became their normal.

"You should get some rest, Bdubs."

"I should."

His head was tilted while the two men stared at each other, Etho said in a low voice, "This is kinda nice."

"Yeah, it really is."

#Ethubs #Ethubs fic #hermitshipping #Etho bdubs

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raidenssblog · 5 months

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love behind bars

pairing: adult ! toph x criminal male reader

genre: normal or fluff

warning: mention of scars, reader is slightly tanned and is a earth bender mentioned.

summary: after stealing for a bit you end up getting chucked in jail, but a certain someone makes you exited to get out.

A/N: this was heavily based off of this fic. i love the concept between a officer and a criminal. ive also go no idea where the hold the people in republic city jail so I'm just going to say the cells are a level under. idrk

not proof read because ive been staring at this damn screen for hours and the words are blurring into each other.😭😭

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keys jingling on her hip knock with every step she took. she walked down the steps and made her way down to the far end of the hall that was full of different criminals, before turning to a cell door and unlocking it.

"well, what do I owe the pleasure to be seen by the chief~" you say getting up from your bed and standing near the cell bars watching her lock the door from the inside. "nothin' just wanted to talk. I'm sorry I haven't seen you in a while, been busy" she said taking a seat on the bench Infront of your cell.

"I mean you've never really seen me" you chuckle, "get it. cus your, you know, blind. sorry." you still chuckle a bit before sliding down the bars. A small huff like laugh left toph as she rested her head on the bars, you sat there in a comfortable silence.

You perk up when she sighed, " hey m/n, can I ask you something?" toph asks turning to face your direction. "You know you don't have to ask, what's on your pretty ol' mind chief?" you reply, turning to face her as well, now sitting cross legged.

toph held a small smile on her face "what do you look like, well i know the basic structure of your face, but what do you look like. scars? birthmarks?" she asks, her eyebrows scrunched a little in the middle.

a bit taken aback you blink a few times before answering her. "oh uh w-well where do I start?" cursing yourself for stuttering, "your eye colour" she quickly replies.

"I have y/e/c eyes and y/h/c hair, I'm tanned and have a scar on my right shoulder from when I was a kid, my brother pushed me downhill and my torso snagged on a sharp rock, and it ripped me open from my ribs to my shoulder. nasty stuff that was." the feeling slight coming back to you as you described it.

"geez" toph replied, eyebrows now raised. "you've never told me about that one m/n?" she said crossing her arms. you laugh, standing up and stretching your arms. "yeah well I though you could feel it when you ran your hands up my back the last time you were here~" flashes of what went down ran through your head, almost every time she visits, you always end up in a make out, without fail.

"Now, you be quiet" she said flicking a small rock at your chest. you stuck arms trough the bars and pulled her close. "and i didn't feel a scar on you last time we met" she said leaning in close. "well~ maybe you could feel it better after i get out of this cell and with you in bed?~" she laughed and closed the gap between your lips. "Shut up!' she said hitting your chest through the bars smiling.

oh how bad I want to get out of here you thought, looking at her.

#reader insert #x male reader #male reader #toph beifong #atla toph #legend of korra

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thespineoftherighteous · 2 years

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can i ask you to elaborate on matt's mom finding aaron as her favorite fox? it's been a while since i read the books

YES i can. i got so excited to answer this because it's such a scrumptious concept to me

in the books there isn't much between them, besides the fact that Matt's mother (Randy) pays Aaron's bail and Aaron spends Christmas with her in New York (which happens off screen so there could've been loads that happened then).

but there is this scene in the EC where Aaron chalks up the strength to go up to Randy and thank her when she comes to Palmetto to watch a game. (this is from a draft where Aaron and co don't spend Christmas break with Matt, so this is the first time Aaron actually meets her. this scene could have easily still happened though, just in NY, and i consider it canon.) and there's this. fucking wholesome as fuck moment where she hugs him until he sinks into it and tells him that she's proud of him and calls him family and i think, EC or not, it's genuinely one of my favorite scenes in the entire series:

It took Aaron most of Thursday afternoon to work up the courage, but he finally approached Randy at the end of practice to thank her for paying his bail. Neil was in charge of the stick rack and ball buckets today, but he deliberately slowed down his work to eavesdrop. Aaron's gratitude was the stilted mess of a man not used to admitting when he was wrong.

Randy looked a bit baffled, then recovered enough to stress, "You gave me back my son. Do you understand? There is nothing I can do to make that up to you."

Aaron was honest enough to say, "That wasn't my decision."

Randy reached for him, but Aaron flinched at the first brush of her fingers against his shoulders. Aaron recovered quickly, but the damage was already done. Randy's smile vanished and the look she gave Aaron was heavy enough to make Neil uncomfortable ten feet away.

Last summer Neil had recoiled from Wymack much the same way, so certain of being hurt for his transgressions and stupidity. For months his stomach had knotted a bit every time Wymack raised his voice at practice. Even as recently as January Neil willfully told himself Wymack's concern was anger because fear of older men was a powerful enough motivator to get Neil through his second thoughts and nightmares.

Only now did Neil understand that a person could fear an older woman the same way. Neil's mother had hit him and screamed at him, but she'd always been on his side. She'd always been his mother first. He'd known Aaron's mother was abusive, had heard it from Nicky and had it affirmed by Andrew back in November. He'd thrown it in Aaron's face knowing it would hurt, but somehow he'd still always thought it a different matter. Neil couldn't imagine a world where mothers weren't actually mothers.

Neil finally understood, though he didn't know if it was stupidity or prejudice that had blinded him this long. Cass Spear could have been Andrew's mother once. These days Andrew leaned on Betsy Dobson. Aaron, on the other hand, never had anyone to fill that role. Aaron wouldn't let the Foxes in because of Andrew, but he couldn't let Nicky in because he didn't know how. He'd gotten this far in life on his own, surviving on willpower and sheer desperation.

For a moment Neil thought Randy would take offense at Aaron's reaction and walk away. Instead she slowly raised her hands to Aaron's face and cradled his cheeks in her hands.

"Hey," she said, more subdued than she'd sounded all day but somehow still hard with conviction. "I'm so proud of you. Do you hear me? I'm so proud of you. You did what you had to do to defend your family, and tomorrow you're going to do whatever it takes to defend our family. Okay? It's going to be okay."

Aaron stared back at her, silent and frozen. Randy nodded at whatever she saw on his face and made a slow attempt at hugging him. Aaron didn't fight her off, and Randy held on until Aaron finally relaxed.

for a second i was going to take out some of Neil's commentary but i actually think it's good in showing how much this actually fucking means. his perception alone implies that Randy could be so much more to Aaron

anyway. that's as far as canon takes you but i believe that their relationship grows over the years, one way or another. grows into something that is very good for Aaron, something he needs. i also believe that Matt and Aaron get closer (I've got a wholeee post on that i think tho) and that either helps or is helped by Aaron and Randy's relationship. given the logistics they probably don't interact face to face often (maybe NY Christmases become a thing though) but that doesn't matter. Aaron has someone in his corner, not Nicky or Coach or Katelyn but someone just far enough outside the vortex of PSU to maybe take on a little bit of the weight he's always had to carry, maybe ease the solo war against the world that he's been fighting every day of his life.

#fuck rereading that scene is actually making me like. emotional or some shit #sorry if this is more than what you wanted #i don't think I know how to talk about Aaron and be normal..#as if it's my fault #aaron minyard #aftg #randy boyd #🦊✉️

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creepling · 1 year

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✒️ - “making fun of them for their favourite (movie/book/etc) then (watching/reading/etc) it because of them and ending up loving it” + johnny <3

(congratulations on 1k you’re writing is so immersive and the characterisation is always SO on point you deserve every note and follower <33)

omg anon thank you sm, that is so sweet. i love this prompt so much because i have been wondering what type of movies and books johnny would be into. hope you like the result<33

tags: ment of a clockwork orange. canon-set in 1974. johnny is smoking and gets a lil pissy at reader

"Surely you go to the cinema now and then," You scoff after Johnny admits he wasn't one to watch many movies.

"Nah, don't like 'em," He shrugged, resting his feet on the porch fence, and he swung on his chair. You watch as he draws his cigarette, shaking your head in amazement.

"Have you ever seen a movie in your life?" You tease, shading your eyes from the blazing sun.

Johnny frowned and exhaled the smoke from his mouth, "Of course, I have, dumbass. I'm not that stupid."

"Well, what's the best movie you've seen so far?" You ask, leaning back on the fence, your blinded eyes adjusting to Johnny's face.

He thought for a good while, sucking his cheeks and staring into space. "A Clockwork Orange," He blankly answered, returning to smoking his cigarette.

Your eyebrows knit in inquisitiveness. You have heard of it; it came out a few years ago. But everyone you know who saw it said it was disturbing, so you did not go and see it. "Isn't that the British one with a lot of violence in it?"

Johnny shrugged, "It wasn't that bad,"

You scoff out a laugh. "Trust the bad boy to like a movie with a lot of violence in it," You tease, earning a glare from him.

"You asked me my favourite movie, and I told you. Now you wanna get at me for it?" Johnny's defensiveness took you aback, causing you to laugh nervously.

"I'm only joking, Johnny. Damn, calm down." You say, but Johnny was already storming back inside the house. You took that as your message to leave and sulk back to your car.

In the week you were away from the Slaughter yard, you took the time to go to a midnight screening of A Clockwork Orange, thinking you owed Johnny some gratitude for teasing him. Once you left the cinema, you were amazed. Sure, it was violent, very violent. At times, you shielded your eyes from the screen. But for Johnny to like it, it was surprisingly visualistic. It was grotesquely beautiful.

The next day, you visited Johnny, approaching the porch like a dog with its tail between its legs. You were curious to know if Johnny was mad at you as he gave you a blank stare like he always does. In the same position, smoking a cigarette, you walk up to him and stand by his side.

"I saw that movie you like the other day," You begin, looking for his reaction.

He glances at you, keeping to himself. You lean down and wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your head.

"It was terrific," You confess. Johnny's shoulders shifted as he chuckled. "What?"

"Trust you to tease me for liking a movie and end up likin' it yerself," He said amusingly, leaving a peck on your arm. At his return to affection, you smiled and hugged him tighter.

"I kinda wanna see it again. Maybe we should go together?" You suggest.

Johnny smirks as he rubs your arm and pulls you closer, "Sounds like a date."

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny sawyer x reader #tcm game #anon #creepling.1k

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 7 months

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Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 36

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2373

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: King Of My Heart Beautiful Drug

****

Ghost

Standing at the threshold of Hangman's apartment turned out to be even more daunting than anticipated. Staring at his door, Ghost thought grimly: I really should've figured out what to say before I got here. But there's no turning back now. Here goes nothing.

Her hand thudded heavily on the wooden door. She waited impatiently for a few seconds before knocking again. Once more, nothing. Ghost sighed, figuring he wasn't answering because it was her. She knew he was home; otherwise, his blinds wouldn't be raised. Unless he had headphones in while he worked out... that was a good possibility.

Ghost hesitated, grabbed hold of the doorknob, and twisted it. The door opened without resistance.

"Guess some things really never do change." Ghost stepped inside and set her backpack on the floor, calling out, "Hangman? You home?"

Noise in the back of the apartment caught her attention.

Please don't let there be a girl here...

"Hangman?" Ghost called out again, slowly walking toward the noise. She warily poked her head into the bedroom. "Jake, are-"

"Fuck!" Hangman's voice boomed to her right, and she jumped to face him. Staring at each other like startled deer, Ghost's eyes trailed down his glistening body, water droplets rolling down from his shoulders to his abdomen to his-

Ghost whirled around, cheeks flush from embarrassment and silent awe at what she'd seen. Meanwhile, Hangman hurriedly wrapped a towel around his waist and demanded, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you," Ghost replied, wincing at how stupid the words sounded coming out of her mouth.

"And you couldn't have called?"

"Would you have picked up?"

His irked silence gave her the answer. "That's what I thought."

"So you thought waltzing in here was a good idea?"

"I always told you to keep your doors locked before someone unsavory person walked in." I just never thought I'd fall into that category...

"Did you come here to tell me 'I told you so,' or is there another reason?" he snapped. Hangman moved to his dresser, pulling out fresh clothes.

"We need to talk. I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready."

"You're going to be waiting a while."

"Fine. I have nothing else planned today anyway."

Turning on her heel, Ghost exited the bedroom and strode to the kitchen. The bedroom door slammed shut behind her. If Hangman thought his rude demeanor and behavior would dissuade her from talking and persuade her to leave, he was vastly mistaken. Ghost opened her backpack and pulled out the box of letters, setting them on the kitchen island, pristinely clean like the rest of Hangman's apartment.

He took his sweet time getting ready, so Ghost contented herself with rereading the letters as a reminder of why she'd come here as the stress of the impending talk began to loom over her more and more.

Relax. We'll work this out. It'll be fine. Perfectly fine. We'll-

Her affirmations were cut off by her ringing phone. Glancing at the screen, she saw her mom's name. Ghost frowned and silenced the call. Not right now. The drama over Maverick being her dad could wait until later when she was emotionally capable of handling it. She was dealing with enough at the moment.

"One existential crisis at a time," Ghost mumbled to herself while she silenced the second call from her mom. A third call came in, but this time, from an unknown number. Either Charlie was borrowing someone's phone to try and reach her, or a new person was trying to call her. Curiosity got the better of her, and Ghost answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, Annalise."

The voice sent ice running down her veins. She shouldn't have answered. "What do you want, Kyle?"

"To talk."

"Did Hangman's threats not get through that thick skull of yours?" Ghost snarled, bracing herself on the counter to keep her hand from shaking. Something about his eerily calm tone set her on edge.

"Either you tell me where you are so I can come talk to you, or I will find you," Kyle said, "and I will not be alone."

"Come anywhere near me, and I will get that restraining order in place." Movement out of the corner of her eye caught Ghost's attention. Hangman walked in, throwing a shirt on, staring at her in concern. He must've heard the last bit of the conversation. She mouthed 'Kyle' to him, and his expression went livid. Without a word, he held out his hand, and Ghost placed her phone in it.

"If you call my girl one more time-" Hangman growled, his lip curling involuntarily- "there will be hell to pay. I have a lot of pent-up rage right now, and I'd love nothing more than to use you as my personal punching bag."

My girl. The declaration sent shivers down Ghost's spine, even though she understood he only said it as a way to deter Kyle from reaching out to her again. Ghost had learned long ago that some men respected another man's claim on a woman more than the woman's outright denial of him.

Kyle said something else, and judging by the murder in Hangman's eyes, it was nothing good. Ghost's suspicion was confirmed when he snarled, "Do not touch her, or I'll make you wish you were dead."

Hangman hung up after that and returned the phone to Ghost, who asked, "What did he say?"

"I'm not going to repeat it, but... be careful. Kyle's obsessed with you, and he's with Nick now. He has backup if he decides to confront you. Just... be on guard."

"It's good he doesn't know where I live then."

"Don't underestimate Nick's abilities. Even if you've blocked your address from being found by normal methods, if he wants something, Nick will find it." Hangman opened his mouth as if to add more but shut it and moved away from Ghost. He opened a kitchen cupboard and pulled out a glass, filling it with water. "So, why did you barge in here?"

"To talk. About everything. Including-" Ghost slid the box to him- "these."

The color drained from Hangman's face. Deathly quiet, he queried, "How did you get those?"

"It doesn't mat-"

"Yes, it does! You weren't supposed to read these! Where the hell did you-" The epiphany suddenly dawned on him- "Coyote. God... damn it!"

He swiped at the glass of water, sending it flying across the kitchen and shattering against the wall. Shards scattered everywhere, and Ghost might've been concerned about the sudden show of rage had Hangman not suddenly sagged against the counter, shaking.

"How much did you read?" he asked, deceptively calm.

"I didn't intend to read any of them at first since you hadn't been the one to give them to me. Then I decided to read the first one," Ghost admitted guiltily, hating how much this appeared to be affecting him. "And then I couldn't stop. I read all of them."

Hangman scoffed. "They were the ramblings of a delusional aviator. I don't see what was so riveting in them," he replied, heading to a closet and grabbing a broom and dustpan. "You shouldn't have read them. They weren't meant for you."

"Then why were you addressing them to me?"

"Because maybe it started out that way, and it was the closest I could come to telling you what was on my mind without actually burdening you with it."

Ghost shook her head. "We'd been friends for years, Jake. Burdens aren't meant to be carried alone. Your burdens were mine, and vice versa."

"My burdens stopped being yours when I killed you and Ghoul!" He snapped, furiously brushing the shards of glass into the dustpan. She waited for him to finish the chore before she spoke, mainly because she wasn't sure what to say next. Hangman, however, decided he hated her silence and asked a question of his own. "What are you doing? Why are you still coming after me when I told you to leave me alone?"

"Because I told you once that you were stuck with me. Yes, we had a fight. Yes, it was a nasty one, and in our grief, we fractured our friendship. We both had parts in it. You tried to mend it early on, but I was stupid and ignored you. I'm sorry it took me this long to realize the demons you were facing in the aftermath of it. I'm sorry, Jake," Ghost said earnestly, finally taking a step toward him.

"Why do you care so much about fixing us after all this time?"

"Because I loved you back," Ghost replied, sliding his last letter over to him. "Unequivocally, unabashedly, wholeheartedly, I loved you."

I still love you.

At the echo of his written word rolling so easily off her tongue, Hangman's green eyes searched her face, scanning for any lies and deception. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I need you to understand that as long as I'm around, you are not alone in this world. That you will always have someone willing to pull you out of that darkness."

"I don't want to have this conversation, Ghost."

"I don't care. It needs to happen. It's needed to happen for a long time now."

"You should go."

Ghost stood her ground. "No."

His nostrils flared, and he pointed firmly at the door. "Go."

"On one condition."

"This is not a negoti-"

"Do you love me?" Ghost interrupted, stepping toward him again.

"What?" The question took him aback, and he shook his head. "That's not-"

"Do you love me?" Ghost repeated.

"I can't do this, Annalise. We can't-"

She would not be deterred. "Tell me you don't love me, and I will walk out that door right now and never return. I will give you what you want. But first, you have to tell me that you don't love me."

It was a dangerous game she played. For all Ghost knew, Hangman would tell her those dreaded words, and then she'd have to follow through with her promise, even if it killed her to do it.

Hangman took a step back from her, shaking his head. "Annalise, please, I can't- I'm trying to protect you. Why can't you see that?"

"Protect me from what? What do I need protection from? Why won't you answer my question about if you lo-"

"Just stop. Please, stop asking-"

"Is this because you're afraid I won't love you back?" Ghost stared him down, challenging him to answer. When her question was met with silence, she decided to finally reveal the truth that she'd been lying to herself about since the accident that had torn them apart. At the risk of having her last guard wall between them torn down, if it meant she got him to answer, then she'd do it. She'd do anything for him. "Because I do. I love you, Jake."

Hangman froze, the genuineness of her statement crashing over him as his gaze searched her face once more for the lie, but he wouldn't find one. All he would see were the tears welling in Ghost's eyes as she said, "I love you, Jake. I love you so much that if leaving is what you truly want me to do, then I will. If you tell me you do not love me, I will walk out that door without another word or argument. I will do as you wish, and we- we can live our separate lives and be cordial to each other when social situations are required, but I will not talk to you during those times or contact you outside of them. I will find a way to live my life without having the hope that one day, you will once again be in it. But first-" Ghost closed the distance between herself and Hangman, heart and head aching in terror at what his words would be to her request- "you need to tell me that you do not love me."

"Annie, I..." Hangman gulped, and Ghost could've sworn his entire body shook. "I'm a danger. To you, to everyone who-"

"That wasn't my question," she said sharply. "Do you love me?"

"I'm cursed! You don't deserve a life with a man who could get you killed or a guy who was so weak that he thought jumping into the black waves would solve all his issues. You deserve-"

"Jake!" Annalise exclaimed in exasperation, grasping his forearms firmly. "I will decide what type of man I deserve! And I will be the barrier between you and the black waves when they try calling for you to jump into them again. I will stand with you through the good and the bad. Just tell me: do you love me?"

"I love you!" Jake burst, chest rising and falling rapidly at the emotion he loosed. He broke from her grasp, clasping his hands behind his head as he walked away from her. Hangman took a few deep breaths, calming himself, before facing Ghost and closing the distance between them. He cupped her face, and in the gentlest of voices, he said, "Annie, I have loved you from the moment you tried to take my head off with your guitar. I never said anything because I did not want to drag someone as bright and full of light as you down with me into my darkness. I wanted you to find someone who deserved you, and I never saw myself as that man."

I love you. I love you. I love you. The words rang loudly in her head, and Ghost couldn't quite believe she was finally hearing them fall from his lips after all this time. She covered her hands with his, unable to tear her gaze from her sparkling green eyes.

"You-" Hangman began, kissing her brow- "have bewitched me- body and soul- since the day I met you, and I love you."

Ghost smiled at the reference to her favorite film. She tilted her head up to brace her forehead against his. "Forever?"

Without hesitation, without stumbling or missing a beat, Hangman replied, "And always."

Ghost closed the gap between their lips, and no more words needed to be said.

****

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luckyshotwrites · 2 years

Text

Ch. 33 // We’re Both Idiots! // Day 22

Contents (Warnings): soft teasing, character shenanigans, a little tiny sprinkle of angst, more character information, and further monster/magic explanations. (THIS IS GOING TO HAVE SIX PARTS, JEEZ).

Wordcount: 3425

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

(Oct. 7th Friday)

He’s less threatening at this height. I thought walking beside Alexander sheepishly. I could feel the waves of his agitation lashing about. He doesn’t even look that hurt. Maybe Lev didn’t hit him as hard as I thought.

He inhaled then side-eyed me. “Do humans normally stare this much?”

I wish I was blind. “You stare at me all the time and I never make comments on it.” I muttered.

He huffed. “I don’t.”

“You do.”

He flicked his head to fully look at me, “if you’re giving me permission to do more than stare-”

I stopped him, shaking my head profusely to shake all the terrible thoughts from my ears. “I was looking at you because I thought you might be really hurt because from where we were it looked like Lev hit you really hard.”

Alexander scowled.

NOW HE’S MAD BECAUSE HE THINKS I WAS CALLING HIM WEAK?! I shouted in my head. Not that I should have been surprised, communication with him was almost impossible.

Lev chimed in, looking back and away from his phone, “he’s a wendigo, they can take it.”

“Yeah,” Alexander muttered, rubbing his jaw. “My jaws still a little sore, fucker.”

Are games like that common? I asked myself.

We walked by several others, some of them looked harmless, fishing, dancing, and a weird game that looked like twister, except a team of two was going up a tube with backs to one another and coordinating the colors trying to beat another team doing the same in another tube. That looks like rock climbing while having a back buddy. I bet Wicks and I could rock it. I said in my head with a smile.

My vision floated to some of the people wearing onyx colored chains, or those carrying small idols that looked like cute cubi characters.

They apparently came with mini comics that I wanted to grab, but I refrained. Charletta would love that too. I couldn't risk bringing them something magic though, plus I feared Wicks might try to look up whatever I got him. He’s already suspicious. I usually tell him everything. I exhaled, and now I've kept him in the dark. I hope I'm not hurting him.

“Lynette?”

I snapped out of it, seeing Drake aiming at my pocket as my phone rang for Wicks. It was the empty knight home screen song since that was the only game he played and liked.

I frantically got it from my pocket. Speak of the devil.

I let the others walk further ahead. Alexander kept a steady eye on me regardless.

“H-hey!” I answered.

“The hotel room you sent me looks nice and huge.” Wicks said.

I had to stand up on a chair when I took a picture of our room, and left Alexander’s side out of my pictures. His bed was far too big.

“It is nice,” I said. I tried to push off the subject. “And-uh-how are things going for you? Have you been keeping busy?”

Wicks grumbled, “yeah. A lot of my other coworkers are at a larger job right now so I’m picking up some of their slack with these smaller ones.” He then popped with worry, “I’m sorry if you were working, Lentils!”

“No, no, I’m not too busy.”

“Great…” Wicks trailed off again.

“What’s been on your mind, you've been acting really funny with me.”

My anxious heart tugged as his end was quiet for a good minute or two. His voice rose from the silence.

“Charletta’s getting married in a month, can you believe that?”

He said, I smiled out of nervousness, “I know, it’s surreal isn’t it?” I chuckled with a light release, “I was thinking about you both today when my coworkers bullied me upon seeing my sick fashion sense.”

Wick’s cheerful voice entered, “OH SHOOT! LENTILS!” He sounded like he strangled the receiver as his volume went back and forth for a minute. “I sh-OU-ld HA-ve PA-ck-ED foR You!!”

A pure laugh sprang out, “I look good.”

“Send your outfit in the family group chat then, see what mom and Charletta say!”

I pinched at the front of my shirt, “no, no, that’s fine.”

“THEN YOU KNOW!”

“I KNOW YOU GUYS HAVE NO STYLE!”

Wicks hollered, “I’ll put them both in this call right now.”

“NO! I’ll-I’ll hang up!”

“On me?” He made a fake crying noise.

“You’re a punk!! Stop!”

He continued to snicker, giving a sigh that clearly held his beam. “Let's watch some stupid movies on Saturday night, and into Sunday morning, sound cool?”

“YES please!” I demanded it. “I’m gonna need it after this festival.”

“Is it that bad?”

“No, it’s just-” I exhaled, “a lot of people.”

I heard a bang on his end. "Are you okay?"

Wick’s voice sputtered out, more panicked. “Well, have fun with it, Lentils, and keep sending me pictures!” He sounded like he was moving. “I love you too, Lentils!”

“I love-" he hung up before I finished. I tried to call him back but it went to voicemail. Was he in trouble?

My phone pinged with a text.

Wicks: Sorry, boss walked in. Talk later, love you, be safe, and if there is an emergency, call my number. ❤️❤️❤️ 5:45p.m.

My shoulders dropped. I put my phone away after sending him a message back. I looked up seeing them all walking ahead of me. They were broken up into groups, most of the night crew were in the back while the morning crew were up toward the front.

Now time to get back to these weirdo's. I joked in my head, making my way back to Alexander, Drake, and now Lev.

…

Drake *While Lynnette was on the call.*

“She’s such a pain in the ass.” Alexander grumbled.

Drake chortled, “what’s the complaint this time?”

Air left his lungs in a puff, Alexander waved his hand around, “you’re not the one around her constantly.”

It’s a good thing I’m not.

“It is your job, you brought her here.”

Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose, “yeah yeah.” He brought out his slightly annoyed grin, “what would you do in my position then?”

“Eat her,” Lev said, slowing down to walk with them. “Which, I’ve been meaning to ask, Alexander. You’ve never brought a human to the pizzeria before…” He stuck his tongue out, “so why did you decide to invite Lynette? Couldn’t you have just eaten her in the store and been done with it?”

He lifted up his hand and pointed at Lev, “well-” He brought his hand back up to his head. He almost forgot. I can't believe I never asked him that. Drake thought.

“The party." He adjusted his glasses, "I didn’t want to eat before it. Especially when I just got Sasha, and I still had so much to set up.” He ran his hands under his eyes, “but you're right, I should have just-”

“What did I miss?” Lynette’s voice popped by Drake.

He listened to her fluttery beats.

Drake kept his sight off her, staring at the small stores they passed instead, “another conversation you’d dislike.”

Alexander groaned audibly and Lev laughed at him. He could hear the soft jests of Lev at Alexander.

“Ah,” defeat deflated her tone.

Then he felt her eyes cast over him. “And are you okay? You’ve been quiet lately.” She continued, “I mean, I’ve never really seen you all interact outside of work, but you’re usually a lot more talkative”

Stay calm. He reminded himself. Her body leaned near him, innocently. “I’m fine, really…” His lips quivered and he turned to her but before he could do anything, Alexander grabbed her arm. Did I reveal too much? He asked himself, seeing Alexander’s slight gaze before he turned back to Lynette. He threw his hood over his head and pulled at the strings until he only had a small hole to look through.

…

Lynette

“HEY, shortie.” Alexander walked backward tugging her along, “who’s turn is it going to be after this festival, mine right?”

I disagreed. “It’s my turn, you went Sunday, Lev went Monday, and Dra-Claudia went Thursday.”

Lev and Alexander looked disappointed.

I have to look at my list later, I haven’t even thought of a game. Besides the one with Claudia right now. I internally rolled my eyes.

He let me go when he hit his back against Viola.

“Hi, Alexander.”

“Hey,” He gave a nod of acknowledgement, “sorry.”

She stopped along with the others, because we were standing outside the food tent.

Now that we were standing next to it, I noticed the strong, crisp, delicious pizza smell. My stomach grumbled very softly. I had what, a bagel for breakfast and a coffee? I asked myself. Great, here comes the pizza mood.

Everyone looked to be working in their human form, then again so did a lot of individuals in the food zone from what I saw. Or maybe other humans work with monsters like me? Though, none of them really had the black sweatband on their arm like me.

Others in that "terror" tent did. I said to myself. I still can’t believe some people offer themselves up to be eaten. I kept my eyes from going to Alexander.

It’s not my fault I judge their grotty diet harshly. My mind went over the logistics again. I still don’t understand how they can sustain themselves off other people's energy? There like leeches without the blood…I smiled thinking of going to one of the open umbrella tables to sit.

If they took blood like him it wouldn’t be that bad, right? Actually, I don't think all vampires would take the blood out of someone and put it in a blood bag. I held my head, why am I having these thoughts now. I wouldn’t be under heavy fire today, and I did feel a lot more at ease with a lot of space between the others and me. At the pizzeria if I was cashiering I would be trapped in a corner, or in the break room. Most monsters at the event looked at me funny, and that's pretty much it.

A floating pizza grabbed my eye. SO wait, do they use magic on them? I had never witnessed the whole project. And I swore the day before I was hired I saw one floating too. Then again there were a lot of times in my life where I swore something off. Then I freaked out. That means when I was little and told the Paytons I saw a monster, I WAS RIGHT!

I muffled a shout with my hands. They called me crazy!

I was about to text Wicks then stopped, holding my phone out. Lynette, you can't do that, he can't know about monsters. I grumbled seeing the time, is it really almost six o’clock? I looked back up at the others in the tent, squinting, and once Claudia moved toward the side of the counter I was, our bet entered my head again.

“I need to get the last few forms off my list.”

Claudia turned to me curiously, “hmm?”

“The monster-”

“OHHH! I was kidding earlier,” she chuckled and continued before I could stop her, “but since we’re taking it seriously, you gotta tell me exactly what they are too, you can’t name off something similar.”

“No way, you looked serious earlier, Claudia!” I exclaimed. “If it was a joke, tell me after you had your fun!”

Alexander’s growl butt in, “what are you two talking about?”

Claudia smiled, “Lynette wanted to engage in a bet with me-”

“You didn't give me a choice!” I stammered.

“Clearly you wanted to play because you reminded me of it again.” She tapped her own head, “I would have forgotten if you didn’t remind me.”

I screamed more into my hands to catch my own idiocy.

“Why,” Alexander exhaled, “WHY do you keep putting yourself in stupid situations.”

“BECAUSE I AM A BIG DUMMY!” I pointed to myself then at him, “BUT I BARELY UNDERSTAND HOW ALL OF THIS WORKS, LET ALONE WHEN ANY OF YOU ARE KIDDING, SERIOUS, OR-” I threw my hands up, “URGH, you know what, Xander, you’re not one to talk.” I was so engrossed in the embarrassment that I snapped back, “you always act so bothered by me but you put me here, so you’re just as d-dumb, we're both idiots!” I stumbled over the last sentence in a poor attempt to defend myself.

And once I had a second more to mull over what I said, my relieved grin fell and I cowered back seeing his approach. “I’m sor-gahh”

I was yanked and held close to their chest. I glanced up, relieved it was Viola.

She faced Drake, still holding me with an arm over my neck, lightly.

“Is this what you have to deal with everyday?”

Drake gave a sigh.

Alexander gestured to me, “SHE STARTS IT, I’M JUSTIFIED.”

“I DO NOT, XANDER!”

He pointed at Viola. “Let her go.”

“No, Mr. Problem child,” Viola directed me with her. “I’m not going to see you get in trouble for breaking the rules.”

“I-” He stopped his argument and met Viola’s eyes. He took a big inhale then exhaled with defeat, “are you just going to ignore what she said to me?”

“Of course not,” Viola said, “but unlike you, she was ready to apologize.”

Alexander rolled his eyes, “yeah, because she knew I’d get her back.”

“Good point,” Viola said. “I guess I have to figure out a way to punish you too.”

I flinched in her grasp. Alexander dropped it at least. What is she going to do? She doesn't eat girls right...right?! No, she can't eat me anyway. Then what is she going to do?

She let me go and I turned to face her. Why do they always look so much bigger when they threaten me? I looked over her form and she twirled me around. Then she pulled my arms back, "hold this position."

"For-for how long?" I muttered.

"Give me a moment." Viola tweeted, her voice sounds so sweet yet when I look at her, she looks like she'd snap me like a twig. Unlike the others, they looked and sounded scary. Well, except Claudia, she seems so harmless. And Drake doesn't threaten me. I sighed, so it's the big thr- "O-o-ow!" I exclaimed as she was putting something up my arms.

"Sorry, your arms were in the wrong position." She said, moving them before putting something on my shoulders.

When she let go I fell back into her, losing my balance entirely. "What-ah-is this your bag?!"

“Yep, and you're going to have to carry it until we get back to the hotel."

I squeaked out, fighting to stay upright. "What's in here!"

“A few of my gifts to my partner, Elise, my friend Henry, my younger brother, five other sisters, your gifts for your family, your clothes, spare clothes for anyone who needs them, a few treats, and...no I think I took out the dumbbells.”

“All that in here?”

“It has a slight seal on it, I’m not that great at encryption magic, so you can still feel a lot of the weight.” She then flexed, “look at it this way it’ll help build your muscles.”

I don’t think even if I could bulk up that I'd be able to lift people around as easy as any of you do. I thought in my head. I struggled to maintain balance once she helped me plant my feet. “You're not being serious about carrying it the whole time are you?”

“I am,” Viola gave a hefty pat to the backpack, almost making me fall again. “Now don't drop it.”

…

“Hey, hey,” The grayish haired male said, tapping at the top of my head as if it were bongos. I was too comfortable and tired from holding up the backpack for twenty minutes to stop him. I was sweating, so I rested under one of the umbrella tables. “Your head plays a very nice tune.”

“Thanks…” I said.

He sat next to me on my left, while on my right was Zilla, avoiding him. Her eyes are definitely sharper than his, he looks like he's just here for a good time.

None of the few sitting at the table with me were in their monster forms. Tila was kicking her feet back and forth, while June was eating some pizza of his own. He pressed it into his body at his neck and it slid inside him.

That’s so weird. I said in my head as Claudia slapped a plate down in front of me. She ate a slice too.

“You eat normal food?” I asked.

I never saw anyone on the night crew eat lunch, besides Drake with his blood packs.

She happily munched and hummed, “I eat all kinds of foods.”

Good to know. I looked down at the two triple meat pizza slices. I’ve never even eaten our pizza before, have I? I always wanted to bring some home, but given the time I got out and sometimes how I had to leave, I didn't have the chance.

I lifted up the slice, went to take a bite, and felt Zane lean closer to me. “Hey, do you mind if I have the first bite?”

I looked at my slice then gestured to my plate, “you can have the other-”

I jumped with a yelp, seeing Tila underneath the table eating the slice in front of my legs. “When did you get there…” I trailed off, thinking it wasn’t worth it. I got ready to rip my slice. “We can split it in-”

He took a bite before I could finish, “mhm, this is pretty good, thanks.”

Zilla squinted at him and pulled my arm to her, “it’s not that good.” She took a bite of it too, and grumbled. “It is really good.”

“Right!” He tugged my arm to him and I squeaked out.

“Please-” I whimpered. “I only ate a bagel today.”

Zane stood up, “what?! How could you go a whole day eating just that?!” He snatched the rest of the slice from my hand and stuffed it in his mouth. “Lefs geff yoo amopher von.” (Let’s get you another one).

I held the straps of the backpack, hoisting myself up with a grumble. Ate my pizza right in front of me. I went up to the tent with him, stumbling about, and we begged for another pizza. The only ones left cooking were Sandra and Edgar. I didn’t see Tristan around. And Edgar looked more than happy to make us another.

Zane leaned back on the counter with the coverage of the tent, he was looking over at Zilla, waving. She turned around quickly and he sighed, smiling.

I worked up the courage to speak, “are you guys…both the same monster wise too?”

I felt a sudden shiver, almost like I asked the wrong question. But, his smile looked enduring. “You’ve seen Zilla in action? Cool! Yeah! We're the same in our monster forms too.”

“I, uh-are you a certain type? I saw another naga earlier fighting Alexander and they didn’t have the-” I did a hand mouth gesture. "at their tail."

Zane chuckled, “oh no, we’re hybrids, mixed with a mimic.” He then tapped on my head again, “how about you answer one of my questions too.”

“Yeah?” I leaned my body down to allow the backpack to rest on the counter.

“Why did you end up staying here?”

I stiffened up, “oh-uh- the money. It’s way too much for me to give up without trying.”

Zane smiled and fully faced me. I didn’t know if it was because he was taller than me, or because I knew what he was, but there was a very subtle fear worming its way through my body.

“I love the dedication.” He pushed at me lightly, I almost fell over given the backpack and had to catch myself.

I smiled. His violet eyes had a different look too, it definitely wasn't that hunger I saw in their eyes. An indescribable thickness.

"Here's your pizza you two!" Edgar said. "I made it extra, extra large so you could share it around!"

Zane chuckled and took the giant box, "you're not going to be hungry anymore, huh, Lynette?"

I nodded along, "I bet I can finish it all." I tried to lighten myself up. He's probably as conniving as his sister, that's all.

…

Thank you for reading! :D Have a gouda day! (Nonnegotiable, if you're lactose intolerant, you're about to be in a lot of pain, sorry, not sorry. Lol).

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Catch up, see maps/art, or check for release dates down below ↓

What I’d do for a Livable Income (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

#vore writing #vore story #soft vore writing #widfali #v.0re #v.ore #v/0re #v/ore #vore mention #ocs #I HAD TO SPLIT IT UP AGAIN. THIS IS SUCH A LONG PART AND IT'S ONLY THE FIRST DAY OF THE FESTIVAL. SO MANY CHARACTERS

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braveclementine · 3 months

Text

Day 6~ 8:40 P.M.

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book.

Copyright: My OCs are Coach Yonce, Emma, Ila, Tempus, and Itty Bitty. I own these characters. I do not condone any copying of this.

My stomach was growling and it wasn't the only one. I could see kids who looked like they were going to pass out from a lack of food. But no one dared try to touch the food.

I wondered if this was some sort of test. If the food would eventually become available- perhaps had even become available the minute the boy had dropped dead- but I didn't dare test it. No one dared test it.

No one dared test it for hours and I could feel that it was becoming night.

Finally, the lady walked through the room and I could hear the collective sigh around the table. I didn't dare relax.

"I see you have all learned about patience." The lady said, a smirk on her face. Once again, she was wearing black. This time, she had a pistol in a hip holster. I wondered if we were going to play Russian Roulette.

After all, the rules had changed.

"Are there an qualms of questions?" She asked pleasantly.

I stood up from the table and all eyes flickered to me.

"I thought we were playing by the rules." I questioned, staring directly at her. I could feel Itty tugging on my jeans underneath the table, begging me to sit down.

"But we are, Braveclementine3." The lady said. "I don't understand. Do you think a rule has been broken?"

"Yes, I do." I stated simply. "You see, based on the rules, we're only supposed to die in game. But you've killed a boy out of the game. I have some serious problems with that."

The lady tilted her head a little bit. "You're right."

The children exchanged looks around the table.

"I have broken the rules." The lady continued and I hated her all the more for admitting it. I detested her. She didn't even care that she broke the rules! It was all a game to her. All of it, inside and out of the arena.

"You're sick." I spat.

"And I think you've said enough." The lady said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Perhaps you'd like to volunteer for a. . . minigame."

I scoffed, sitting down in my seat. I was beyond pissed. I wanted to kill her. I truly did.

"That's what I thought." She sneered and I glared at her. She looked out at the table as a whole. "You can eat now."

Several hands reached out immediately and I closed my eyes, knuckles in my eyes as I tried not to look as they dropped the floor.

"You lied!" One of the boys shouted.

"Oopsie." The lady giggled.

I lost it.

I stood up again, my chair toppling backwards. "I've found I'm not hungry."

I turned and made my way to where the door was wide open. My guard hurried forward, before grabbing my arm.

"Very well." The lady said. "Take her to the arena. Let her inside the minigame."

"Yes Ma'am." The guard replied.

Het let go of my arm as he led me through the door again. When we got back to the intersection, he went straight instead and led me through a green door.

Inside, the cameras were dark, the screens dark as well. The lights were dim and I could hear the howling of wolves.

"You shouldn't have done that." He said.

"Why? Because now the wolves will tear me apart?" I scoffed. "Fine. Let them."

"You're a very depressing character." He commented. "You'd think there was more optimism in you."

It honestly took me a second to hear what he said.

I couldn't even control my response to his words.

SMACK.

He stared at me, lifting a surprised hand to his face after I smacked him with all my might.

"Character?" I asked quietly. I didn't have the energy to yell. "Is this some sort of book to you? A movie? A game? I'm sorry if I'm not optimistic. Maybe you're blind, but your boss back there just killed a bunch of kids because she could. For no reason. I guess the games weren't progressing far enough. So sorry if I'm depressed. I just realized I'm not going to see my family again. Sorry about being depressed though. Sorry for not being more optimistic. I'll try and make it more exciting for you next time."

"Did you have to slap me so hard?" He grumbled, apparently not hearing anything I said.

I ignored him.

⬅️➡️

#Braveclementineworks #BraveclementineNovels #Novel #Escape the Facility #Flee the Facility #roblox #roblox games #horror games #Sebastian Stan #Tempus #gaming fic #Itty Bitty #Emma #xreader #18+readersonly #mcu

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edienotsedgwick · 1 year

Text

A collection of words for people who love their favorite artists a little too much ✨

(these are all bits of what will become actual songs eventually) (I also have a tendency to directly mention who I'm talking about because I wear my heart on my sleeve)

I opened my eyes, and saw the world in grey.

It was a far cry, from the gold in my blinds - the morning before that magical night.

The day is just as bright, but there might as well be clouds when I feel like this.

Good empty morning, you've come and gone.

Now I'm aimlessly wandering.

Taking the bus feels like I'm going nowhere.

Going to work feels like a dead end.

I shouldn't be straight back in normalcy when I was just in ecstasy.

You were there in the same place as me, you weren't just a picture on my screen.

*** I'm in a field, you're standing in front of me. A girl with curly brown hair, in the band shirt I used to wear. I could still talk about you more than anyone. It's not just me there but also thousands of friends. Happy to know you're real not just pixels in a screen's glare. The kids from yesterday, with the light behind their eyes, cause they weren't afraid to stay alive. Black skirt, white shirt you looked so cool that night. *** Dearest favorite artist, you might hate my music, but I think that we're kindred spirits.

***

Cross the bridge into town, there's not much to see around.

You always said that, I didn't care - I still loved it anyway.

Go to the mall, go to the thrift stores, skip the one owned by pro-lifers.

Stare across the water view, and wait to get picked up when we get bored.

Pretend it's Blackwood in the early 90s when it's just Wanganui 2020.

*** Driving in your mothers car, the sun is setting I don't want it to end.

Driving in your mother's car, the CD on, gold against the soul.

We sang... "from despair to where"

***

I didn't know I didn't love men romantically but fannish hysteria, transcended sexuality.

I got myself to the front for every band I would see, once I got so close that this theatre kid from Vegas has my drawing of his face on his mantelpiece.

I liked the experience, but this one I won't relive.

Now he's broken up "the band" and he's got a history with creeps who are still in his company.

***

Pick me up in the middle of the night when my eyes can't stay open and feel like cement.

Walk me to my bedroom when I'm no longer conscious and I'll wake up bathed in the 7am glow.

You're rehearsing your tracks in a room down the hallway and I look with a joyous gaze.

We're no longer parasocial, I fucking love you.

*** I believe I have the charms and the wit to will my way in and do powerful things.

Everyday when I catch the bus, I plan every step in the world in my head.

Nobody really sees, the lengths I will go to turn all of this limerence into something explosive.

It's just so funny, that I'm losing it, but to you this is just another day at the office.

***

You're a cloth monkey, you're comforting, you don't know me but I give you your money.

In my downtime, in times of grief, you are the softness that I need tenderly.

Mutually parasitic, emotionally cannibalistic.

Two puppets on the same strings.

These feelings are not all whimsy, but at the same time, this is what we need. *** There's a day coming that I dread, but nonetheless have to face.

My wife will find me in the kitchen, she'll pull me in embrace.

She'll tell me that musician I like just died today.

She won't be prepared for me to bawl sliding down a wall.

You're not a demigod

But I don't want that day to come, without saying hello let alone goodbye.

A letter in your pocket with everything you need to know about my life before and after you reached my heart.

You're not a demigod

I know I should critique this world, that sets us up with these false gods.

I know that there's a problem and my special interest is the system.

But I love it so much, though it's made of starving bones it is my home.

Stockholm syndrome.

***

People say you should kill your heroes, no more pedestals, no more disappointments.

It doesn't work for me in practice.

I'm always crying when the pistols on their necks.

I never pull the trigger.

I apologize and let them run away.

They leave me like a stray dog.

Sometimes I say hi again, revisiting the junkyards in my head.

***

Pick me up and spin me around, like you've come home from war and you missed me so much.

Make sure my feet fly off the ground.

A studio in the country is waiting.

We catch up in a happy haze.

We're no longer parasocial...

***

I can't believe I'm saying this all out loud.

Why do I think I should air it out?

I tell it to my diary, I tell it to my friends, but I'm still full of pent up hysteria.

The kind that makes me relieved that I'm a child of the 21st century.

Cause bless, any girl like me from the 50s probably has a lobotomy.

Dear god this is raw, this makes me look scary.

I promise I won't be, dear favorite artist, I'll be as normal as I can be.

***

I've gone to sleep many harsh and exhausting evenings.

Me glaring into your static eyes on my phone, and then closing my eyes.

Moving my hand to the back of my neck and up into my scalp, ruffling my hair, massaging the areas of my head that are never touched like this.

Comforting myself until the pillow I'm leaning into is a chest and my arm is yours.

***

Something I fear, is one day becoming another villain in the many horror stories written about fame.

I'm not a stan! I don't want to be a stan! I know in my heart that obsession that leads to violence will not get me anything I want and I will never be the kind of person who succumbs to it.

No one will ever put "stalker" or "killer" at the end of my name when it's searched.

***

I can't meet them, work with them, befriend them, with you in the reflection of the kitchen windows in the evening clouding my expectations.

Cause while this is a dream come true, I acknowledge that this isn't going to be a manifestation of every single fake scenario I've made up on the bus on both commutes.

I have to see this person not as my mind's self soother, but instead as who they really are.

They breathe, they eat, they sleep, their body can do all the gross things that my one does.

The ornate embroidered curtain has to fall.

***

Farewell, to the best imaginary friend I've ever had

#edie TxT #my posts #my lyrics #song lyrics #singer songwriter #songwriting #poetry #musician #autistic musician #autistic writer #autistic artist #neurodivergent artist #neurodivergent musician #neurodivergent writer #parasocial relationships #limerence #fandom

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harryforvogue · 2 years

Text

last night, i didn't sleep until 7:30 am cuz the sound of the cars on the road, the planes, and trucks were bothering me so much. and then when the sun came out, my thin curtains did nothing to block out the light, so i barely slept again. so of course i've turned my pain into a fic

so here's what i think harry would do if luce was unable to sleep because of those reasons <3

***

It only takes twenty minutes for Lucía to give up trying to take a nap. She gets up and drags herself to the living room where Harry is sitting, his laptop perched in his lap. The blinds are still open, allowing orange pink sunlight to stream in, hitting the right side of his face so beautifully. His hair turns lighter, some curls escaping his bun as he leans down to peer at his work on the screen. She doesn't know what he's working on, but it seems to require his entire concentration.

She slinks over closer to him, dragging her blanket behind her. At one point, she even trips on it, her vision swimming from extreme tiredness, though he doesn’t seem to notice.

Lucía stops in front of him and sighs. He glances up at her and then smiles, tilting his head back to rest against the back of the sofa. "Hi."

"Harry."

“Just woke up or couldn’t sleep?” he asks, holding his hand out. She takes it eagerly and then climbs up on the couch beside him. Immediately, she nestles into his shoulder, and he reaches to spread the blanket over her body and half of his.

“Second one.”

He rests his head against hers after a kiss to her forehead. “I'm sorry. Should have checked in on you. What was it this time?”

She closes her eyes and exhales, her body utterly exhausted from a lengthy day at work. She was all over the office today, meeting with new hires, training the new department heads. Most of the time, she can get away with staying in the comfort of her own space, but there was a lot of moving around today.

That, and a large group of coworkers and her decided to get lunch together at a restaurant. She had worn the wrong shoes. Her feet ached and her calves burned as she walked with her co workers in the heart of Boston to the restaurant.

She wanted to get home and take a quick nap before having dinner with Harry, but despite the fatigue that plagued her body, there was nothing to calm her mind down enough to get half an hour worth of uninterrupted sleep.

Harry had helped the best he could. Just last week he’d installed thicker curtains to keep the bright spring sun out of her eyes when she’d sleep. He’d bought her a weighted blanket and always turned her AC on to make it cold in the room, no matter how much he complained about it.

It should have been enough, but she still could not sleep sometimes.

Lucía lifts her head up and sleepily looks at him through her lashes. He’s broken his concentration from the laptop, simply staring down at her now.

“It’s stupid,” she murmurs, skating her arm across his torso. She feels the muscle harden beneath her fingertips. He’s ticklish.

“It’s never stupid,” he says, catching her hand. He brings it to his mouth to kiss softly, and then rests it on his chest. Above his heart. “Maybe it’ll be something we can work on, like the sunlight thing.”

“And the clock thing.”

“Yes, actually. Exactly like that. If it’s fixable, then we’ll fix it.”

She peeks up at him. “And if it’s not fixable?”

“We’ll worry about that when we get there. I’m sure there’s something we’ll be able to do though.” He nudges her with his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“It’s stupid and embarrassing.”

“I love stupid and embarrassing, Luce.”

Lucía sighs. He’ll never let this go now that she’s mentioned it. Slowly, she shuts his laptop and slides it off his lap. Instead of climbing into his embrace, however, she simply drops her head to his thigh and adjusts herself.

Harry smiles, pushing her curls out of her eyes.

She shuffles closer until she feels the fabric of his shirt scratching her nose. “Couldn’t stop counting the cars,” she mumbles against his stomach.

Harry’s eyebrows raise. “That’s a new one.”

“Mhmm.”

“So how many cars are currently on the street, Luce?”

She scowls. “It’s not funny.”

“Of course it’s not,” Harry says, smiling, pushing her eyebrows apart. “What number did you get up to?”

“27.”

“Good number.”

“Mhmm. Had to get up before my head exploded.”

“Poor baby.” He cards his fingers through her hair, separating her curls, something that would have her whining, but right now she doesn’t seem to mind. He presses his fingers against the crown of her head, massaging the area.

Lucía didn’t even have to tell him where it hurt. Somehow he just knew. Somehow, he always knew.

“Can’t do anything but wear earplugs to fix that,” she sighs.

Her eyes close, enjoying the feeling of his gentle fingers providing her relief. She was so tired, she didn’t even get the chance to properly comb out her hair from her own bun. He massages that area too, causing her to nearly whimper with exhaustion and relief.

“You don’t like earplugs,” he says softly, thumbing over her cheek. “Maybe we can try out white noise.”

“Maybe.” She stretches her legs and then buries her face against his hip. With his shirt riding up slightly, she can feel the warmth of his skin against the bridge of her nose. She inhales his scent, humming appreciatively. “You’re still using my body wash.”

“Haven’t had the chance to go to the store,” he says defensively. “And yours is nicer than mine.”

“Are you still using my conditioner?”

“That too. It makes my curls look nice.”

She smiles. “Your hair has seemed extra soft recently.”

“Definitely not as soft as yours,” he says, giving her hair a teasing yank. She makes a noise at the back of her throat. “You’re still very sleepy.”

“I wanted to sleep so bad. Was all I was thinking about. And the food coma I got after lunch really got me. I wanted to sleep off the entire afternoon.”

His body trembles as he laughs softly. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m cute for enjoying my food?”

“Yes.”

“The bar is low, Harry.”

“I’d say the opposite.” He runs the back of his knuckles against her cheek. “Why don’t you try to sleep a little bit right now.”

“There’s a lot of light.”

Harry chuckles. “Not if I go like this.” He gently places his hand over her eyes. His singular cold ring makes her shiver. “Try to sleep for a little bit. Just try. As sexy as I think you are, you’re starting to look more like a Tim Burton character with those dark circles, my love.”

“My dark circles are the sexiest part of me.”

“I’m not one to disagree on that.” Harry takes the discarded blanket and drapes it over her. It's awkward to do with one hand but eventually he manages. She raises her chin and lets him tuck her in properly.

“Is it still loud?”

“A little bit. Maybe…maybe you can talk about your day? That usually helps.”

“Sure, Luce.”

He goes into a long detail about his day. Starting with the morning they shared. “I woke up this morning absolutely freezing because the woman sleeping with me had stolen not one, but two of my blankets off my body. And she had the audacity to lay all innocently on my stomach.”

Lucía smiles. “I was so warm.”

“So I open my eyes and I go to give this particular woman the scolding of her lifetime, but I can’t. Because she’s on my stomach facing me. And I can barely see her face because all her hair is in it, so I have the option of yelling at her, or making her even more comfortable.”

She remembers how she woke up to Harry gently caressing her cheek. “Mhmm.”

“I manage to get her up. She’s an absolute monster in the morning by the way. Looking all sweet and sleepy like that. Makes it real hard to get out of bed on time. I go shower and when I come back, I find that she’s slept through her alarm.”

“Two of them,” she murmurs.

“Right. So I have to stop getting ready for work and instead make this lovely woman get up. And despite all the clawing and hissing, she gives in.”

“I didn’t claw or hiss.”

“I hand her her clothes and send her off to the bathroom. Then I put my clothes on and I get started on breakfast. She comes down moments later and decides it is the right time to cuddle with me, getting my shirt all wet from her soaking hair.”

“‘S because you’re so warm all the time.”

“Sure.” He tilts his head back and closes his eyes. “Then I have to wrestle her off–”

“Liar!”

“--and then beg her to take her vitamins and supplements.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“And then I have to make sure she gets some food into her before we’re all ready to go. I drive by the way.”

“Which you insist on.”

“We stop by to get some coffee on the way. Suddenly, she’s looking more alive.”

Lucía sinks against him, enjoying the way he’s still scratching at her scalp. It makes her want to succumb into a good sleep for a long time. The unconsciousness is catching up to her. The more Harry talks, the deeper she sinks, holding the hem of his shirt in between her fingers. It doesn’t take long at all for Harry’s words to become a distant rumble.

No longer is the sun bothering her. No longer is the sound of traffic outside disturbing her.

All she feels is Harry’s hand over her eyes, his voice in her ears, his strong thigh beneath her head, his scent in her nose. If she could stay like this forever, wouldn’t life be so perfect? With one more barely there sound in response to his story, she is finally asleep.

#harry and lucía #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #this is pretty short #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x oc #harry styles x woc #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #surprise i guess!

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avintagekiss24 · 3 years

Text

—belated; bucky barnes

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4738

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings

squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge

request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain

author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)

gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics

James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.

One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.

Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.

Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.

After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.

The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?

Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.

He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.

Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.

Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.

“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”

His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.

Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.

Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.

You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”

“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“Well, duh. Why?”

He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”

So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.

The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.

Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”

“Not true.”

“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”

“How is that my fault?”

You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”

“I have to work. You know that.”

“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”

He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.

And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.

But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.

You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.

Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”

He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.

Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.

The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.

“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”

Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”

A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”

The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.

Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.

You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”

“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”

A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.

“That requires an answer, honey.”

The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”

He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”

Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.

The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.

“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”

He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.

“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.

When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.

A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”

He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.

“I don’t think—“

“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”

You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.

If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.

Well, you like being his prey.

Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.

The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.

Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”

That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.

Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.

“Lean forward, kitten.”

Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again— rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.

He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.

There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.

Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.

You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.

Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.

He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.

You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”

Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.

“You want me to fuck you, girl?”

The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”

That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.

You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.

Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.

The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.

“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.

He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.

It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.

You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.

Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.

He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.

“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”

The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.

“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.

You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”

He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.

He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.

Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.

The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.

Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.

Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.

It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.

He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.

You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.

Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.

He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.

Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.

You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.

“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”

So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.

“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.

You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”

#bad things happen bingo #buckybarnesbingo2021 #ssb2021 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #5k...holy god

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dees-writing-corner · 2 years

Text

g’night

pairings: hongjoong x fem!reader (platonic), seonghwa x fem!reader (platonic)

genre: fluff

word count: 1167

a/n I haven't really written anything after I wrote my English papers for my GCSE's, so this is the first piece I've done in 2 years. I may be a bit rusty but bare with me please, I promise it'll get better the more I write.

p.s. I'm still figuring out the settings and all that but I'm pretty sure you guys can message me or send me an ask or something. if that's something you want to do, then feel free to do so.

main masterlist

Waking up to the sound of my phone ringing was definitely not what I expected on a Saturday. Especially not at 4 A.M.

Groaning, I rolled over to reach for my phone, “Hello?”

“Could you come over?”

My brain was barely processing the words as I sat up.

“What? Now?”

“Please? Joong’s been sitting in the living room working on whatever since last night. Literally. When I checked up on him before bed, he was sitting there with his laptop. I just woke up to get a glass of water and he’s still sitting there. I almost dropped my glass because of him, there’s only a lamp on and he looks like a bloody ghost with the light shining on his face.”

I pulled myself out of bed with a groan, “You’re his flat mate Seonghwa, not me. Shouldn’t it be you telling him to go to bed or something? I feel like I spend more time over at your flat than I do mine.”

“Yeah, well he doesn’t listen to me. Telling him to rest is like talking to a bloody brick wall. He won’t move.”

“Fine. Give me like 15 minutes.”

I hung up and sat there for a few minutes waiting for my brain to turn back on.

I can never get any rest, can I? Why am I friends with them again?

With a sigh, I pulled on a pair of joggers and a hoodie, before leaving the warmth of my flat.

The trek across campus was quiet and slightly nippy.

Should’ve put on a jacket.

I walked up to their flat and knocked.

The door swung open revealing a slightly dishevelled-looking Seonghwa, who immediately pulled me in.

“You’re here! Finally! I feel like I’ve been trying to persuade the flipping wall to go to bed for the past 20 minutes.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at what he said, “It can’t be that bad.”

He arched his brow before motioning to the sofa.

I looked behind him and just noticed Hongjoong sitting there staring blankly at his computer screen, before turning back to Seonghwa.

“You couldn’t have turned the lights on? He’s gonna go blind at this rate.”

“Y/N, he growled at me when I turned the lights on in the kitchen. So, excuse me if I didn’t want to find out what would happen when I turn the lights on here.”

I reached over and pushed him to the side, “Fine, you big baby, just stay here and watch, while I get him to bed. You might learn a thing or two.”

I slowly walked up to the sofa, “Joong. Hongjoong.”

He glanced up and looked back down to his screen before he did a double-take.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“To get you to bed. Just like every other time I come over in the early mornings.”

I sat down beside him and gently took the laptop away from his lap, ignoring the way he tried to stop me.

I quickly saved the document and turned the laptop off before looking back to Hongjoong.

“Joong, you’ve been at this since last night. You need rest. I know you’re gonna say you were working on it but you’ve just been staring at it for the past half hour. Let your brain rest for a bit, yeah?”

I reached out and took his hand, pulling him off of the sofa and towards his bedroom, sitting him on his bed.

“Joong, go to sleep.”

He just sat there staring at me with a grin on his face.

“What?”

He let out a quiet chuckle and pulled me towards him.

“You're reminding me of my mum right now.”

I combed through his hair and hummed, “You've said that before love, and I’m sure Aunty Kim would be grateful that her son isn’t a sluggish zombie running on way too many cups of coffee.”

I gently pushed him into his pillows, “Now go to sleep, will you? You look tired.”

He gently pressed a kiss on the back of my hand and mumbled, “hmmm, g’night, love you.”

“Love you too.”

I carefully closed the door as I exited his room, before sitting next to Seonghwa on the sofa, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Did you learn anything?”

I could feel his head shaking as he said, “Not really. I think you’re the only one able to do that.”

Stifling a yawn, I lifted my head to look at him, “Yeah, now. You kinda have to threaten him, and I do mean threaten, not bluff. Do you remember the first few times I tried? God, they were bloody horrible.”

Seonghwa chuckled at the memory, “Oh yeah, it took you about an hour before he actually responded to you.”

I couldn’t help but groan, remembering how long it took, “Yeah, and then I kept saying that I would call Aunty Kim if he didn’t go to sleep, and you know what she would say.”

Letting out a laugh (which kinda sent me into panic mode because I just put Hongjoong to sleep) Seonghwa nodded, “Yeah, and I remember his face when you got fed up and actually called her.”

“Hmm, and after that, he actually started to listen and go to bed.”

We were both looking out the window as the sun rose, making the sky a beautiful canvas of orange, yellow and red.

I heard Seonghwa yawn behind me, “I’m gonna go back to bed.”

I stood up from my spot and stretched, “m’kay, I’m gonna head back to my flat then. Talk to you later, yeah?”

Before I could even drag myself to the door Seonghwa pulled me back, “Yeah, no. You look like you’re gonna collapse before you even make it to your building. Stay here.”

“What, and sleep on the sofa?”

He pulled me along with him to his bedroom, “Nah, love, with me.”

I watched as he laid back in bed looking at me, “Hwa, as much as I love you, I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you again, the last time I did that you almost smothered me to death with your arm.”

“I was drunk!”

I contemplated the idea before giving in to it, because honestly? I was exhausted.

With a sigh, I pulled off my hoodie, before rummaging through one of his drawers looking for a pair of shorts.

“Just take your joggers off and come to bed. I don’t have any shorts that would be comfortable enough for you to sleep in.” He paused, before the corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk. “Anyways, it’s not like you haven’t pranced around us in an oversized tee and knickers before. No need to get shy.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I took off the joggers and crawled into bed next to him. Swatting his chest before laying down.

He covered us with the blanket and pulled me against his chest.

“Night, Hwa.”

He pressed a kiss on my temple, “Night, love.”

#ateez imagine #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #ateez fluff #ateez oneshot #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong imagines #seonghwa imagines #hongjoong oneshot #seonghwa oneshot

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hxt1b · 3 years

Text

Better Off (Part 2)

Mark x Reader

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warning: Swearing

WC: 2k

Masterlist

Playlist: Our Song - Anne-Marie, Niall Horan | War With Heaven - keshi

| Part One |

A/N: This is a long overdue part two to Distance. I hope you guys like it, i don't know if its that great it took me too long to write it so please let me know what you guys think. Please excuse any grammatical errors.

Pathetic.

That word kept a special spot in your head, just so you could be reminded of how weak you could get, like now.

You should have been working, living your best life as your friend had put it. But it was hard when everything was a damn reminder of Mark because here you were sitting in your newly furnished office stuck staring at your computer screen as the song played. You just hit shuffle on your playlist and this song played.

"Oh my god Mark you are so corny." You laughed as Mark pulled from your spot on the couch, his hand wrapping around your waist as he sang along with Jessi McCartney.

"I don't want another pretty face-"

You laughed as he dragged you around the room, you called him cheesy or corny but you loved it. You loved him.

So what else could you call yourself if not pathetic? You moved across the world to pursue your dream job four months in another country five months since Mark left you and here you are still stuck on him.

He broke up with you.

Rolling your eyes at yourself you finally moved to skip the song, grabbing your phone from your purse and leaning back in your chair you opened your Instagram app. You needed to calm down before you could start your workday.

Instagram was not a wise choice, to add to your list of pathetic acts was not being able to unfollow NCT's Instagram account because right at the top of your feed were the tour dates that you'd managed to ignore but today they were just staring at you.

New York City - today's date and tomorrow's.

Your hand tightened around your phone, you'd say that he was everywhere and that you hated it, but you let him be everywhere, so you couldn't complain.

But you told yourself it was better off like this.

—

Stupid

His brain never failed to remind him of his stupidity.

Yet Mark would say he's better off. Haechan would disagree. However, Mark could care less about what Haechan thinks. Letting the song play in his headphones he moved around the hotel room. Pulling open the blinds he took in the view that Haechan and he had.

New York was grand, full of everything you'd ever wanted and he knew that, he'd known that since the day he'd met you. But he'd deluded himself into thinking that he was bigger than those dreams, he'd been stupid enough to pit himself against those dreams. He was stupid to do it, not because he wasn't at the same level, but because your dreams weren't asking you to pick.

But it was over now, and Mark was better off.

The lyrics pouring in his mind constantly reminded him that he was the one that left you, Jesse McCartney's happiness was not seeping into Mark. For the past five months, it never did it made him mad at himself.

But he told himself that It's better off this way.

"Are you going to sulk for the entire time that you're in New York?"

Haechan asked pulling the headphones off of Mark's ears.

"I'm not sulking," Mark replied.

"Yeah because glaring out the window is a happy activity."

Mark rolled his eyes at Haechan and pushed past him towards the bathroom.

"We're going out to eat Mark, are you going to come with us?"

——

You weren't able to calm down or get any work done so you decided that you need to take a walk. The streets of New York were never quiet, and with the cold weather, everyone was bundled up and bumping into each other on the sidewalk.

You stuck your hands in your pocket and ducked your head down to hide your nose in your scarf as you made your way around the block slowly. There was something about New York that you never really grew accustomed to something just felt off, and you would assume that it had something to do with Mark but that assumption was too heavy to make fact and so you left yourself think you couldn't put your finger on it.

You were consumed in your thoughts, keeping would body tucked into itself to try and make yourself smaller. But still, no matter how much you tried you bumped into someone, your body being knocked sideways as your shoulder collided with theirs.

"Sorry," you exclaimed stopping to check if the person was okay. They were already looking down at you, his mouth slightly open. Taeyong was staring at you like you were a back from the dead. The rest of your sentence died as you stood staring at him.

Mark. That was all you could think. Taeyong snapped his head to his lift, your own following. And there he was, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His hood was pulled up covering his ears and he looked as perfect as the day you'd last seen him.

You both stared at each other before Haechan cleared his throat catching up a second before the others did.

"We'll be inside," Taeyong muttered and then motioned for the others to follow him.

Your eyes followed the movements of the others as they walked around you and turned into the restaurant at your back.

You stared at the ground not being able to look at Mark. Your eyes stinging, but you couldn't cry in front of him.

Mark cleared his throat.

"So uh," He started before stopping. He hesitated his next words the silence creeping up on you again, "Have you eaten yet?" He asked.

"No." You replied. You usually ate your first meal at lunch, that was a habit you'd had forever a habit mark knew well.

Mark nodded at your reply, "You must know some good places here then, wanna show me one?" He asked. Your head snapped up towards him, your eyes locking with his again. You were shocked by his words.

A part of you wished that you were one of those girls that could hold a grudge against him, but you weren't. You were the type that saw it from his side, understood his panic, and at the end of the day, you still craved Mark Lee.

You knew you deserved an apology, but you also knew that giving him the cold shoulder wasn't gonna get it. When you left Korea you thought you'd never see him again, but the longer you were here the more you expected him to call and when he didn't you started to settle into leaving him in the past but that was never easy for you. And now here he was in front of you and you simply couldn't ignore him.

You glanced over your shoulder at where the others had gone, and then back at Mark, he was still looking at you. His mouth set in a determined pout.

"Come with me." You said quietly walking by him expecting him to follow.

You took him to a small cafe that you often went to for lunch. You both sat at a small table in a corner of the place, neither of you had said anything on the walkover. The silence was pressing, not awkward but harsh. You and Mark always had something to talk about, and it was sad to you that you were both this quiet.

"How is the new job?" Mark asked quietly finally breaking the silence. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes were fixated on the table as he fiddled with the laminated menu in front of him.

"It's good," You replied, your words just as soft as his.

"That's good." And you were both back in the pocket of dark silence as you avoided eye contact.

A tall boy in round-rimmed glasses came over and took your order. His eyes lingered on you as he wrote down your order, your eyes flashed over to Mark. He was staring at the guy blankly, something inside you deflated. You'd hoped to see some kind of reaction like he typically would have back when you two were together.

Mark muttered your name pulling your entire attention to him.

"I miss you." He said his eyes holding yours. You frowned at him before quickly looking away, your throat constricted as your mind echoed his words at you.

"I'm not moving back to Korea." You replied.

"I know." He replied his fingers tapping the table as if they were itching to hold yours.

Your coffee and hot chocolate came out faster than you both expected, putting both your mouths on mute again as you took slow sips of your drinks.

"I miss you to Mark." You muttered as he took his second sip. "More than you understand." You added.

"Trust me. I understand."

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words. Then why were you broken up? Why didn't he call? Why was he making this so hard?

"I'm sorry." Mark finally said after another round of silence. "I'm sorry that I didn't give us a chance."

"You didn't call me for four months." You replied.

"I know."

"Why are you sorry now?"

Mark stayed silent.

"I'm so sorry for everything, I acted immature and I just needed to accept that." He said his face tinging red as he spoke. He paused to swallow, "I want you back."

"I'm not moving back to Korea." You stated, your voice cracking as you spoke, but you still refused to cry, not in front of him and most certainly not in public.

"I know, but I can't let you go like this."

"Mark I'm not moving back to -"

"I'm not asking you to."

Your eyes widened at his words.

"Long-distance doesn't fail everyone. And I didn't even give it a shot and you're worth it." He stated, his eyes locking with yours as he spoke. "Please let me try."

He was practically begging, and you didn't have it in your to make it hard for him or you. Maybe that made you weak, but it didn't matter, because being weak wasn't always a bad thing.

"Okay." You said and then lifted your cup to take another sip. Mark's eyes widened at your easy acceptance. He was probably expecting you to make this harder, but it was you and it was Mark Lee and you'd always known that you were a sucker for Mark Lee.

—

You both stayed at the cafe for another hour, the first few minutes were just spent staring at each other because slowly eased into a conversation about what you both had missed out on.

"Can I walk you back to work?" Mark asked as you both got up.

"Won't you get lost?" You replied.

"I'll just take a taxi back to the hotel." He answered.

"Then of course."

Mark passed you an air pod, just like how you guys would take walks before. His hand clasped yours as you both left the cafe.

The walk back to your office felt like it was quick. Too quick.

"Want to see my office?" You asked, your words hopeful as you both came to a stop at the front doors.

"Of course."

Mark touched everything he could, but that was his thing and you loved that he did it. He ran his finger over your desk, then the keyboard he looked at the random art you had hung up, trailing his finger along with the frame. Finally coming to stop in front of you.

His hands grabbed your shoulders and maneuvered you towards your desk chair pushing you into it. He took a step back talking you in, you supposed.

"You fit here." He said. A hesitant smile took over his facial features. You smiled back, your brain feeling fuzzy and high off the presence of Mark being in your office, something you hadn't let yourself dream of.

You pushed yourself off your chair and moved towards Mark. His hands jutting out automatically to grab your waist and pull you into him. You let your lips find his as they use to before. The kiss was easy, it was slow and sweet. His tongue eased its way into your mouth letting you taste him as he did you.

"Is this okay?" Mark asked pulling back from you for a second.

"This is perfectly okay." You mumbled back before kissing him again.

You weren't better off then.

But you were one hundred percent better now.

-neocain ♡

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animatedrapture · 4 years

Text

RINTOBER: [Greet Me With Goodbye]

suna rintarō x reader

word count: 2k

tags: bandmember!suna, angst, implied cheating, toxic relationship, post-breakup, smoking

song: 505 - arctic monkeys

a/n: PLEASE READ THE FIC WHILE LISTENING TO THIS. thank you mous for beta-reading this for me <3

The lights were near blinding as you stood behind the large crowd, having opted to stay where you can only see enough and be barely seen from the front of the stage where he stood.

The start of the song is what causes goosebumps against your skin—like it wants to take your breath away, and if you weren’t having trouble breathing before, you definitely were when you heard his voice again—booming and deep as he sang the first verse of the song. Your heart aches when you remember the first time you heard it, nowhere near finished then.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck?” You read the lyrics out, intrigued, and you look back up to him. His gaze holds yours with unparalleled tenderness behind the gloss of his eyes. You cock an eyebrow at him with an amused smile.

“Reminded me a lot about you when we first started trying to figure the lyrics out,” Suna answered with nonchalance, nodding at the paper held between your fingertips as if to tell you to continue reading through it.

“You’re not wrong,” you commented, humming in thought. “I’d still adore you with your hands around my neck, Rintarou.”

Suna grins, a glint in his eyes evident. Maybe because he knew, even without you telling him. He knew you adored him to a sinful extent.

The cheers and audience singing along to the sound of his voice were loud, but the thunderous beating of your heart was louder. So much louder. That’s when you think that maybe you shouldn’t have come here, you shouldn’t have let your friends convince you to stand directly in front of him yet stand so far away as if you were hiding. Well, perhaps you really were hiding; you could definitely step forward, see his face with a thin sheen of sweat, strumming along the guitar that hung around his torso—God, his torso—and his hair slightly covering the pair of eyes you’ve loved so deeply for a long time. His pretty face looked ethereal from where you stood, the beaming lights surrounding the stage accentuating everything that made him who he was, Suna Rintarou.

Suna’s thumb grazes your lower lip, swiping lightly with his intense gaze locked with yours. It’s hypnotizing like always. Suna’s green eyes—heavily lidded that it made him all the more pretty, all the more breathtaking—set on you as you sat on his lap, the blunt tucked in between the fingers of his other hand emitting smoke that invaded your lungs like he invaded the entirety of your mind.

You can’t look away, not even when he takes a drag of it directly in front of you—it’s frustrating how oddly seducing it was to watch him, your eyes following the way he inhaled the smoke that was toxic to his lungs like he was toxic to your own heart, poison to your own mind, venom in your bloodstream.

His lips find yours immediately, his hand that was on your face moving to the inside of your thighs and it’s enough to make you gasp—your lips parting against his as he blows out the smoke to your mouth and you inhale.

You inhale because it was more like taking him in your system than the smoke that was toxic for your lungs, poison to your mind, venom in your bloodstream.

You inhale and take him in your system. Yet you never would’ve thought he’d vanish like the same smoke going up in the air until you see it no more.

“Not shy of a spark, the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark,” You wish you were imagining it, the heavy drip of pain and contempt laced in his voice as he sang the words out. He sings like it’s flashing all in his head, every fight you both had—because it’s coming back to you too like a ton of bricks.

Or maybe the sensation of it all coming back to you is more like what the lyrics he sang suggests already, a knife to the chest so deep that there’s simply no way you’d survive from it—no way a relationship could survive from it. The knife to your chest is dug deep enough; how do you live when it’s twisted and turned so sadistically?

“You’re late again,” you mutter, sighing in exhaustion as you looked back at Suna who sat across from you from the table of the restaurant. It was your date night, scheduled already weeks before—yet he came in late—an hour late to be exact. An hour you spent giving tight lipped smiles to everyone’s gazes who fell on you near the middle of the restaurant as you waited, an hour spent smiling politely as you answered waiters who came near you asking if you’re ready to order.

An hour spent wondering why this isn’t the first nor second time he left you waiting on nights that should’ve been about the both of you.

“Look, I’m sorry, yeah?” He quipped, not bothering to even spare you a glance.

He eyes the menu while your eyes begin to sting as you hold back your tears. You want to burst, to say something—anything. Anything that would take his attention, anything that would finally tell him you can’t keep doing this.

“You don’t seem sorry, Rin,” you reply silently, gaze steady on his figure still looking through the menu. He finally looks up at you, exasperation fully evident in his features.

“What’d ya want me to say? I just ran a lil late, alright?” He snapped, the menu falling harshly down the table from his grip.

“You’ve been running a little late for months now—I’m tired of it,” your voice sounds weak, defeated. This is something you didn’t know was like knife twisted into Suna Rintarou’s heart.

“If you’re tired, then leave,” his voice was cold to a scalding degree.

Maybe the mistake was that you didn’t leave that night. That you continued something that you both should’ve tried to end that night—or at least attempted to. You didn’t know this either, but had you attempted to leave, Suna was bound to chase after you and engulf you in his arms.

But you didn’t.

“I'm going back to 505, if it's a seven-hour flight or a forty-five-minute drive. In my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs.”

Every beat of the song felt like a kick with the kind of ache you felt against your chest that seemed so constricting. It’s like you’re inhaling the same smoke from his lungs again, choking you with it.

You’re not sure how it happens, nor does it register in time when bright lights fall just where you stood—not in a dramatic sense like those god-forsaken clichéd romance novels—but simply out of coincidence. Come to think of it, had you stepped forward, you wouldn’t have been there, completely visible in his line of sight when his narrowed eyes zero on you in the crowd so easily as if you were magnet to his gaze, still.

That could’ve been the case before. But not anymore.

Not anymore, you ponder. If you hadn’t walked away and pulled from his embrace that day, would things have been different? He’s standing on a bigger stage now; oddly enough, you also heard he’s had more control of his schedule since. It’s been so long since the last time he’s seen you, been so long since he woke up to an empty bed—your warmth gone and your lingering scent on the sheets faint as if you were barely there to begin with.

Just like that, he wished he could take it all back.

The sound of Suna’s phone felt nagging and relentless. The more days passed, the more it was louder, the more his eyes remained trained on his phone.

His fidelity remained unquestioned even as your relationship with him turned disastrously strained from all the hours you’ve spent waiting, all the days you’ve spent without him, all the replies you never received—all your messages left on read like you’re looking at Suna Rintarou, your own boyfriend, through a static screen.

He continued to fall short and break your heart little by little but knowing he loved you beyond his actions was something you wholeheartedly believed; because his eyes staring back at you remained both tender and fiery like golden balance of true love.

Yet maybe you were wrong.

The final straw is the way your eyes follow the string of messages between Suna and another girl you’ve forced yourself to forget the name of. Your gaze lingers and wallow at the provocative pictures of the woman, enough to make you wonder where you lacked—where you came short.

You wished it was only that which set you apart piece by piece like a puzzle being undone and someone else stealing the pieces of yourself you thought you gave to the man you can trust those pieces with to safe-keep.

But the blue bubble saying, “Meet me in a few minutes,” on one of the nights he came late—bright blue and blinding enough to make you want to gauge your eyes out—and the following, “I’m here, where are you?” burns in the back of your head like his lit up cigarettes against your skin so fervently.

That day, little by little, you packed your things in the most discreet of ways; sure, it should’ve probably taken a lot before Suna would have noticed when he’s barely home with you—but you remained scared that he would notice and you wouldn’t say no if he asked you to stay, because that’s how much Suna had you—line, hook, and sinker.

You take one tentative step back, but your legs feel restrained and paralyzed underneath you when Suna’s eyes lock with yours, meters apart, but you would be lying if you said it’s an illusion when his eyes glimmer the same way—tender and fiery.

“But I crumble completely when you cry, it seems like once again you’d have to greet me with goodbye,” his voice sounds so much louder, so much heavier—especially with his eyes trained on you as he sang the lyrics out without waver.

Your heart swells and you think, it’s unfair. It’s unfair that his eyes looked as if he was pleading for you not to go the same way you knew he would’ve had he only known you were leaving him that day.

Suna was worn-out. Tired beyond effable means or description of words; and he thinks he couldn’t be more exhausted when he rattles on the doorknob of the home you shared with him, the place he came home to with you—only to find it locked. He’s too exhausted to notice the way the house felt emptier, seemed emptier like something—someone was missing when he pushes the key in and enters the place.

Suna was too exhausted to think you’d be gone forever; too drained to ever consider that it’ll take a year since that day before he sees you again.

Suna was too exhausted to notice the letter you left on the bedside table; too exhausted to notice you’ve been gone for a week until he comes home again for a break, only for his heart to break at the sight of the empty house. Empty; defined as: without you

You don’t notice the tears cascading down your cheeks until you see the way Suna’s eyebrows furrowed together from the stage he stood on as he continued to sing, never once taking his eyes off of you, like he’s hurting from the way he watches you cry.

“I'm always just about to go and spoil a surprise, take my hands off of your eyes too soon.” The ring placed as a pendant on the necklace around Suna’s neck glistened under the strobe lights dancing around suddenly felt heavier—so much heavier, as if it’s you who has your hands around his neck.

Maybe you do.

Maybe you do; because Suna runs off of the stage the moment the last beat of his lyrics come as he sees you finally looking away. Your figure slowly dimming away as the lights calm down to the beat of the song slowly dwindling away like you did—but never like the fire that burned in your chest at the sight of him.

You wish you could run but every step you took felt like you had boulders weighing down on your feet; as if no part of you wanted to go—and maybe that’s the miracle that Suna will forever thank whatever deity is out there for, because without it, he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to you as you attempted to drag your body and walk away, trying not to look back.

#suna x reader #suna #Suna Rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu angst #suna angst #hq suna #suna x you #RINTOBER

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imerdwarf · 4 years

Text

Sworn To Secrecy

Requested by @imagine-all-the-fandoms: Hey colleague ❤️ I really love your writing! So I also thought to send you an idea 😊 The reader is Bucky’s girlfriend but just a normal civilian and he keeps it a secret at the compound. One day she visits him but crosses the other Avengers and Sam is immediately flirting with you but Bucky just comes, swoops you in his arms and kisses you. The others are shocked and confused and later that day they finally tell them they’ve been together for a while now and they are all happy for you two? 😊

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Civilian!Reader (Modern AU)

Warnings: Absolutely none! Just a lot of fluff 🥰

Author's Notes: Thank you so much my dear friend for sending in this beautiful request, I hope you like it and please let me know if there's anything you want me to change! 💜

Your phone vibrated in the palm of your hand and your smile reached both corners of your eyes when you saw the name light up your screen.

Bucky: I can't wait to see you, how long until you get here?

Your fingers flew quickly over the touch sensitive keyboard to reply back, without any typos might I add.

Y/N: I'm five minutes away. Patience! ;)

The wind blew in your face as you tilted your head upwards and sighed. Your relationship with Bucky Barnes was absolutely not the easiest thing in the world. He had made you sworn to secrecy about it, to protect yourself and him from potential haters and enemies.

You were grateful that you were able to spend a lot of time together when he didn't have month-long missions to go on. The sunny afternoons were spent in your small apartment on the couch watching movies with a blanket draped over the two of you, often accompanied by a hot chocolate made from his secret recipe.

Everything about Bucky screamed safety; his big beefy frame, bulging biceps that he just knew you loved and deliberately bought small sizes to show them off, his thick thighs were a dream for you whenever you draped your legs over them to get comfortable. Nothing about him scared you, not even that matte black and gold Wakandan inspired arm of his. It did wonders when you were burning up with fevers.

You met Bucky by chance at a coffee shop in Brooklyn. It was a cliché moment when you accidentally turned around too quickly and spilled your hot drink over his white shirt. Endless apologies spilled from your lips while Bucky was too busy admiring your beautiful features that your words simply fell on deaf ears. To Bucky, it felt as though time had temporarily stopped ticking, and the only people in the coffee shop at that moment was you and him.

The two of you exchanged numbers with your promises of buying him a brand new shirt to replace the one you ruined. You texted each other every second of every day. The more you talked, the easier and the flirty-er the texts became.

A month after the coffee shop incident, you almost keeled over when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. He regretted he couldn't take you on a date because of his status, and that never really bothered you.

You didn't date him because he was a popular avenger, with a staggering 100 million followers on his Instagram. For your protection, he couldn't follow you either, but that too didn't bother you. You dated him because you loved his personality and you loved him.

You zig-zagged past the oncoming pedestrians as the tower came into view. Outside of the gates there was already a crowd of people hoping to catch a glimpse of the avengers.

The security guard in the booth next to the gate was trying to reason with the crowd, sadly a building this well known attracted all kinds of attention and tourism. You were told that people from Australia would come to visit.

You approached the guard with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon sir," you greeted politely, pulling some I.D out from your purse.

"Good afternoon! Are you expected here today?" The guard smiled but looked over your shoulder to see the crowd was now taking pictures of the front of the tower. He shooed them away and brought his attention back to you.

"Yes, Sergeant James Barnes is expecting me." The way his name rolled off your tongue was like drops of honey. Smooth and sweet.

The guard checked the list of visitors expected today and hummed with a smile.

"So he is. So what you do is, go to the front desk with your visitor badge and they'll direct you to his floor."

With a quiet thanks and holding on tightly to the badge, you walk through the screeching iron gates. Your shoes crunch underneath the gravel and the wind howls through the trees that gives off extra privacy.

The lady at reception greets you warmly and you relax when you give her your name and show her your visitor badge as directed by the security guard.

"Take the elevator and go to floor 13. Sergeant Barnes is currently in a meeting but he won't be too long." Another thank you passes through your lips as you head off towards the glass and chrome elevator.

The ride up to the 13 floors was agonisingly slow. Classical music filled the emptiness of the elevator. The glass casing gave you a beautiful view overlooking the grounds of the compound. A rose garden of all different shades of roses up the far left of the green garden surrounded by cherry blossoms and hydrangeas. Benches scattered across the grounds that you hoped to one day have the pleasure of sitting on and watch the bumblebees.

This was another reason Bucky loved you so much, you were so passionate and kind against wildlife and nature.

Finally, after god knows how long you've been staring out into the garden daydreaming, the elevator doors ding open and you're greeted with a muscular blond God with a red Cape hung over his back and a creepy wide grin on his face. His scruffy hair made you think he hadn't washed it in a few days.

"I was expecting someone else, but hello!" His voice seemed to boom throughout the space of whatever room this actually was. Some kind of hallway, but you're pretty sure you would hear his voice from all the way from that beautiful garden.

"Uh hello!" You stuttered, taken by surprise that there would be other people here.

"I am Thor, the God of Thunder!" His arms went wide and so did his smile. Your mouth gaped open and closed when you recognised the name. Thor. God of thunder. Of course, you read about these gods and how he ruled Asgard. Or was set to.

"Thor! Of course," you chuckled nervously, stretching your hand out in front of you, "I'm Y/N."

"It's a pleasure to meet you! Please follow me and allow me to introduce you to my mortal friends," you chuckled at that line, and adjusted your sweater.

"Friends, mortals! We have a guest, this is Y/N, A human of Earth." Thor stepped aside and your eyes widened; you were only standing in the same room as the avengers, the same people Bucky spoke so highly of. Thor told you the names of the people in front of you, everyone was there and you wondered where the hell Bucky was.

Tony was the first one to step forward and looked you up and down by moving his tinted glasses to the bridge of his nose. You relaxed when he smiled, but only slightly. You realised they had not asked why some stranger was standing in their living room.

"You know who I am?" Tony asked smugly, his arms folded over his chest.

You nodded, your eyes flickered down his chest, his arc reactor lit up in a bright blue. You almost reached out to touch it but stopped yourself before you could.

"Uh yes. You're Tony I believe?" You blushed under their gazes. Bucky told you they were the best people, but to you they were very intimidating.

"Very good. What brings you to my tower?"

"I'm here to see—"

"Wow! Who is this?" A voice yelled out from behind you. A guy you recognised as Sam, or Falcon, or Birdbrain as Bucky liked to call him.

"Y/N!" Thor answered before you could, the rest of the avengers took a seat on the couch.

"Yeah, hi," a small laugh came out and it made your cheeks heat up when his eyes raked over your form.

"My, my. You are gorgeous!" He kept that grin on his lips as he stepped closer. His over-sprayed cologne was suffocating you. "Beautiful, just perfect, just—"

"Mine!" Bucky yelled from the doorway as he stormed past Sam to get to you. You bit your lip to hide the growing grin and failed, he swooped you up in his arms, your legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he spun the two of you around and kissed you.

Cat calls sounded from the couch and you smiled into the kiss. When you pulled away for air, the expressions on everyone's faces told you they needed and wanted an explanation.

You could only imagine the questions they wanted to ask; how did you know Bucky Barnes? How did a soldier and an assassin manage to keep a relationship so hidden under the eyes of a mind-reader and a super intelligent spy? How did Bucky not slip up to Steve about having a girlfriend? All valid questions of course.

Bucky lowered you back down on your feet and pressed his forehead against yours. Without giving the team an answer, he slipped his hand in yours and pulled you away, leaving the superheroes with confusion etched upon their faces.

Bucky gave you a thorough tour of the tower. He showed you the gym, the kitchen where he made you his favourite sandwich, he even showed you his room. It was painted in a light blue with white curtains and blinds, thick, soft cream carpet covered the floor and his bed was as soft as a cloud. It was a lot more comfortable than your bed, that's for sure.

Later that day, Tony ordered a takeout and invited everyone to the dining room to eat, including you. The way Bucky's hand was slung protectively around your shoulder didn't go amiss by anyone in the room. It was when he finally sat down did the questions start.

"Alright, what's the deal with you two? Is this a prank? Is he paying you darling?" Sam fired off first, pointing his fork at the two of you opposite him.

Bucky glared at him from calling you 'darling', from where you were sat you could hear the heavy breathing. Your hand slipped into your lap and into his, giving his thigh a firm squeeze to keep calm.

"Y/N is not being paid!" Bucky defended, outraged he could even think such a thing.

You cleared your throat and took a sip of water before speaking, "it's true and I understand it's a shock but Bucky is actually my boyfriend and has been for the past couple of months," you smiled, proud of the fact you were in a relationship with this man and it was no longer secret.

"How the hell did that happen?" Tony queried, waving his chopsticks in the air, flabbergasted by the whole situation.

"What, you think I'm not capable of meeting people?" Bucky challenged, not really enjoying the interrogation which was the whole reason he didn't want to say anything at the beginning.

"Well of course I wouldn't be surprised if it was Capsicle here but it's you," Tony snorted.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bucky was yelling and turning red with anger when Nat sought the opportunity to take the heat off the two men.

"So, Y/N. Tell us about yourself."

Tags: @smokeybluebrooke-lyn @pinkdiamond1016

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

I AM SO SORRY FOR WHAT YOU'RE ABOUT TO READ.

Happy Birthday @goddessofmischief03 I'M SORRY THIS IS YOUR PRESENT FROM ME!

Part 8

The pair of you drove for hours. Zemo didn't care about where you wanted to stop. All you had to do was say the word and he would pull over here and there. You had taken so many photos on your phone. Though a lot of them were just of him. Maybe you would get those printed and make an album. Maybe you were just getting carried away.

The evening rolled in. The wicked woman had texted you an hour ago to state what time she wanted to meet you. Zemo had dropped you off, kissing you before letting you go. He left to meet with Sam, hoping to get his forgotten car back home.

You entered the bar. It was pretty empty, finding her wasn't hard. Lucky for you, she was alone. You took a deep breath as you walked over to her table and sat down, but not even offering her a smile.

On the table right in front of her was a file. That scared you. Whatever this was about, she was serious. You tried to keep your emotions at bay as you sat still, hands in your lap. You stared at her.

She stared back.

"You came," she said, almost as if she expected you not to.

"Of course I did, I'm not a horrible person who stands people up. Even if I'm here for nonsense."

She narrows her eyes at you.

"Neither am I."

"You're right. You're just blind," you cross your arms over your chest and ignore the waiter who brings you each a glass of water.

"I'm not the blind one," she hisses after he leaves.

"No? What kind of sick game are you playing here? Tony Stark isn't in love with you. It's all a publicity stunt."

"It's not!"

"See? You're blind to the truth. You're being lured in by the fact you admire him. You have been a fan of racing much longer than I. You have seen Stark win over and over again, season after season. You're in love with the idea of dating a professional racer."

She looks pissed.

"It's all lies. You know nothing. I'll show you who that man really is. Chasing Zemo is a mistake. You'll regret ever knowing him after you learn the truth."

"What truth? What are you talking about?" You try to resist raising your voice.

"This!" She slams a hand over the file.

"What is it? What's in there?"

She hands the file to you. You take it, but don't yet open it. You stare at her. On the outside you look cold, calculating. On the inside, your heart is racing and a million thoughts are running through your head. You're freaking out.

"What had Helmut Zemo told you?" She asks, looking you in the eye.

"About what?"

"About him."

"Not a lot. He is wealthy. Has houses all around Europe, owns a large collection of cars that have been passed down through his family. He doesn't have a large racing background, but he is passionate about cars." You shrug, not knowing what else to say.

"So he didn't you he was a Baron? That his family was literally royalty before Sokovia surrendered in the war? He wasn't even in the county when it collapsed. That's why he doesn't talk about it. His family is dead."

"Why are you telling me this? I know about Sokovia, it was global news. A whole country destroyed in the crossfire. If you have any respect for the dead, you'll stop talking about his family that way," you say, glaring at her.

"I'm not done. Open the file."

You glare a moment longer before you open the file. You look down at the first page you're presented with.

"Who is that?"

There was a photo of a young man. Dirty blonde hair, tall, blue eyes, sweet smile.

"That's Pietro Maximoff," she tells you that name as if you should know who he is.

"Who is he?"

"Pietro Maximoff was a racer."

"Was?"

"He died." She reaches across the table and points to some information below his photo. You can't the words on the page.

Pietro Maximoff

Deceased

Died on impact

Cause: Car accident.

Speculation of foul play by the hands of Helmut Zemo. Car appeared to have been tampered with before hand. Witness testified to sighting of Zemo tampering with car. No solid evidence provided.

You stared at the words, letting them sink in. The woman across from you says nothing as you scan the ink before you.

You swallow.

"It says no evidence was provided."

"There doesn't need to be. He was seen."

"Why who?"

"No one knows. They remained anonymous," she shrugs lightly.

"What are you trying to tell me?" You look at her. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back your emotions.

"Baron Helmut Zemo killed Pietro Maximoff because Maximoff was his competition. Zemo has raced before, but his career was cut short after this. Unfortunately there was no actual proof to pin on him, the witness only had their statement. Maximoff was the next big racer and Zemo dealt with him."

You stand abruptly.

"No."

"Zemo is a murderer," she tells you.

"Stop, please."

"He didn't tell you any of this did he?"

"You're lying."

"All the evidence is in that folder."

The tears fall. You shake your head and try to control your breathing. She's lying. She has to be.

"Stark told me everything. He even provided the information."

You shake your head again.

"I don't believe it. Why are you doing this to me? Is this your sick way of getting back at me? This is cruel. This is so cruel."

"It's the truth. You won't find anything by looking up the Baron, but if you look up Pietro Maximoff you'll find the story. Zemo killed a man so he could win. What's stopping him from doing it again?"

"Are you implying he would kill Stark? Are you insane?" You almost yell.

"He has killed a man before. What's once more?" She asks, angrily hissing out the words.

"Please don't do this to me," you plead.

"Read it. Accept it. It's true. They might not have anything solid on him, but you know as well as I that it's true."

You shake your head a third time.

"Look at it. Read the articles." She moves the file on Pietro over and underneath is a newspaper article.

Racing star, Pietro Maximoff dies in horrific accident

Baron Helmut Zemo disqualified from racing season over foul play speculation.

Helmut Zemo to stand trial

Baron Zemo walks free

"He wasn't found guilty of anything."

"I said it doesn't matter! He did it. Everyone knows he did it."

"You can't just give around accusing people of murder," you his quietly. You had sat back down, not wanting anyone to see your rage.

"Open your eyes."

"You don't know him," you say, voice falling to defeat.

"You don't know Tony Stark."

"I know him better than you." You close the file. "Do not ever come at me with this. Unless you have hard evidence that Zemo was there and had done what he was accused of, I won't believe you."

"You say that now, but trust me. You're going to come around," she gathers the file and stands up.

You watch her storm away.

You bite your cheek as tears fall. Taking out your phone, you search up Pietro Maximoff.

Zemo's name popped up several times.

He really has been accused of killing this young man.

Why did your chest hurt so much?

Maybe you should have asked him earlier when the thought crossed your mind.

You continue to sit at that table, ordering a drink mindlessly when the waiter comes over. It's all you have.

You look at the photo of Pietro on your phone. He had to be in his early twenties. Probably the youngest racer you had come across so far.

You sit there for ages, slowing drinking.

Your phone then starts to ring. You stare at the name lighting up your screen.

Zemo👑

Did you dare answer?

Having spent too long trying to decide, it clicks off. You stare at the screen. It lights up a second time.

Zemo👑

He must be worried. Yet, looking at his name flashing up on screen, dread fills you. Yob your phone, leave money for the drink, and make your way out.

The cold air of the night feels sharp and bitter against your skin. When did it get so cold? Or was that just you?

There was no one out here.

You're not sure if you felt glad about that. Your phone rings again. You know he'll be coming to pick you up, especially if you don't answer his call.

You swipe the call button and hold the phone up to your ear.

"Y/N? Thank goodness, you were not picking up. I was worried something bad happened. I'm on my way to you now, are you alright?"

You listen to his worried words. You stand there wondering who it was you were actually talking to.

"Y/N? Are you there?"

There is panic to his voice.

"Zemo..."

"Y/N? What is it? What's happened?"

You just knew he was picking up the speed right now. He was going to do anything to get to you now.

"Have you been honest with me?"

"What do you mean? Of course I have."

Lies. He is lying. That little voice in the back of your mind is repeating that to you. Lies.

You begin to cry.

"Who is Pietro Maximoff?"

Silence.

"Zemo, who is Pietro Maximoff?"

"How do you know that name?"

"Who is he?"

More silence.

You sob into the phone. His silence was an answer. He knew who you were talking about and your mind spiraled out of control.

He's dangerous. Stark was right.

You hang up. You turn your gaze down the street and decide to walk. You needed air.

Zemo was losing his mind. That wicked woman! What had she told you? Why had she brought that up?

When he realised you had hung up, he put his foot down. He had to get to you. He had to explain, he had to tell you himself.

He couldn't lose you. He couldn't.

This is not how he had imagined his night to go. Suddenly, things were falling apart.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle @fillechatoyante @lucky-luck-lucky @zemosimp420 @avengersofmischief

#zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #marvel #AU #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

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