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hotyanderedaddies · 1 year ago

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The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 3:

Hiding from the Yandere School Bully

Part 1 │ Part 2

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You left the classroom, purposefully leaving your phone behind so that Blake couldn’t contact or track you.

The bully had legit downloaded a tracking app onto your phone that required a passcode only he knew to uninstall.

“Nuh-uh,” you mumbled to yourself as you hurried down the halls, trying to think up a game plan.

Blake had made it clear that he wanted you all to himself, and that was something that you absolutely could not allow.

He’d even sent you a list of rules that he expected you to follow— the most egregious being that he expects you to call him “Daddy” tonight!

What the F?!

Well, sure the rest were pretty bad, but that last one was the one that had made you both shiver and cringe at the same time.

All morning, you’d been confused over why Blake was following you around and seemingly forcing you to be around him, but it was slowly dawning on you that it was horrifyingly possible that Blake wanted you. Romantically.

Just you.

Every single survival instinct within your body screamed at you to get as far away from Blake as possible. There was no way that you wanted to be his.

To reiterate: He’s the school bully, and you’re the biggest nerd on campus.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to deduce that that wasn’t the best combo in the world… and it seemed to end very badly for you specifically.

You didn’t have a solid plan in mind, especially with your nerves on high alert. Every single little sound that echoed out in the hallway made you jump, and you felt like you were on the verge of a total meltdown. Eventually, you decided to hide in the safest place on campus where no one ever goes: the library.

You went to your usual secluded corner where the manga section was, and hid tucked away behind the shelves and a large potted plant that shielded you from view. You were safe… you hoped.

Now just to figure out how to hide throughout the rest of the school day… and then next week, and the rest of the school year after that.

“Darn it,” you sighed, rubbing at your temples to soothe your growing headache.

You did some homework and read up on some further assignments as you stayed hidden, hearing the bell ring, signaling that it was time to go to second period—

And also meaning that Blake was on his way to your first period to escort you.

And he wouldn’t find you.

And he’d be pissed.

Out of instinct, your breath got caught in your throat and you could feel your heartbeat starting to race. Even though you owed Blake absolutely nothing at all, you were fearful about what could potentially happen to you with three strikes.

Hence, you knew that the safest/smartest thing for you to do would be to stay in the safe confines of the library for the rest of the day—

“Y/N?” the librarian asked, knowing you personally since you frequented the bookshelves a lot. “Shouldn’t you be heading to second period?”

“O-oh, yeah,” you stammered, unable to come up with a good excuse since you’re a horrible liar. “R-right.”

Feeling defeated, you slumped out of the safe library and entered the crowded hallways. Like all transition times, the hallways were tightly packed with students, shoulder-to-shoulder. It seemed like they could possibly shield you from a certain bully’s eyes.

Ducking low, you tried to sneak to your next class as best as you could. You were able to stay low and avoid detection. A little ounce of hope began to form deep within your gut, and for a brief moment, you truly believed that everything would be okay and that the whole mess from today would be nothing more than a sour memory that you’d grimace at whenever it’d flicker into your head—

“Hey! Y/N!” called a familiar, deep voice.

You winced at first, but then let out a sigh of relief when you saw none other than Jonathan approaching you.

Jonathan was the happy-go-lucky quarterback on the football team. He smiled warmly at you, and gave you a tiny wave… and truth be told, you couldn’t help but smile back the slightest bit when his grin reached your eyes. Yeah, he might be a little cute (but you’d never, ever try since your lack of a self-esteem prohibits you from asking people out). You kinda wished that it was Jonathan, and not Blake, who wanted you. Jonathan was actually nice to people!

“We still on for our tutoring session tonight?” Jonathan asked as soon as he was by your side.

Oh! You’d totally forgotten, given all of the turmoil from today. You’d promised the football player that you’d help him study for his upcoming Physics final. As his way of paying you, the two of you would often meet up at a coffee shop or little restaurant, and he’d pay for your meal.

The lonely part of you would sometimes pretend it was date. Sad? Yes. But still.

You were about to nod when the cold memory of Blake’s eerie text replayed in your mind. He’d strictly prohibited you from talking to other guys. Although, technically you were breaking that rule now by talking to Jonathan; and it’s not like you owed the school bully a gosh darn thing. But still, you didn’t want him mad at you! And going out to tutor the quarterback of the football team would definitely piss off Blake!

Wait…

The quarterback of the football team had requested your company.

The quarterback of the football team who worked out religiously and had muscles for days, and who could probably throw down with Blake need the situation arise (which you bet it would).

“Yes!” you eagerly said, blushing a little bit at how desperate you sounded. “Of course we’re still on.” You nervously looked around the crowded hallway, nearly shrieking in horror at what you saw:

Blake stood at the other end of the hallway, his eyes narrowed in your direction. His gaze kept switching between the petrified you and the oblivious Jonathan.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jonathan innocently asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Something like that.

“Um,” you muttered in your shaky voice, which grew even more shaky as soon as Blake began to shove himself through the crowd towards you, “you know what? I actually have a free period now! So, why don’t we start the tutoring now!”

You grabbed a tight hold of Jonathan’s forearm and led the confused jock through the hallway, away from Blake as fast as you could.

“Sure…?” Jonathan agreed, sounding confused beyond belief.

The two of you quickly exited the school and reached his car in the parking lot, which you eagerly hopped into. You locked the door behind you and held your breath in anticipation, refusing to exhale until Jonathan started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

Your relief was short lived, however, as you saw Blake staring daggers at you as you were driven away. He looked pissed off beyond recognition, and he held up his hand, holding up three fingers.

Strike three.

To be continued...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

P.S. the following have requested that I tag them in this update as of the posting of this! Thank you very much for reading and I hope you all enjoy this part! @mfnqueen1 @myconglomerateromance @floresialwrld @thewanderinglich @type-ink @springkuinn @guiltyconfessions @albino-absol @ju1yyyzzz @randomlyblues @greensunflowerjuna @0sassyspice0 @msvanillabean @evan-trand @eoryn-shit @jcrml @problematicreblogger @peonysposts @monstercanking @chocolatequeengiver @misspercy @pato-spoiler-27 @v-sh @wpdarlingpan @gay4letti @trashpandaas @neverlandlostchild @zoleea-exultant @angelkazusstuff @queenmimis @shadowkitty-me @mihawksdemoness @sarcastic-cookie @y0urm0m12 @m-winchester-67 @caged-birdies-blog @justatimidcreator @wonderlandwitchhera @sheanneezz @whatamidoing89

#blake the bully #yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere daddy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend #Blake #my oc #bad boy x nerd #yandere bad boy #bad boy

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firingstars · 5 days ago

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in this life | ch. 5

bucky barnes x female reader

summary: "There's only one God, doll, and He's gonna bring me back to you." "I don't need God," you told him, fresh tears brimming over your eyes. "I just need you."

warnings: 18+, mdni, brief descriptions on an injury/blood, reader momentarily gets depressed, reincarnation trope, language, mentions of financial instability/being hungry, memories are written with italicizes, no use of y/n, angst, yearning, longing, everyone's alive no one is dead because i said so, alternating pov's

word count: 5.7k

a/n: idk why this chapter was kinda difficult for me to write... i know how i want the story to end and its already written out and ready but idk whats going on the middle of this story is irking me

previous chapter | next chapter

Unknown [10:14am]: What does Traumatic Memory Rehabilitation Science actually entail? I tried Googling it, but I didn't find anything on the subject.

You stared at your phone for a few moments, hiding the device behind your laptop screen. You were in the middle of a lecture, and your professor would definitely call you out if he saw you right now. Of course, it didn’t matter to him that he was going on and on about how his wife was somehow related to this neuroscience class and there must be something wrong with her pathways in her mind for her to leave him. Sometimes you think this class was just an easy way for your professor to be able to rant to people that had no choice but to listen.

You put your phone face down, and pulled up the messages on your laptop. At the very least, you could look like you were taking notes.

Me [10:17am]: science that focuses on how trauma affects the structure and function of memory, and how the patient’s memories could be stabilized, restored, or rewritten in ethical ways. could be natural trauma or artificial trauma given by outside means

Unknown [10:19am]: Artificial trauma?

Me [10:21am]: wasn’t a huge part of why america didn’t want to give you that pardon bc of what that organization did to you? and your lawyers argued that it wasn’t your mind there?

Unknown [10:22am]: Ah. I see.

Unknown [10:23am]: I didn’t know you kept up with the case.

Me [10:26am]: my grandpa was still around when you were going through it. he would talk my ear off on the phone about how you were being treated awfully by the country and was part of the support groups outside the courtroom demanding a fairer sentence for you.

Me [10:27am]: and it was pretty big news, sergeant.

Bucky doesn’t respond, and you think you may have scared him off. After saving his phone number officially in your contacts as Sergeant Barnes, you close the messaging app. You go through the rest of your class, finishing off with another surprise quiz that you thankfully knew all the answers to, and head off to grab something to eat before going to the library to study.

You should apologize to him, you think. It may have been a lot to say all of that, all of a sudden. It could still be a sensitive topic for him, and you may have brought up a bunch of memories for him that you didn’t mean to. You want to hit yourself over the head. Your field of study is meant to help people like him, and yet you just caused issues for him.

You really could use a shot. Tequila. Vodka. Something strong. But it’s barely noon, and you still have the rest of your day ahead of you.

You push open the door to the Campus Grounds, and stop in your tracks.

You didn’t scare him off.

Your eyes fall on his figure almost instantly. Buckty’s wearing that same leather jacket that he always seems to wear. He looks a little cleaner today, beard a little shorter than the last time you saw him. The dark circles under his eyes are lighter, an indication of more sleep. His shoulders aren’t wound up too tight either.

And he turns to you, as if he’s been waiting for you this entire time. Your heart flutters as caterpillars hatch from their cocoons and turn into butterflies in your stomach.

“Doll,” he greeted. The nickname still makes your mind run circles, but you force yourself back into reality as you focus on his next words. “Fancy seeing you here. Didn’t know you came here, too.”

“At my university’s cafe?” you asked, tilting your head. “The university where I attend school? Spend a majority of my day at?”

Bucky cleared his throat, obviously caught. “Stark told me that the food here was good. I’m expanding my palate…” The man before you pauses, eyebrows furrowing at the menu. “What the hell is a matcha?”

“Depends. Do you want it iced or hot?” you chuckled, stepping into the line.

“How do you take it?”

“Iced, with oat milk, and a pump of vanilla,” you answered.

Bucky looked a bit helpless at your words, so you repeated the order back at the barista, including two ham and cheese croissant sandwiches to be warmed up as well before giving her your phone number to use your meal points.

When the drinks come out, you watch as Bucky takes an experimental sip before looking a little confused at the flavors on his tongue before seemingly accepting whatever was going on. You let out a small laugh.

“Not bad?” you guess.

“Not bad,” he agreed, following you as you make your way out towards the door. You hand him his croissant. “What’s your plans today?”

“Studying. We’re towards the end of the semester, and I have finals coming up in a few weeks. I’ll graduate in the winter once I’m done with the upcoming term.”

“Impressive,” Bucky hummed beside you, taking a bite of his croissant.

“Any Avengers need a therapist?” you asked, glancing at him. Thankfully, he doesn’t look too bothered by your text conversation from earlier this morning. If he was, you were sure that he wouldn’t even be here, still walking beside you right now.

The man chuckled beside you, smiling. “None of them wants to admit that right now.”

“Pity,” you said sarcastically. After a beat, you added, “Sorry. If my message to you earlier was a bit heavy.”

“Not at all,” he shook his head, “I just started driving, so I couldn’t reply.”

“Ah.” So you were overthinking it. Makes sense.

“It would’ve been nice,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “If your field of study was finalized and completed when I was first put back out in the world. I think it would’ve been helpful for me to be regulated back into society.”

You give him a small smile. “Sorry about that. Took me a bit to decide what I wanted to study. Took a few years of a gap year before I went back to school.”

Bucky chuckled, and took another sip of his matcha latte. It looked like it was growing on him. Either that, or he just wasn’t picky about food.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities to help people other than me,” he told you.

“I hope so. Otherwise all this student debt will be for fucking nothing,” you grunt. Another smaller laugh escapes his lips, and you find that the noise awakens a small flutter in your chest that will keep you feeling warm and fuzzy.

Your feet come to a slow as you stop at the library commons, and you turn to look at Bucky. He looks back at the building briefly before turning to you, giving you a small smile and nod.

“Well. Happy studying,” he said, albeit a little awkwardly.

“Is that all? You just came here to get some matcha and walk me to my university’s library?”

“I just wanted to see your face today,” he admitted.

You really didn’t expect him to be so upfront with his words. You couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent your lips from curling even wider than they already were.

“I would say I would FaceTime you later so you can see my face again, but I noticed that the message bubbles I sent you weren’t blue. What do you have? Android?”

“Uh. Flip phone.”

You stared at him for a brief second, searching his face for the joke.

There was none.

“I’ll call you later,” you settled on.

“I’ll wait for it,” he replied, letting out a breath of relief.

Adding calling Bucky to the list of things to do every night was as easy as adding something to your nighttime skincare routine. First step: remove makeup with micellar water. Follow up with a makeup balm. Wash your face with a cleanser. Pat dry with a towel. Use a toner. Moisturize. Call Bucky.

The first night had your heart racing on whether or not you should even call him, too. You were pacing around in your apartment. You stared at your phone on your bed as if it was a bomb that you had to defuse within the next few moments. You told him that you would call, but it was past midnight and you just got off your shift. You had no idea what the bedtime schedule was like for an Avenger, but you told him that you would call. Eventually, you decided that you would at least try to call. If he didn’t answer, then you would send a follow up text for an apology.

Bucky answered right away.

“Thought you weren’t gonna call,” is what he said as soon as the line connected.

“Wasn’t sure if you were still going to be awake,” you replied softly.

“You said you were gonna call. I waited.”

You aren’t sure why your chest squeezed at those words. You swallowed thickly, and took in a shaky breath as you clutched the phone tighter in your hands, trying to formulate another sentence to force out past your lips.

“You know I only work night shifts at the diner, right? I always close,” you told him.

“I know.”

“Then you don’t have to stay awake because I say stuff like that. What if I didn’t call you? Would you stay awake all night next to your phone until I called?” you asked. You weren’t scolding him, you weren’t badgering him– you were just a little stressed. A little worried.

“I knew you would,” he replied. There was so much certainty in his voice. The steadiness.

“How are you so sure?”

“I just knew you would.” Again, there was nothing in his words that wavered.

You paused, letting it sink in for a few moments as your heart thumped in your chest. You dug your nails into your palm, allowing the bite against your skin remind you that this was reality, and you were alive at this very moment.

“Do you want me to keep calling you?” you asked in a whisper.

“I wouldn’t mind it,” he said. A pause. “I like hearing your voice, too.”

From that point forth, Bucky continued to answer every single call without fail. Most of the time, each call was answered within the first ring. Sometimes the call went to the second, but never the third. Your calls had never gone to voicemail once. It was almost as if he anticipated your calls every single night.

You began to look forward to every single one of your calls. It became the highlight of your day, the thing that you looked forward to most after the long and stressful day.

By the second week of your nightly calls, you were really appreciating it. He helped you study. You would have your phone on speaker, on your desk beside your textbooks as you pulled out concepts and verbiage from your brain as if you were teaching a lesson to him, and ask him if he understood a single thing that you just told him. Sometimes you would text him your study guides and he would test you, then let you know what you needed to improve on. You were certain that he heard you slam your forehead on your desk several times over the past fourteen days.

Moreover, Bucky was not much of a talker, which meant that he was a great listener. When you were done studying, your phone would be resting beside your pillow as you laid down. The lights would be turned off and you would close your eyes as you talked to him.

It was as if he knew you were drifting off to sleep. His voice would be softer during these moments. Lower, slightly gravely. Sometimes, both of you would get a little bit more vulnerable in your sleepier states.

“You should really sleep earlier,” he would tell you. “Your health might take a hit if you keep this habit up.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy sleeping,” you confessed to him.

“It’s good for you. Especially with the amount of studying that you do.”

You sigh deeply, pulling your blankets higher up your body. “I know, I know. I just… I don’t sleep well. I wake up and I’m sad. I wake up and I wish I never woke up. And I don’t mean that in a… sad, depressed way– even though it sounds like it. I just want to stay in my dreams.”

Bucky was quiet for a few moments. “You mean the dreams about the soldier?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Does that sound pathetic?”

“No,” he answered without skipping a beat. “It means you’re happy there.”

“Then doesn’t that mean I’m sad out here?” you ask with a soft laugh.

“You tell me. Are you?”

It’s your turn to fall silent. You don’t know how much or how little time has passed in your sleepy state before you finally answer, “I think I’m not as sad since I met you.”

“That’s good. I think I enjoy life a little more, too.”

“Even though all I talk to you about is the ethics and neuroscience of trauma?” you joke.

“I have a lot of trauma myself, so it’s interesting to know how the trauma affects the neural pathways of my brain and the rest of my body,” he responds with a soft chuckle.

“Mm… Just wait until I get to the section on how your muscles hold all that trauma. It’s not just your brain, Sergeant,” you murmur, shifting deeper into your pillow.

“I have seventy years of muscular and mental trauma. How long do you think that will take to undo?”

“You can’t undo trauma, Bucky,” you hum. “I can teach you how to live with it, to learn how to regain yourself from the experiences that you’ve been through– but you can’t undo what ultimately has brought you here. Your trauma isn’t you. But what you do with the trauma is what’s important. Do you carry it and let it weigh you down? Do you let it fuel you and all your rage? Or do you let it be the reason to be a better person?”

“I wish you were my therapist when I had to have one,” he tells you after a few moments, his voice soft.

Bucky doesn’t choose to elaborate on the topic of trauma any further, or tell you more about his past. You already have a decent understanding of what the Winter Soldier is and what he did based on what was leaked to the public years ago. You don’t push him when he decides to brush it off.

You let out a small laugh, smiling into your sheets. “Don’t forget to tell your Avenger friends about me.”

“I think I might keep you all to myself, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think I mind that, either.”

Sometimes, Peter disappears without a trace and MJ gets irritable. However, she knows what she signed up for when she became Spider-Man’s girlfriend. She knows that she can’t be too upset with him, though Peter really does try to let her know whenever he leaves. Peter just has a one track mind. He hyper focuses on one thing and forgets everything else.

Bucky doesn’t do that with you. You got a message from him a few days ago letting you know that he will be busy. You expected it to come sooner or later. You were surprised that it wasn’t sooner. Bucky has a job– a very demanding job. One that you can’t ever imagine yourself being in that world or in that kind of life. However, he still communicates with you, which is more than you can say Peter does with MJ.

Sergeant Barnes [7:27am]: I will not be able to make our meetings for the next few days. I will let you know when I am back in the city. Will be in Malaysia. My phone will be off.

Me [7:30am]: stay safe bucky

Sergeant Barnes [7:31am]: Always.

The fact that he calls your nightly calls a meeting makes you smile at your phone. You think he’s cute. His age is also showing from the way that he texts you, but you decide to let it slide. If you think about it realistically, the man is only in his early to mid thirties if you’re doing the math right. You’re well aware he was born in 1917, but with the amount of time that he had lost in between with everything that went on with his life— that is an age gap that you can get behind.

“What are you smiling so wide about right now?” MJ grunted, hitting your hip with hers as she walked by. “Table seven needs refills.”

“I was already on my way,” you shoot back, picking up the water pitcher as you fix your grin.

You’re overthinking, you’re pretty certain. He’s a friend. There’s nothing more to the calls that have been going on every night since you said you would call him. You don’t hang on to every single word he says like it’s a prayer, and you certainly don’t find yourself lulling yourself to bed to his soft whispers every single night like it’s a lullaby. Your mood hasn’t improved the past few weeks, and you’re not smiling more often. You’re definitely not more energized even though you’re losing more sleep by staying up an extra hour later to talk to him longer on the phone, and lying to him by saying that you truly do sleep that late anyways.

You’re a goner and you know it– and you’ve only seen the man in person a handful of times. You were more than certain that he was haunting your mind more than you were haunting his.

“You look like shit,” you told MJ once the night was over. “Tonight wasn’t even all that bad.”

MJ glared at you as she clocked out on the computer, and waited for you to do the same so you two could walk out together. Your routes home were the same part of the way until they diverged.

“Peter’s still gone. Still have no idea where he is or when he’s coming back,” she muttered, shoving her arms through the sleeves of her jacket haphazardly. You think she’s crazy for even wearing a jacket in the middle of summer, but you don’t mention it with her current mood. “So yes, I am a little pissed off.”

“Did he leave in the middle of the night again?” you asked, closing down the computer.

“No, he woke me up this time,” she sighed. You two walked out the back, locking the door behind you. “Still, it was really early in the morning and he didn’t explain much before he left. Though, he really can’t ever explain much.”

“I’m sorry, MJ,” you said, a small cringe running through your body. You really can’t imagine what she’s going through.

Though, then again, you’re not even sure why Bucky felt the need to tell you that he was going off the grid for a few days. Or even why he told you where he was going for the mission, either. You were certain that was some kind of classified information if even MJ couldn’t know– if Peter wouldn’t tell her before he left.

Was it a mistake? Did he mean to tell you all of that information? Or was something going on through his mind that made him accidentally send that to you when he didn’t mean to. Either way, you had more information than MJ, and you weren’t even sure if you were allowed to tell her. You weren’t totally sure what telling her would even do. There would be no purpose in giving her the location. Malaysia was a large place– the Avengers could be everywhere and anywhere. Besides that, maybe Bucky and Peter weren’t even in the same area doing the same mission.

You decided to keep your mouth shut, even though you didn’t feel particularly good about it. Then again, you’ve held enough secrets of your own from your friends over the years. You have a lot of your own issues that they don’t know, and you’re more than certain they will never find out.

Maybe that’s why you feel a certain attachment to Bucky. He knows about your dream soldier boy, and never judged you for it. He brought him up once or twice, too. Bucky knows more about you in the past few weeks that you’ve known him versus the past few years that you have known your friends.

It makes you feel guilty, in a way. Peter has shared his own secrets with you– something that he had no obligation to share with you. It was something that was originally held between the three of them, but he felt that you were important enough to know about it. MJ has some familial issues and has problems letting people close to her, but she still finds herself opening up to you and starting conversations with you more than you start them with her. You’re not super close with Ned, but you know the guy is more than happy to talk to you about any kind of project that he’s working on at the moment. Both him and Peter enjoy spilling whatever information they can spare on whatever work they’re doing.

And yet, you’ve never told them the real reason why you’re studying what you study.

You wish MJ a good night, and tell her to get some rest as your paths split and she heads down her road to her place that she shares with Peter. You make your way down to your own.

New York’s summer nights are muggy. Slightly humid, but better than when the sun is out and beating down on your skin like it’s trying to wear you down. It’s not bad at all, seeing as you’ve lived here for the majority of your life, but you can still see yourself moving out of this busy city and somewhere quieter.

Away from this nonsense and drama. Maybe you’d be able to run away from your own head if you tried hard enough.

You push the thought away as you push your apartment door open. It’s creaky, and you know you need to spray drown the hinges with WD-40 again.

You toe your sneakers off and hang your purse on the hooks that you nailed to the wall when you first moved in— holes that you would have to fill later on when you eventually move out if you want your security deposit back. Your feet ache against the creaking floorboards that are only slightly dampened by the carpet runner that you put in the entranceway of your apartment.

You hate this place, as much as you try to deny it.

You despise the overhead lighting that you never flicker on because it’s too bright, but you also never turn on the various amounts of mood lighting that you thrifted from corner stores because you simply can’t be bothered. You can’t stand the way your landlord sometimes forgets to pay the building’s AC bill, even though you slave away every single day to pay your rent and utilities. You shouldn’t have to suffer for some fucking comfort in your own home.

You hate the cheap mattress that you barely could afford, that you cried when you bought— not out of happiness, but because you knew you wouldn’t be able to eat real meals for the next week until your next paycheck hit.

This entire place was a death sentence in your mind. It wasn’t home. It was simply a place to rest when you weren’t running around outside, trying to pretend that your mind was right and your life was stable, and the diagnoses the doctors gave you years ago weren’t looming over your head.

Your stomach growls, and you know you don’t have substantial ingredients in your kitchen to satiate you. You should’ve eaten more on campus earlier today, and you want to kick yourself for your lack of insight.

You still drag your tired body to the kitchen to find what you can, ripping open the old fridge. What stares back at you is empty shelves and a half drunk water bottle along with some celery.

You settle for the celery, grumbling to yourself.

“Maybe I’ll use the ten thousand for groceries,” you mutter, leaning against the counter.

“Gave it to you so you could use it, not save it.”

Your heart leaps out of your body, and you drop the celery in your hand as you shriek. You turn quickly, looking over the kitchen peninsula towards your living room— in the darkness of your apartment, lit only by the streetlights pouring from your windoes, you see a figure.

He’s sitting on the couch, draped over the armrest. His head is resting against the wall— his chest falling and rising in uneven motions. He looks to be wearing gear. He looks like a shadow.

“Bucky?” you breathe, your heart still stuttering in your chest wildly. “What the fuck?”

“Hey,” he greets with a grunt, but he doesn’t move from his place on the couch. “Sorry. Needed a place to just.. Lay low.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, moving slowly.

You go to the windows, closing the blinds and drawing the curtains shut before turning on the lamp. Lay low— you assume no one knows he’s here. You want to interrogate him on why and how he’s in your apartment, but with proper light illuminating him, you find the question long gone and missing from your lips.

He’s injured. Badly.

His vest is ripped at his side, and he’s pressing his flesh hand to it, though you can still see his skin stained with his own blood. His forehead also seems to be gashed, and there’s a deep bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, and his lip is split. You’re not sure of what other injuries he could be hiding under the layers of gear he’s wearing, too.

“What…” you whispered.

“The drawings are nice,” he said, clearing his throat. You follow his eyes to your coffee table, where your sketches of the soldier man from your dream are haphazardly strewn about. You were going to scan them and post them in the morning. “You’re talented.”

“Wait— no,” you denied. You’re not letting him breeze past the clear issue at hand here. “I need— Fucking. Washcloth?”

Your mind is short circuiting as you quickly rush through your apartment, turning lights on as you go. You bring your CVS bought first aid kit along with a small bowl filled with water and several other washcloths to the living room, pushing your sketches and other art supplies to the floor to make space.

You’re on your knees in front of him, gently peeling his hand away from his side to inspect the gash on his side. You’re glad you’re not squeamish from the years you’ve spent in the city, but the wound is deep and angry and red— and you are not qualified for such an injury.

“I am not medically trained. At all,” you tell him, panic flashing through your face. Then you demand, “Why did you come here?”

“You’re safe.”

Your breath stops, just for a moment. Bucky isn’t saying that your apartment is safe. That this area in New York is safe— you are someone safe. In just two words, he’s telling you everything.

You clench your jaw and dip your washcloth into the bowl of water and bring it to the gash on his side. Your eyes flicker to his face. He never flinches. His muscles don’t ripple in pain. His body doesn’t betray him in a way that yours does when you poke at a bruise that you know you shouldn’t be touching.

It breaks your heart and soul all the same.

It’s quiet between you two as you go through three more washcloths to remove the dried blood from his body. Then you open up the first aid kit. You’ve never had to use it before other than for some bandaids.

You don’t even realize your hands are trembling until his metal hand rests on yours. You lift your head to lock eyes with his. His face is gentle, despite the amount of pain that you’re sure is racing through his body at this moment.

“There should be a pair of gloves,” he said, his voice even. You blink for a moment before realizing that he’s directing you on what needs to be done. You quickly move.

You slide the gloves, eyes darting all over the first aid kit you bought. You were paranoid when you bought it– this expensive thing. You weren’t even sure why you got it, when all you used it for was a few bandaids here and there every once in a while. You praised your past self for this very moment now.

“Saline, antiseptic, and ointment,” he continued, and you pull out each corresponding item from the kit. “Help me clean the wound. Use the gauze. After that, try to find something called a butterfly bandage, if you know what that is.”

You don’t fucking know what that is, but you’re not going to voice that out to him right now.

Instead, you force your muscles to move past the fear in your body. Bucky is still directing you through the entire thing like you are the one that’s injured here– like you’re the one that’s a few seconds from passing out from pain. You want to scream at your own uselessness, but you know that it isn’t true. Bucky wouldn’t have come here if he thought you were useless.

As the bandage goes on, and you tighten his wound shut, he finally lets out a breath and relaxes against your couch cushions.

“Is that it?” you whispered, eyes flitting across his face.

“That’s the worst of it, yes,” he nodded, closing his eyes.

“There’s more?” you demanded, horrified.

Bucky lets out a chuckle, as if this situation is funny to him. Maybe it is. To him, probably it is. This is just another regular Thursday to him. For you– this is the first time that you’re ever coming close to a situation like this.

“I heal faster than the average human. I’ll be okay. This one is just pretty bad, I promise.”

You don’t believe him, not fully. You clench your jaw as you clean up the bloodied gauze and washcloths– tossing them into your garbage bin before going into your freezer to grab a few ice cubes to throw into a ziplock bag for the bruise on his face. He takes it without complaint.

Questions are spinning through your head, nagging at you deeply. The words are threatening to spill out of your mouth, and you’re not sure that you can stop it.

“Is… Is Steve okay? Peter?” you asked.

Bucky’s eyes flicker to you, eyebrows furrowing at you briefly. “I understand you asking about Steve. But Peter?”

“Spider-Man,” you whispered in correction, swallowing thickly. Recognition dawns on his face as you reveal that you know. Bucky lets out a small breath, a silence settling over the two of you. He doesn’t press for any other details.

“Mine was a solo mission. Everyone’s out doing their own thing right now. Most of them are in teams. Haven’t heard any of the others being injured or hurt.”

Relief fills your body. Your shoulders sag briefly as you move to sit on the opposite end of the couch from him.

“New York is pretty far from Malaysia, Buck… How the hell did you drag your battered body all the way to my apartment?” The question came from your lips before you could think that he may not even be able to answer you.

“Tracked down the target from Malaysia to the outskirts of New York,” he answered without hesitation. “Didn’t wanna head back into the base looking like this.”

“So you thought that waiting in my apartment like this for me to come home was any better?” you asked, eyes wide.

“Well, I had a feeling that you would just take care of me rather than demand to know the details of the mission first,” he replied, shaking his head. There was the faintest of smiles on his face that you could see in the dim lighting of your apartment.

“Is it okay for me… to know all of this?” you asked wearily.

“You won’t become a target, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he quickly answered you, his voice serious.

You shook your head immediately. “No– no. That’s not what I meant. Won’t you get in trouble? With… whoever your bosses are?”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em,” Bucky said with a shrug. Then, he looked at you, eyes catching yours. You couldn’t look away, caught in the stormy blue of his face. “You’re not scared?”

“I don’t think you would do anything that could ever get me hurt,” you murmured honestly. You pause. “You’re not afraid that I won’t leak your location to the world?”

The smile came back on his face. “Like I said, doll– you’re safe. I don’t worry about much when you’re around.”

You don’t know how long you spend staring at him, your heart thumping erratically in your chest again. It’s not from the fear of being shocked by a man in your apartment, or the panic that the man is Bucky injured in your apartment. It’s that stupid nickname that your soldier calls you, it’s the way the word falls from Bucky’s lips so casually and easily. It’s as if this was right, for him to always call you this.

Your apartment suddenly feels whole. Warm. The space that felt empty a few moments ago is taken over with enough joy that you’re certain that you could spend the rest of your days here as long as Bucky continues to look at you the way that he’s looking at you right now.

With trust. You don’t even know why he trusts you. Why he’s so unwavering in his faith in you.

It’s terrifying all the same. You don't think you deserve it.

“There’s this Chinese place that’s 24/7,” you whispered, breaking the silence. “Do you want take out?”

Bucky’s smile grows a bit wider and he nods at you. “That sounds great.”

next chapter | masterlist

taglist: @kitkatyap @bitchycheesecakecat @saintserpentine @miss-chuchu @majorasbat @sleepdeprivedfrfr @shortandb1tchy @bruiscdlikeviolets @thebuckybarnesvault @alltheusersaregone @1967barracuda @ab-baybay @ilovegojotbh @cheriecelestial @clairdelunea @intothesoul @thelittleredbean @the-salty-asian @sagittariussupernova @sebastians-love @duacruel @phoenix666stuff @lvrrinx @kjmonster111 @tangledinpeonies @winter-crow @aligned-starz

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

Text

Kickstarting “The Bezzle” audiobook, sequel to Red Team Blues

I'm heading to Berlin! On January 29, I'll be delivering Transmediale's Marshall McLuhan Lecture, and on January 30, I'll be at Otherland Books (tickets are limited! They'll have exclusive early access to the English edition of The Bezzle and the German edition of Red Team Blues!).

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to last year's Red Team Blues, featuring Marty Hench, a hard-charging, two-fisted forensic accountant who spent 40 years in Silicon Valley, busting every finance scam hatched by tech bros' feverish imaginations:

http://thebezzle.org

Marty Hench is a great character to write. His career in high-tech scambusting starts in the early 1980s with the first PCs and stretches all the way to the cryptocurrency era, the most target-rich environment for scamhunting tech has ever seen. Hench is the Zelig of tech scams, and I'm having so much fun using him to probe the seamy underbelly of the tech economy.

Enter The Bezzle, which will be published by Tor Books and Head of Zeus on Feb 20: this adventure finds Marty in the company of Scott Warms, one of the many bright technologists whose great startup was bought and destroyed by Yahoo! (yes, they really used that asinine exclamation mark). Scott is shackled to the Punctuation Factory by golden handcuffs, and he's determined to get fired without cause, so he can collect his shares and move onto the next thing.

That's how Scott and Marty find themselves on Catalina island, the redoubt of the Wrigley family, where bison roam the hills, yachts bob in the habor and fast food is banned. Scott invites Marty on a series of luxury vacations on Catalina, which end abruptly when they discover – and implode – a hamburger-related Ponzi scheme run by a real-estate millionaire who is destroying the personal finances of the Island's working-class townies out of sheer sadism.

Scott's victory is bittersweet: sure, he blew up the Ponzi scheme, but he's also made powerful enemies – the kinds of enemies who can pull strings with the notoriously corrupt LA County Sheriff's Deputies who are the only law on Catalina, and after taking a pair of felony plea deals, Scott gets the message and never visits Catalina Island again.

That could have been the end of it, but California's three-strikes law – since rescinded – means that when Scott picks up one more felony conviction for some drugs discovered during a traffic stop, he's facing life in prison.

That's where The Bezzle really gets into gear.

At its core, The Bezzle is a novel about the "shitty technology adoption curve": the idea that our worst technological schemes are sanded smooth on the bodies of prisoners, mental patients, kids and refugees before they work their way up the privilege gradient and are inflicted on all of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

America's prisons are vicious, brutal places, and technology has only made them worse. When Scott's prison swaps out in-person visits, the prison library, and phone calls for a "free" tablet that offers all these services as janky apps that cost ten times more than they would on the outside, the cruelty finds a business model.

Working inside and outside the prison Marty Hench and Scott Warms figure out the full nature of the scam that the captive audience of prisoners are involuntary beta-testers for, and they discover a sprawling web of real-estate fraud, tech scams, and offshore finance that is extracting fortunes from the hides of America's prisoners and their families. The criminals who run that kind of enterprise aren't shy about fighting for what they've got, and they're more than happy to cut some of LA County's notorious deputy gangs in for a cut in exchange for providing some kinetic support for the project.

The Bezzle is exactly the kind of book I was hoping I'd get to write when I kicked off the Hench series – one that decodes the scam economy, from music royalties to prison videoconferencing, real estate investment trusts to Big Four accounting firm bogus audits. It's both a fast-moving, two-fisted crime novel and a masterclass on how the rich and powerful get away with both literal and figurative murder.

It's getting a big push from both my publishers and I'll be touring western Canada and the US with it. The early reviews are spectacular. But despite all of this, I had to make my own audiobook for it, which I'm pre-selling on Kickstarter:

http://thebezzle.org

Why? Because Audible – Amazon's monopoly gatekeeper to the audiobook world, with more than 90% of the market – refuses to carry my work.

Audible uses Digital Rights Management to lock every audiobook they sell to their platform. Legally, only an Audible-authorized app can decrypt and play the audiobooks they sell you. Distributing a tool that removes Audible DRM is a felony under Section 1201 of the 1998 DMCA.

That means that if you break up with Audible – delete your Audible apps – you will lose your entire audiobook library. And the fact that you're Audible's hostage makes the writers you love into their hostages, too. Writers understand that if they leave the Audible platform, their audience will have to choose between following them, or losing all their audiobooks.

That's how Audible gets away with abusing its performers and writers, up to and including the $100m Audiblegate wage-theft scandal:

https://www.audiblegate.com/

Audible can steal $100m from its writers…and the writers still continue to sell on the platform, because leaving will cost them their audience.

This is canonical enshittification: lock in users, then screw suppliers. Lots of companies abuse DRM to do this, but none can hold a candle to Amazon, who understand that the DMCA is a copyright law that protects corporations at the expense of creators.

Under DMCA 1201 commercial distribution of a "circumvention device" carries a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. That means that if I write a book, pay to have it recorded, and then sell it to you through Audible, I am criminally prohibited from giving you the tool to take it from Audible to another platform. Even though I hold the copyright to that work, I would face a harsher sentence than you would if you simply pirated the audiobook from some darknet site. Not only that: if you shoplifted the audiobook in CD form, you'd get a lighter sentence than I, the copyright holder, would receive for giving you a tool to unlock it from Amazon's platform! Hell, if you hijacked the truck that delivered the CD, you'd get off lighter than I would. This is a scam straight out of a Marty Hench novel.

This is batshit. I won't allow it. My books are licensed on the condition that they must not be sold with DRM. Which means that Audible won't sell my books, which means that my publishers are thoroughly disinterested in paying thousands of dollars to produce audiobooks of my titles. A book that isn't sold in the one store than accounts for 90% of all sales is unlikely to do well.

That's where you come in. Since 2020, I've used Kickstarter to pre-sell five of my audiobooks (I wrote nine books during lockdown!). All told, I've raised over $750,000 (gross! but still!) on these crowdfunders. More than 20,000 backers have pitched in! The last two of these books – The Internet Con and The Lost Cause – were national bestsellers.

This isn't just a way for me to pay off a lot of bills and put away something for retirement – it's proof that readers care about supporting writers and don't want to be locked in by a giant monopolist that depends on its drivers pissing in bottles to make quota.

It's a powerful message about the desire for something better than Amazon. It's part of the current that is driving the FTC to haul Amazon into court for being a monopolist, and also part of the inspiration for other authors to try treating Amazon as damage and routing around it, with spectacular results:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dragonsteel/surprise-four-secret-novels-by-brandon-sanderson

And I'm doing it again. Last December, I went into Skyboat Media's studios where Gabrielle De Cuir directed @wilwheaton, who reprised his role as Marty Hench for the audiobook of The Bezzle. It came out amazing:

https://archive.org/details/bezzle-sample

Now I'm pre-selling this audiobook, as well as the ebook and hardcover for The Bezzle. I'm also offering bundles with the ebook and audiobook for Red Team Blues (naturally these are all DRM-free). You can get your books signed and personalized and shipped anywhere in the world, courtesy of Book Soup, and I've partnered with Libro.fm to deliver DRM-free audiobooks with an app for people who don't want to mess around with sideloading.

I've also got some spendy options for high rollers. There's three chances to name a character in the next Hench novel (Picks and Shovels, Feb 2025). There's also five chances to commission a Hench short story about your favorite tech scam, and get credited when the story is published.

The Kickstarter runs for the next three weeks, which should give me time to get the hardcopy books signed and shipped to arrive around the on-sale date. What's more, I've finally worked out all the post-Brexit kinks with shipping my UK publisher's books to EU backers. I'm working with Otherland Books to fulfill those EU orders, and it looks like I'm going to be able to sign a giant stack of those when I'm in Berlin later this month to give the annual Marshall McLuhan lecture at the Canadian embassy:

https://transmediale.de/en/2024/event/mcluhan-2024

Red Team Blues and its sequels are some of the most fun – and informative – work I've done in my quarter-century career. I love how they blend technical explanations of the scam economy with high-intensity technothrillers. That's the the same mix as my bestselling YA series Little Brother series – but these are firmly adult novels.

The Bezzle came out great. I hope you'll give it a try – and that you'll come out to see me in late February when I hit the road with the book! Here's that Kickstarter link again:

http://thebezzle.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/10/the-bezzle/#marty-hench

#pluralistic #kickstarter #audible #the bezzle #bezzles #prison tech #disciplinary technology #crowdfunding #wilw #wil wheaton #audiobooks #publishing #science fiction #marty hench #martin hench #red team blues #shitty technology adoption curve #reits

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lipstick-and-libraries · 5 months ago

Text

Between the Lines

PT. 4

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: When You and Minho are paired for a class project, unexpected moments of honesty and tension arise. Between late-night conversations and shared silences, you discover that some things are harder to hide than you thought.

𓋜 Notes:

Hello my loves!!

I know that I take a while to upload, however, i fully intend to finish this small series and still give you more than just 4 chapters, soo..what would you think about another chapter coming out directly after this as a thank you for everyone who so kindly supports my thoughts that I didnt expect anyone to see.

Anyhow, I hope you guys are fans of slowburn and heartbreak because from now on this rollercoaster will get a little more bumpy, love will do that to you, and especially to You and Minho <3

𓋜 Taglist:

@finnbbl

@literallysza

@knivesdoingcartwheels

@teaandbacon

@dragonwitchy

@formula1mount

@strayk1ds143

@uhsophiesblog

@iweirdthingsblog

@random-human02

@elizabethgracie

@verycoolmiyah

@mintydump

@shiiiii-okayyyy

@munsonsquinn

@tagakalat

@mirahyun

@cultish-corner

A special thank you to everyone on the taglist, i love you guys ꨄ

Please do let me know if i have forgotten you, i keep the names in my notes app so i shouldnt forget anyone but if it happens anyway i am deeply sorry

If you want to be added to the taglist, just put it in the comments, your reposts or in my asks, even if I havent answered I 100% have seen it and added you <33

Enough talking from my side though, enjoy you study date with Minho

The buzz from the creative showcase announcement still lingered around KISS like an unspoken challenge. Posters were plastered on every wall, reminding students of the looming event hosted by none other than Minho’s father—a showcase designed to highlight the best talents at the school. For most, it was an opportunity. For Minho, it was a reminder of everything he tried to avoid: expectations, vulnerability, and being seen beyond the carefully curated persona he presented to the world.

But none of that mattered right now.

Because Minho was staring at the name list posted outside his literature class, and there it was—bold and undeniable:

Group Project Partners: Minho & (Y/N)

He blinked, hoping his eyes were deceiving him. They weren’t.

“Wow,” Q’s voice broke through Minho’s silent panic, appearing over his shoulder with an amused grin. “Fate really isn’t subtle, huh?”

Dae chuckled beside him, leaning casually against the wall. “You’ll survive. Maybe.”

Minho shot them both a glare before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s just a project. No big deal.”

But it was a big deal. Because every time he was around (Y/N), he turned into the version of himself he didn’t recognize—awkward, uncertain, and far too aware of every glance, every word, every silence. She had this way of looking at him, like she could see past the walls he’d built, and it unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

The first meeting was scheduled for the library, an attempt to maintain some semblance of professionalism. Minho arrived early—an unfamiliar habit—but he told himself it was because he wanted to pick the best table. Definitely not because he was nervous.

He chose a spot near the back, where the shelves of books created a semi-private alcove. The table was sturdy, the chairs comfortable, and the lighting just bright enough to work without being harsh. He set his bag down, pulled out his notebook, and tried to focus on the assignment sheet. But his mind kept drifting, replaying every interaction he’d ever had with (Y/N), searching for clues on how to navigate this.

When she finally arrived, balancing her laptop and a stack of books, she gave him a polite nod. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Minho replied, sitting up straighter than necessary. He gestured to the chair across from him. “I figured this spot would be quiet enough.”

“Good call,” she said, sliding into the seat and setting her things down. She opened her laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating her face as she pulled up their assignment. “So, any ideas?”

Minho scrambled to focus. “Uh, yeah. Maybe we could… compare themes? Like, how the author explores identity or something.”

(Y/N) glanced at him, her expression neutral. “That’s vague.”

“Well, it’s a start,” he muttered defensively, crossing his arms over his chest.

She sighed softly, but there was no malice in it. “Okay. Let’s break it down.”

They worked in relative silence, punctuated by occasional questions and the awkward brush of hands when they reached for the same notebook. Minho tried to ignore the way his heart raced at the brief contact, the way her proximity made it hard to think straight. He wasn’t used to feeling this off-balance, and it frustrated him.

But the real shift happened two hours in.

Minho leaned back in his chair, frustrated with a section they couldn’t seem to crack. “This is pointless.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, not looking up from her notes. “The project or your attitude?”

He shot her a look, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes that disarmed him. “Both,” he admitted grudgingly.

She set her pen down and tilted her head, studying him. “Why do you always act like nothing bothers you?”

The question caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got this… façade,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “Like you’ve got everything figured out. But clearly, you don’t.”

Minho’s jaw tightened. “And you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

She shrugged. “No. But you make it pretty easy to see through the act.”

The words stung more than he expected because they were true. He looked away, his fingers tapping restlessly against the edge of the table. Before he could respond, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it briefly, then stood. “I need a break. Coffee?”

Minho hesitated, then stood too. “Yeah. Sure.”

The café near campus was quiet. They sat by the glass, sipping their drinks, the tension from earlier lingering like static. Minho stirred his coffee absently, watching the steam rise in delicate swirls.

“I didn’t mean to hit a nerve,” (Y/N) said eventually, her voice soft. She stirred her own drink, her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid.

Minho stared at his cup. “I’m just used to people assuming things about me, especially because my parents, well, mostly my father, aren't, well.."

He gets quieter with every word, his expression almost showing the hate he has for himself for even mentioning it, or hatred for his father, it was hard for (Y/N) to tell.

"I don’t usually care, but…”

She knew he wasn't going to continue on with the story about his parents, but (Y/N) let him, knowing that if he wanted to, he will bring it up again when he is ready to tell her.

“But?” she prompted gently, her eyes lifting to meet his.

“But you’re not ‘people,’” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended.

She blinked, clearly not expecting that. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Well, that’s vague.”

Minho laughed softly, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“You’re not as complicated as you think, Minho,” she added, her gaze steady.

And just like that, the air shifted again.

That night, back in his dorm, Minho couldn’t shake the conversation. He sat at his desk, staring at his phone, his thumb hovering over the anonymous blog app.

Dae was scrolling on his phone, and Q was fiddling with his headphones, oblivious to Minho’s internal turmoil. Without overthinking, Minho typed:

“How do you stop caring about what someone thinks of you when they see through you so easily? Asking for a friend.”

He hit send before he could regret it, then tossed his phone aside, burying his face in his hands.

The next project meeting was different.

They worked in her dorm this time, Kitty buzzing around briefly before leaving with a sly, knowing grin. Minho tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the papers spread across the floor. For whatever reason, (Y/N), decided to dress up. Not that it mattered, in Minho's Eyes, she, for whatever reason, wasnt physically capable of ever looking bad anyway. She always looked… effortless.

“Do you ever write just for yourself?” Minho asked suddenly, surprising even himself.

She glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly. Minho wondered what that look was about, but decided not to question it for now

“Sometimes. Why?”

“Just curious.”

She hesitated, then reached for a notebook tucked under a pile of papers. “I guess writing helps me make sense of things. Even if no one reads it.”

Minho nodded, understanding more than he wanted to admit. “Yeah. I get that.”

After a pause, she added softly, “It’s scary, though. Being honest on paper.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “But it’s scarier being honest out loud.”

Their eyes met, something unspoken passing between them. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, the weight of their shared vulnerability hanging in the air.

"I..", Minho hesitated, his eyes flicking between hers and the wall behind her.

The Room was dim, light enough to see the papers, but dark enough to hide (Y/N)'s quick glance at the subtle twitch in Minho's jaw.

Which is exactly why her next movement caught him so off-guard.

She lifted her hand, placing it on his cheek and softly caressing his jawline with her thumb.

Minho was used to romantic affection and the touches that came with it, with this many people wanting to get atleast a part of you it was like a handshake at best, at least thats what he would usually think.

But this was...something else entirely.

His eyes went wide, looking at her without even attempting to hide it.

She chuckled, giving him a smile before leaning close to him, his eyes quickly switching from her eyes to her lips, only to repeat the same motion.

To his dissatisfaction, she only wrapped her arms around him tightly, rubbing small circles into his back. He hugged her back just as tight, without thinking about it at all

Minho was uncertain, but they almost felt heart shaped. Whether that was just his imagination, or reality, he didnt dare to ponder about it further.

She let go of him, resorting to only grabbing his hand and giving in three subtle squeezes.

Before either of them could break the moment by saying anything, Kitty burst through the door, dramatically complaining about Yuri, effectively shattering the tension.

But it didn’t matter.

Because the only thing he could think about, was how she didnt move her hand, not even by an inch, and to him, it felt like a promise.

#x reader #xo kitty #xo kitty dae #xo kitty minho #xo kitty minho x reader #xo kitty q #xo kitty season 2 #xo kitty yuri #minho moon

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kimi240302 · 2 years ago

Text

Craving

A/N: Before you read this story, be aware I am from Germany and can't write a bit of English. That's why I'm sending this through an app that translates it for me.

A/N2.0: In this story, the characters are all a little older.

Summary: Y/N Swan tries everything to keep her promise to stay away from Demetri Volturi. But can you stay away from the man fate bound you to?

Demetri Volturi x Female!Swan!reader

Words: 3,4k

Main Post / Twilight Masterlist / Request list / Playlist

Part 2 of Daylight Masterlist

18+ I am new to the whole smut writing so please be nice

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

Tellin' myself it's the last time Can you spare any mercy that you might find If I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try Try to follow your light, but it's night time Please, don't leave me in the end

- David Kushner

"Y/N?!”

Startled, the young girl flinched. Her gaze, which she had directed outside the entire time, turned to the whiteboard, and therefore to her scowling teacher. When Y/N noticed that the whole classroom was looking at her in a wait-and-see manner, her cheeks turned red as she shrank slightly into herself.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Porter, I wasn't listening." Shaking her head, the teacher sighed. "That's been happening to you quite a bit lately Miss Swan!" Embarrassed, since all the attention was still on her, Y/N just shook her head apologetically. "Just pay attention from now on. The things we discuss today will come up in next week's exam." Y/N sat up a little straighter, took out her pen from her bag, and pulled her notebook towards her, which made the teacher smile contentedly and continue with the lesson.

For fifteen minutes, Y/N was able to focus on what was going on in front of her, until her gaze turned back outside and her thoughts drifted back to Demetri. As she did so, her hand settled, as if by itself, on the spot where Demetri's lips had touched her skin. Her eyes closed and the memories came back. It almost seemed to her as if Demetri was here in the same room with her, very close again.

Annoyed, Y/N exhaled, opened her eyes and dropped her hand. Three weeks had passed since the meeting with Demetri in the library. Three weeks of pure torture, as Y/N no longer knew exactly where she stood, what she felt, or what exactly she wanted.

Then to top it all off, the young girl felt guilty towards her sister for indirectly breaking her promise. While it had been Demetri who had sought her out, Y/N hadn't really done anything about his closeness either, or really found it disturbing. Y/N therefore kept inventing excuses not to talk to Bella for more than half an hour to an hour, even skipping a phone call here and there. Bella, surprisingly, ignored this. She probably thought Y/N had a lot to do with school, which was true somewhere.

On the other hand, Y/N was overwhelmed with what she was feeling. She missed the feel of Demetri's body against hers. She missed his hands holding her, his lips on her skin, and his presence. Y/N even had to admit that she searched for him whenever she was out.

Yet it was almost as if Demetri Volturi no longer existed. As if he had disappeared from the scene and the only thing he had left behind was desire and words that Y/N did not understand, or rather did not want to understand.

"How long can you hide your sins from the light of day?"

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

"You should come out to party with us." Mara, a friend of Y/N, looked at her piercingly. "You've been going out for two weeks only to go to school, and even there you're absent the entire time and hardly talk."

Annoyed, Y/N released air from her lungs as she flopped down on her bed. "I just don't feel like doing anything else. Everyone has that once, it'll pass."

Mara jumped up from the chair she had been sitting on for the past hour and tried to coax Y/N into doing something other than just lying around in her room. Her fingers encircled Y/N's ankles. With a strong tug, Mara pulled Y/N off her bed.

Startled, she let out a scream as she plopped to the floor. Silence reigned for a moment until the two friends looked at each other and burst out laughing. Mara lay down on the floor next to the laughing Y/N, as she couldn't stop laughing either.

Both friends looked at the ceiling, trying to get their breathing under control as they slowly calmed down.

"What's it like?" Confused, Y/N turned her head in Mara's direction. "What exactly?" Her friend looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I have a big sister Y/N, I know what heartbreak looks like. I'm just wondering what it feels like. I've never been in love, so I can't understand someone wanting to pull away from everything and everyone because of it." Y/N turned her gaze back to the ceiling. Clearing her throat briefly, she tried to collect herself. "It's more complicated than heartbreak." The young girl took one deep breath. "You have to imagine that I never really knew who I was at home. I felt lost, which I still do from time to time." Y/N fell silent. Saddened and depressed by her own words, even if they spoke the truth.

"Why?" "Bella always cast a shadow over me. She was all my parents saw. I tried to step out of it, but every time I did, I stood in it again. So I gave it up and just lived in it. When I met Demetri, that's his name, I had the feeling of being seen for the first time. Really seen. I wasn't Bella's little sister anymore, I was just Y/N." Smiling, she closed her eyes and remembered back to the day she had first seen the vampire.

A cold hand placed itself under Y/N's chin and lifted it. This forced the young girl to look up. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of her bag as she looked into a pair of red eyes. "What's your name Chéri?" At the blond-haired man's voice, a shiver ran down her spine. "Y/N...." Her voice was soft.

With a soft smile, Demetri released her chin and brushed a tangled strand of hair behind her ear. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."

"What's it like to be around him?" "It feels like coming home. When he's around me, it's like I can finally take a breath." Y/N gave a soft laugh. Confused, Mara looked at her, "What is it?" "At the risk of sounding ridiculous, when Demetri touches me it's like he reminds me that I'm alive and not just existing. His touches almost burn, and they continue to do so long after he's gone."

Mara was silent again for a moment. "That doesn't sound ridiculous. On the contrary it sounds beautiful, like a connection anyone would want to have. But then why are you sad?" "My family is against it." Mara exhaled in annoyance. "You mean your sister is against it." "And a few other people I care about, or at least used to." Y/N's expression changed to a sad one. "So what's the plan? To forget him." The young girl just nods.

Mara, sighing, nudged her friend in the ribs with her elbow, making Y/N wince.

"Now let's be honest, let's go to the club today. The others are coming too. The first step towards oblivion." Y/N rubbed the spot where Mara's elbow had hit her. "If I come with you, will you promise not to be violent towards me anymore?"

Playfully thoughtful, Mara put a hand to her chin and considered for a few seconds.

"If I have to..." Dramatically, the hand moved from her chin to her chest. "I promise to behave towards you!"

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed the pillow, which had fallen on the floor with her earlier, and threw it in Mara's face.

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"Look who decided to join us for the night!" Mara spread her arms and showed her group of friends Y/N, immediately they all started cheering. "The lost child has returned!" Y/N rolled her eyes and plopped down next to Mick on the bench in the club. "I only skipped one club visit!" She had to raise her voice to fight the music. "One too many!" called Mick back, pressing his fresh beer into her hand. He put his arm on her shoulders and lifted the other beer to toast with the others.

As the evening went on, more and more alcohol flowed. Which helped Y/N lose any thought of Demetri and her confusing feelings for him.

With her eyes closed, Y/N moved to the tune of the music. The darkness that surrounded her, broken only by green and red lights every few seconds, made her feel safe and out of reach. Y/N felt free for the first time. No vampire drama could find her here. It was just her and her friends here.

The bodies around her, the young girl was already not even aware of, as well as the smell of sweat and alcohol. Smiling, she raised her arms in the air.

Y/N's peace was quickly shattered. Startled, she flinched when two hands came to her hips. Her arms dropped down so she could put her hands over the stranger's and push them away. But as her skin touched the stranger's and she felt the familiar cold, the young girl literally sank into the body behind her. An unfamiliar feeling of relief spread through her.

"Demetri..."

His name was no more than a whisper, but Y/N knew he had heard her. After all, he was a vampire. The grip on her hips strengthened as if to assure her that it was really him, that he was really behind her and was not just an illusion.

"What do you think you're doing here Trésor?" Goosebumps formed on Y/N's skin. Tightening her grip on his hands, she sought the hold to steady herself. "Trying to forget." She murmured, not stopping to move, forcing Demetri to follow her lead.

The vampire snorted in amusement. His left hand settled on Y/N's stomach, where he applied enough pressure to keep Y/N's back against his chest. Demetri also released his right hand from her hip and let his fingertips travel upward just a few millimeters over the filmy fabric of Y/N's black blouse. When his fingers stopped at the exposed cleavage that started just below her breasts, Y/N had to gasp. Demetri's lips hovered just inches from her ear. "What are you trying to forget?"

Carefully almost, as if the vampire was afraid his mate would shatter like glass, he touched the exposed skin, between her breasts. Slowly his fingers slid up. Y/N bit her lip gently. She didn't want Demetri to know how much influence he had on her. However, the young girl quickly lost her focus as Demetri's fingers slid over her collarbone. Out of instinct, she grabbed Demetri's right arm, causing him to pause in his movement.

"I wanted to forget you." Her words sounded breathless and desperate. Demetri laughed, "And you really thought for a second that I would let this happen?" The vampire lowered his head. As he did so, he let his lips run over Y/N's cheek and chin. Arriving at her neck, he lowered his lips to her pulse point without further thought. Without hurting her he sucked his mouth there to make a mark on her. The young girl's eyes widened before she closed them. Her body automatically pressed even closer to his as Y/N's grip tightened on Demetri's arm.

"Good luck forgetting now." Demetri had moved away from her neck and taken his arms from her. Confused and slightly backward staggering, Y/N opened her eyes and at the lack of presence behind her, turned around. Only to find that Demetri had disappeared and left her behind once again.

"He can't be serious now!"

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The young Swan girl felt as if a bucket of water had been poured over her head. Any signs of being drunk had disappeared and been replaced by a feeling of emptiness.

Slamming her apartment door behind her, Y/N shook her shoes off her feet. She had told her friends a half-hearted excuse, gotten out of the club into the next best cab, and headed home.

Tired, Y/N leaned against her front door. Her gaze slid around her dark apartment. Sighing, her head lightly banged on the door behind her. Tears came to her eyes as she realized how lonely she actually felt. Y/N didn't miss Forks, her sister, her father, or her friends, though. She was missing Demetri. Which made no sense from her point of view, since they were both never in the same place for more than half an hour.

Shaking her head, Y/N pushed herself away from her door, banished her way through the still dark apartment to the bathroom, and slowly began to undress in the process. She wanted nothing more than to wash the evening off her skin. The alcohol, her sweat, and the feeling of what Demetri had left on her skin. As she walked past her bedroom window, Y/N opened it to let the evening air in and since she lived on the fifth floor she didn't worry about anyone getting into her apartment.

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With a towel tied around her body, Y/N stood stunned in front of her bathroom mirror.

""This bloody..."" Twisting her neck a bit to the side, she looked at the red mark on her neck. Gasping, she propped her hands on the sink. "A hickey? Seriously!"

Shaking her head in front of her, she tugged on her towel again and left the bathroom to get dressed in her bedroom. Just as she was about to open her closet door to look for her sleeping clothes, a voice familiar to her was heard.

"Mon amour you should not leave your window open like that. Someone might come in here unannounced."

With a cry, the young girl turned to her bed. Stunned, Y/N looked at the vampire. Demetri had made himself comfortable on her bed. His hands were clasped behind the back of his head as he watched her with a satisfied grin.

"I live on the fifth floor! No one can get in there just like that. Except crazy vampires who don't know what privacy is!"

Angrily, she braced her hands on her hips. Demetri raised an eyebrow. "I thought the window was an invitation for me. After all, we both know that the height of your apartment is nothing that can stop me." Several times Y/N blinked as she processed Demetri's words.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Y/N, enraged, grabbed the nearest object that fell into her fingers and threw it at Demetri. The latter jumped up from the bed to avoid the book Y/N threw at him.

"Mon amour you know that can't hurt me, right?" With an annoyed snort, Y/N grabbed her other textbook and aimed it at Demetri again. "I don't care!" Demetri ducked his head, repositioned himself properly, and looked after the book that had knocked a vase onto the floor.

"Think about your decor Y/N." Demetri's grin seemed to make the young girl even angrier. By the third time she turned to grab something and throw it at the vampire, Demetri had had enough. He closed the distance between them and stood directly in front of her.

Y/N, who was just turning back to face him, startled, dropped the book from her hand, and took an avoiding step backward. The skin on her back touched the cold wood, of her closet. This reminded her that she was still standing in front of Demetri in only a towel. Y/N's hands grasped the top hem of the towel and pulled it closer to her skin.

"Why are you here Demetri?" Y/N uttered her words only softly, with an uncertain tone. Demetri could even hear an anxious undertone. He stepped over the inches of distance that still existed between the two. The vampire raised his hand to Y/N's cheek, which made her close her eyes. The trembling of her body became more obvious and Demetri had to admit to himself that this reaction of his mate hurt him.

"Open your eyes Y/N." Demetri rested his forehead against Y/N's as he whispered his next words. "I beg you, don't be afraid of me." The young girl's eyes flew open. She had to swallow because of the closeness of their faces and the intensity of Demetri's gaze.

"Then give me a reason not to be afraid."

Demetri's free hand rested against Y/N's other cheek as he released his forehead from hers. Without hesitating any further, he lowered his lips to those of his mate. Instantly Y/N tensed and Demetri feared that he had gone too far. But Y/N leaned more toward him. Her chest pressed against his to keep her towel where it was as she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss as passionately as Demetri had.

The vampire's hands dropped down to Y/N's hips.

When they both broke away from each other, Demetri stopped with his lips just inches from hers. Y/N opened her eyes, letting her right arm slide down Demetri's chest. The vampire inhaled, even though he didn't have to, not breaking eye contact with Y/N for a second. "I would never hurt you Y/N. I'm not the monster the Cullens want me to be."

Y/N placed her right hand on Demetri's cheek. Her fingertips gently ran over his skin. With a smile, Y/N watched as Demetri's eyes closed as he leaned into her touch. She realized that he felt the same in her presence as she did in his, comfort.

Y/N leaned closer to Demetri with her face getting closer and closer to him. Just as the young girl was about to close her eyes, a ringing interrupted her. Startled, Y/N flinched and separated herself from Demetri. The latter opened his eyes annoyed when Y/N took her hands from him, put them back to the towel and detached herself from his body. Demetri let go of her, watching as Y/N went to her cell phone, picked it up and read the name. "Bella..."

Shaking his head, he walked back toward her. "Don't answer it." Uncertain, his mate looked at him as her fingers tightened around her phone. Demetri had enough of Bella, enough of the promise of what she had taken from his mate, and enough of waiting. He grabbed Y/N`s face between his hands again, pulling her body towards him and letting his lips meet hers. Startled by her mate's rudeness, she dropped the phone on the floor between them. Her fingers buried themselves in the thick material of Demetri's top, at his waist.

"Tonight you're all mine, tonight it's just the two of us!"

Demetri bent Y/N's head slightly to the side with his right hand. Immediately he lowered his lips to the skin on her neck, causing his mate to groan. Meanwhile, his hands wandered over her shoulders to the top saun of the towel, where he untied the knot Y/N had made in it to make sure the fabric stayed where it was.

Y/N shuddered as she felt the fabric of the towel loosen around her body. With trembling fingers she pushed herself away from Demetri. Confused, he looked at her and wanted to protest, but fell silent when Y/N's fingers went to the first button of his shirt and opened it. They both looked into each other's eyes while she repeated this with the other buttons. Carefully, Y/N ran the exposed skin back up as she undid the last button. As she did so, she could swear Demetri gasped several times. Arriving at his shoulders, she slipped the shirt off his body. She let her fingers wander further up his neck and pulled him down to her. This time it was Y/N who deepened the kiss directly as Demetri's hands worked their way down to her thighs. He lifted her up without breaking the kiss and placed her on the bed behind them.

The vampire and his mate created their own little world that night under the protection of her darkness. A world where Bella and the Cullens were forgotten. Where Y/N's fears for the future had no place. Where the ringing of Y/N's cell phone was ignored and where she belonged completely to Demetri.

A world that shattered with the first rays of daylight. When Y/N opened her eyes, she was aware not only of the burning sensation left by Demetri's touch, but also of the tightness in her lungs. She had betrayed her sister.

Y/N turned in bed to face her window. The side of the bed on which Demetri had been lying was cold, but not empty. A note lay on the pillow. Confused, the young girl straightened up, grabbed it and read it.

"Daylight exposes your sins more and more, so why still try to hide them in the darkness?"

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I will write a Part 3

@twilightlover2007 @ssnapsaurus @svtbpbts

@xxx-wounded-angel-xxx @ms-sasa

#demetri volturi #twilight x reader #demetri volturi imagine #demetri volturi x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagine #twilight x y/n #the volturi #volturi x reader #volturi guard

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sluts4matt · 1 year ago

Text

SECRET (part two)

pairing: nate doe x sls!erika sturniolo

summary: she had hidden her feelings away for years, but with growing up and toxic relationships it was all starting to resurface.

warnings: making out(sorta), use of weed and alcohol, slight swearing

word count: 1388

authors note: it’s a slow build up y’all but i swear it’ll be good 🙈 read part one here

the bell rang signaling the end of class, everyone got up from their seats ready to leave the library.

"how long do we have to work on this?" nate asked, looking down at me slightly as he stood from the chair. "a week or two i think," i respond, shrugging my shoulders standing up to be eye level with him.

"can i come over tonight and we can start?" he asked, his blue eyes staring into mine. "of course," i responded, and his lips tugged into a grin.

"bye eri," he smiled, his hand resting on my shoulder before he walked away. the nickname was new, but still, pink flew to my cheeks.

"bye bye," i mumble, watching him walk towards the guys locker rooms. i met nick at his locker, "is mom here yet?" i ask, watching him look down at his phone.

"she texted saying five minutes ten minutes ago, so not yet," he stated, closing his locker. mom was picking us up since matt and chris had lacrosse practice today.

"nate's coming over tonight, by the way" i say, giving him a headsup as we walked towards the double doors that led outside. "why?" he asks, though he didn't mind since nate was his best friend.

"class project," i responded, and he nodded.

mom picked us up a minute or two later, pulling up to the curb. i sat in the front while nick sat in the back.

"how was school?" she asked, looking at us before looking back forward and pulling out of the school.

"fine," the two of us answered, and we both went silent. she smiled, continuing the drive.

as soon as we got home, the two of us were in our own worlds, not bothering to pay attention to anyone. i was sat on my bed, blackbear playing softly while i worked on homework for what seemed like forever.

there was a knock at my door, and i looked up. "come in," i stated, watching the door open and chris peak his head in.

"hey," he smiled, walking into the room, nate trailing behind him. "how was practice?" i ask, turning back to the math homework currently sprawled out on my desk.

"it was good," he smiled, his eyes drifting over to the tv that sat in the corner of my room, my spotify app currently displayed on it. "exhausting though," chris added.

"i bet," i replied, nodding my head. "how was school?" he asked, and i turned to look at him. "boring," i replied, and a laugh escaped his lips. "nates spending the night by the way," chris stated, making my head shoot up.

it wasn't like it wasn't normal for him too, it was just normally it was talked about with me too, to make sure it was okay. "that's fine, we have a project to work on anyways." i smile.

nate nods his head, humming in agreement. the two leave after that, closing the door behind them. i let out a sigh, the butterflies erupting once again.

an hour later nate was back in my bedroom, the two of us working on the project finishing the introduction in a little under an hour. we were sitting on the floor, papers scattered around. nate leaned against my bed, while i sat on my knees opposite of him.

"im bored," nate whined, dropping the pen he was holding onto the floor. "poor baby," i pout, a joking tone in my voice.

"do you have any alcohol?" he asked, his voice teasing. my eyes widened slightly, faking hurt as i put my hand over my heart. "what do i look like to you, an alcoholic?" i state, though i'm already standing.

he laughs, shrugging his shoulders. "sometimes," he says, watching me manuver around my bed, sliding it off the box spring slightly to reveal my stash.

i had cut a hole big enough to hide my things, knowing it was a decent hiding spot for my alcohol and weed. the raspberry smirnoff laid neatly on its back, while a black box with hello kitty and anime stickers covering it held my weed.

"alcohol or weed?" i ask, turning around. "both," he stated, and i laughed, grabbing the two bending over to set them on the floor before locking my door.

"you're a bad influence," nate teased, a smile gracing his face as he sat up. "you asked for it," i shrug, opening the bottle. i tilted my head back, drinking from it before setting it down with a grimace.

"my turn," nate mumbled, picking up the bottle and drinking it, he to made a face causing me to giggle. i opened the box, grabbing a pre-roll and a blue lighter.

i put the joint to my lips, lighting the end before inhaling the smoke. i passed him the joint, standing back up. the way his eyes followed me made me feel like folding but i held it together walking over to my window to crack it.

the smoke was filling the room quickly, the two of us being light smokers. we were already feeling it, our vision hazy and our minds a little foggy. the music playing from the tv was loud, not to loud though, the bass making the room vibrate lightly. or maybe it was the mixture of alcohol and weed.

we were laughing, the room filled with the smell of smoke and the strong scent of alcohol.

"your hair is so fucking soft," nate said, running his fingers through my hair. "it's the product i use," i giggle, taking another sip of the raspberry alcohol.

nate was sitting on the ground, his back pressed up against my bed frame while i was sitting in between his legs. i was facing him, my hands playing with the fabric of his sweater.

"what is this? cashmere?" i tease, tugging on the black fabric. "polyester i think," he said, slightly joking. i giggled, the room spinning a bit. his blue eyes stared into mine, his fingers brushing through my hair. i couldn't stop staring at his lips, wanting to kiss him.

"can i tell you a secret?" nate asked, his fingers now moving from my hair to rest on my cheek. "yeah," i responded, my eyes locked on his. "i want to kiss you so bad right now," nate mumbled, his face close to mine. "so do it," i whisper, my gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips.

i leaned in, pressing my lips against his softly, his hand resting on my jaw and tilting his head slightly. the kiss was slow, the two of us savoring it. nates hand drifted to the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

"open the door erika," i heard my moms voice, causing us to pull apart. she didn't sound angry but she definitely didn't sound pleased which caused my eyes to widen. we had been caught. "fuck, fuck, fuck," i mumble, getting up, "one minute," i call out, looking at nate who had gotten up from the floor.

he was smiling, his hair a mess and his lips slightly red. i walked over to the window, sliding it closed before locking it. i opened the closet, quickly grabbing the contents on my floor and stashing them there for the time being.

"fuck, get in my bed and lay down," i whispered, pushing nate over to the bed, causing him to giggle.

i opened the door, looking at my mom who stood in the doorway with a frown on her face. "mom," i smiled, the alcohol and weed having a stronger effect on me then i thought.

"it smells like pot in here," she immediately stated, crossing her arms. one thing about my mom was she was very laid back, it took quite a bit to actually upset her.

therefore seeing the frown, the displeased look in her eyes, and her arms crossed, i knew i had messed up. "nathan, you need to either go home or go hang out with the boys, that's why you're here." she said, her tone firm.

"im sorry," nate apologized, looking down at his feet. "i'm glad, i'm gonna go call your mom." she sighed, turning away. nate grabbed his things, mumbling a 'bye' before joining chris in his room, the affects of the alcohol and weed still having an effect, just not as much now.

i decided it would be best if i went to sleep, so that's precisely what i did. or what i tried to do. my mind was plagued with nate and the way his lips felt against mine. how his fingers brushed through my hair, the way his eyes looked into mine.

i didn't sleep until 2am, the thoughts of him running through my mind, keeping me awake.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chris @l5ka

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6rookie-writer0110 · 1 year ago

Text

Trouble in Paradise slowed down

Anika Kayoko x Male Reader

Request: could you do a male deadpool reader protecting Anika

Anika finished her class and you watched her come out of the classroom. You start to follow her but you are trying not to get too close to her. But Anika pretends to take out her cell phone and you look away. But she noticed you following her for days but hasn't said anything to you. She walked towards the library and pretended to go inside. You were about to go inside but she grabbed you by your shirt and slammed against the wall.

“Y/n, why are you always following me around?” Anika asked.

She lets go of your shirt and you have one class with her.

“Oh, just enjoying the fresh air” You smiled.

“We are in school the only fresh air here is from the vent on the third floor,” Anika said.

“I really enjoy your company,” You said.

“You do know that I'm gay, right,” Anika said.

“Sure do, girl power” You winked.

“You are weird, Y/n I like weird,” Anika said.

“That’s me” You smiled.

“My girlfriend's friend would love you, Tara”

“Oh, Tara Carpenter, yah high, nice smile, good butt, yeah never heard of her,” You said.

“You are already hitting that?” Anika asked.

“Yep, please don't tell Sam,” You said.

“I won't tell Sam,” Anika said.

You and Anika went to get lunch together. You tell her how you met Tara but Tara doesn't know that you are in love with her.

——-

You live alone and you are cleaning your gun while singing to the Spice Girls.

“Colours of the world Spice up your life Every boy and every girl. Spice up your life, People of the world. Spice up your life Aah… I should be a singer” You said.

You kept singing along to the song. Your phone sends you an alert text and you start to read it. You get Anika’s location and you start to get ready, you put on your mask. After grabbing your gun, you get an Uber and you keep looking at the tracking app.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Anika is on campus and Ghostface starts to chase her. She managed to lose him and she went to the storage room to hide. She texted you that she is in the storage room hiding. You kicked the door open

“What in the earth, wind, and fire is going on here?!” You yelled.

Ghostface enters the room

“Don’t worry your girlfriend will meet you soon,” Ghostface said.

You aimed your gun at Ghostface.

“Hey fucker, don't fucking touch my fucking best friend!” You yelled.

“Y/n?” Anika

“Yep,” You said.

“You’re Deadpool?” Anika asked.

“At your service,” You said.

“Ghostface is getting away,” Anika said.

“Nope,” You said.

You pulled the trigger again, the bullet went straight through the back of his head…

“Now let's look at who this fucker is under the mask,” You said.

You take off the mask of Ghostface.

“Looks like a fucking pussy” You said.

“That’s Ethan,” Anika said.

“The same Ethan that has tried to hook up with Tara?” You said.

“Yeah,” Anika said.

You pulled the trigger many times and that made Anika jump.

“I think he is dead” Anika said.

“Wooops finger slipped,” You said.

“Ten times?” Anika asked.

“It happens,” You said.

“Y/n,” Anika said.

“Yeah?” You said.

“Thank you for saving me,” Anika said.

“Of course bestie, I would have burned the entire town down to the ground to find the killer if you had died,” You said.

“Good thing it didn't come to that” Anika said.

“Yep, now let's go get food I'm starving,” You said.

“My treat” Anika said.

“Fuck yes, saving people is the best, especially free food afterward” You smiled.

“I’m digging the red suit,” Anika said.

“It’s sooo cool, right!?” You cheerfully said.

“It is cool” Anika smiled.

You hug her too tight and she starts to laugh.

You and Anika went to a Spanish restaurant. You ordered a lot of food and you still have on the suit. When the food arrived, you and Anika started to eat but she stopped. She is speechless at how you are eating your food. You are taking huge bites and your suit starts to get dirty.

“Wow, you are really hungry,” Anika said

“Yeah, I'm always hungry. These taste so good!” You smiled

You kept eating more and she started to eat again. You shared your tacos with her and she shared her burrito with you. After a while of eating, you feel full that you want to take a nap. Later, You and Anika took food home but you didn't want to leave her side.

You didn't go home and you followed her inside the apartment.

“Y/n, you don't have to stay with me,” Anika said.

“Oh, I'm not leaving your side,” You said.

“But I texted Mindy and the others, they are coming,” Anika said.

“So?” You said.

“You don't have pajamas,” Anika said.

“Yes, I do,” You said.

“What?” Anika asked.

You go to the bathroom to change. You leave your boxers and tank top on but you put on her bathrobe. Mindy, Sam, and Tara arrived, and they were in shock at what you had on.

#Anika Kayoko imagine #anika kayoko x reader #x male reader #male!reader #male reader #scream 6 imagines #scream 6 imagine

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melobin · 10 months ago

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crossed lines 𐙚 anton smau - 2

✧ female reader x anton | sohee's girlfriend x anton

✧ synopsis. on the first day of a new academic year, anton walks into his lecture hall late, only see the last empty seat is beside you. he thought nothing out of the ordinary of sitting beside you, in fact the two of you even made it a regular thing. anton also thought nothing of inviting you to private study sessions with him alone in the library during the late hours of the night, he never imagined that such a mundane thing would turn him into a horrible best friend.

warnings. half written and half smau, written.

wc. 668

crossed lines masterlist

the lecture room was full, a lot fuller than you hoped it had been considering you were relatively early. there were only a few open seats left, it took you longer than you had hoped before you had spotted anton. he was sat towards the bottom of the room, closer to where the lecturers desk was. he sat toward the end of the row that was closest to the door, the seat he saved for you was beside him on the inside. just from that alone you could tell he was the type to make a run for it the moment the lecture let you go, luckily you were too.

you sighed before you walked over to anton, he stood up with a small smile to let you into the row. he avoided your eyes as you walked past him, looking at the floor until you were sat down. the air between the two of you was awkward, you were sure it was the first time the two of you had even been together without at least sohee around to bring up the atmosphere and break the ice, neither of you had any idea of what to say to the other. both opting to share small smiles and quiet apologises when your arms bumped together.

half way through the two hour lecture, you began to bore and sitting next to someone who barely spoke two words to you didn’t help. you knew you had to talk first, you had to break the ice before the two of you ended up falling asleep due to the dull nature of your introductory lecture.

“anton?” your voice was low, you couldn’t tell if the boy didn’t hear you or if he was just ignoring you “anton?” your whisper came out a little louder, the boy still didn’t turn his head. “anton??” with a nudge of your elbow, you caught his attention as well as a few other people around you. you sent them an awkward smile and a small nod of your head as an apology.

“yeah?”

“what are you doing?”

“listening to the lecture, like you should be” you pulled a face as your eyes drifted down to the candy crush game that was open on his ipad.

“listening to what? how to match shapes and colours?”

“it’s more complicated than you think, i’ve gotten sohee-hyung through countless levels he’s been stuck on”

“sorry i didn’t realise i was talking to the candy crust connoisseur” anton laughed a little louder than he meant to, almost hiding himself when someone in front of him turned around to look at what the noise was “are you always so awkward?”

“what?”

“what?” you shrugged your shoulders and spoke back to him, unsure if he would be able to keep you entertained “anton i’m sorry i can’t sit here in silence for two hours listening to some old man talk about the history of swimming, i already know this” anton sighed, his body shifting slightly so he was facing towards you.

“what do you want?”

“you should download those silly two player table game apps on your ipad so we can play during class”

“when we’re meant to be paying attention?”

“you were playing a colour and shape matching game anton”

“i’ll look for them later” his response sparked an idea in you, a question you were suddenly curious to know the answer for.

“later? aren’t you going to seok’s party?” anton laughed again at your question, amusement in his eyes.

“when have you ever seen me go to a party” you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“you should go tonight, surprise all your friends and show them you can let loose a little”

“i can let loose”

“yeah in the pool” anton sighed again, listening to your words and nodding.

“what if i go for like ten minutes” you shrugged your shoulders.

“doesn’t matter to me as long as you show up, but i better see you at the others too”

“there’s others??”

crossed lines tag list

priv / next

tag list. @totheseok @onlyhyunjin @dearmyouth @billiondollarworth @cherrytaesan @severefireangelprune @wonbinkisser @antoncore @rosesfortaro @hiraarri @3xv5s @revehosh @hyucklberryc @lovetaroandtaemin @hakkkuu @snoopyana @mamuljji @https-yeonjun @s3l3n0phil3 @nabilahrab @allyloops @kkumistars s @fairyracha @ramyeonzprincess @chichiuu @professsionalsimp @noluvagn @bearbeom @httpuji @eunsskies @s9nwoo @gyehyeonist @en-flirt @toriallove @sugaringgcaramel @endtostartbreathin n @gacktsa @ywnzn @fairiejjk @addictedtohobi @syzavxy @jjk0801 @romehan @hyuckies18 @saranghoeforanton @g0niki @enhacolor @acid-starzz @soobiverse @nujessk @nctjunie @kazscara @haechology

#✧ melody posts #anton smau #riize smut #riize anton smau #anton fake texts #riize anton fake texts

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ovaryacted · 5 months ago

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Currently in bed hiding from the world as I mourn the United States and the future that was allegedly promised to me. Now the work begins and we all have to prepare for the worst and focus on being well informed and proactive members of our communities.

ICE mass deportation raids will begin in large cities across the country starting tomorrow, and who knows what else this man will start in 24 hours of being in office with his executive orders. Always remember, you will have more in common with an undocumented migrant than you do with a billionaire. You will have more in common with a homeless person than you do with a billionaire. You will have more in common with a sex worker than you do with a billionaire. You will never get close to becoming a billionaire, because look at how much of your humanity you have to waste just to achieve that status.

Stay active in your communities, look out for one another, become familiar with your public library system, learn to organize offline, stop using IG/Facebook/Tiktok regularly as they’re all surveillance apps now, have hobbies that are not reliant on being online, listen to sex workers and indigenous people, become as educated as possible whether that be pursuing education or not, READ MORE BOOKS!, get a local state and country map, get access to reliable information from countries outside of the U.S. (don’t trust mass media; and just because you are educated doesn’t mean you are immune to propaganda), learn how to not be traceable online, use a VPN, learn how to use a gun if necessary, get physically fit, MASK UP!, and finally the police and the military are NOT your friends. Trust nobody that works for the state.

I don’t think this madness is going to stop at 4 years because tyrants/dictators are unpredictable and that’s what makes this upcoming administration so scary. Stop thinking about the next election when there’s a big change we won’t get another one in the near future. We are on our own now.

#to say I’m scared is an understatement #but this is life now #unless I miraculously try to leave the country then we’ll see what happens then #actually insane this is what we’re doing now #dark times truly #fuck trump #and fuck the United States government

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backtothefanfiction · 2 years ago

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A Christmas Blessing: The Gift of Moving On | frat!Peter Imagine

Summary: You and your boyfriend had a messy breakup at Halloween. Almost two months later you think you’re ready to move on, even if he’s still holding on.

Warnings: jealousy, messy break up, sweet Peter, fluff

Word Count: 1K+ (wrote in app again so not completely sure)

A/N; it’s Christmas party season and I was scrolling through fics when this idea came to me so here we go.

He couldn’t help but watch you. It had always been the way. Ever since his frat brother had brought you back to the house that first time. Peter was mesmerised. By your hair, your eyes, the way you dressed. The way you had 5 different laughs. The way you always found time to say hi to him when you came over to the house. If you came over before Matt had gotten back from the library or a lecture or wherever the heck he was, you’d grab a drink for the two of you and just sit with him and talk. It was always just so easy for you both to talk.

It had only gotten worse after you and Matt broke up at Halloween. You’d caught him hiding out in one of the upstairs rooms of a party over at the Theta Beta Phi house, making out with some girl in a slutty super girl costume. The argument the two of you had had, instantly killed the party. Peter had gotten so angry with Matt when he’d found out what he’d done. If the party hadn’t been over when you walked out, it definitely was after he punched Matt in the face on the front lawn.

He couldn’t help but watch you now. Your gaze was focused on something in the adjacent room. Your cup was held frozen in mid air near your chin with one hand, while your other arm wrapped protectively across your chest. You were stood alone, your back to a messy stack of shelves. Where once you looked so comfortable at parties surrounded by friends, now you just looked like you’d rather be elsewhere. And that made Peter sad.

“What are you staring at?” He asked as he approached, but as soon as he was stood in the right angle to follow your gaze, he knew exactly what you were looking at.

Matt stood in the hallway with the girl from the Halloween party. However instead of her slutty super girl outfit, she wore a slutty Santa costume. She was giggling at every word he said. His finger reached out to play with her hair. He took one look in the direction of Peter and you, before he plucked the girls hat off of her head and placed it on top of his own, his body shuffling closer to her.

“It’s like watching a car crash.” You say to Peter. “She doesn’t even realise he isn’t actually into her. He’s just trying to make me jealous.”

“How come?”

“Because I wouldn’t take him back.” You said, finally looking away from them as you took a sip of your drink.

“Good. I’m glad.” Peter said, only slightly fumbling over his words. “I mean, he was a dick and you are way too good for him.”

“Are you allowed to say that?” You question as you adorably tilt your head at him. “Isn’t he your fraternity brother. Isn’t that part of the brotherhood and the pact, to always have each other’s backs.”

“Yeah but I think the rules my Aunt and Uncle taught me about not being a dick to women kind of overrule any fraternity pacts or rules.”

“Well,” you say, lifting your cup towards him for him to cheers with his own, “I guess that must make you a rare breed of man, Peter Parker.”

Your words make him blush as he looks down into his cup as you take a sip from your own.

You both stand with each other in awkward silence for a moment until another fake giggle draws your attention back into the hallway where Matt is now making out with the skinny blonde in the red and white mini skirt. His hand groping at her ass for everyone to see. Peter’s head turns back to looking at you as the expression on your face turns sour.

“He looks like he’s trying to swallow her face.” You comment. “Please tell me we never looked like that.” Peter’s brow furrows, so you elaborate. “When we were drunk making out at parties. Please tell me we didn’t look like that.”

“You didn’t look like that.” He said as you both watched Matt and the girl break apart only long enough for her to giggle, take his hand and starting leading him upstairs.

“I’m sorry.” Peter says.

His statement throws you. It takes you a moment to work out why. It’s because you’re relaxed. For the first time in weeks, your chest feels steady and not jittery. Your mind is calm and not racing a hundred miles a second with a thousand different hypothetical’s. You don’t feel intimidated by Matt or the girl. You feel sorry for them. You think on the way he had come grovelling to you just days ago, begging for your forgiveness only to now be shoving his tongue down another girls throat.

“Don’t be sorry.” You turn and say to him. “She can have him.” And it’s then you really look at Peter. He’s handsome, despite the bleached blonde hair he currently had because of some dare. He’s not like those other frat boys. He has a moral code. He’s always been friendly to you and if rumours are true, he stuck up for you after you had left the Halloween party.

“So um, are you headed home for the Christmas-“

“Would you like to go out with me?” You suddenly asked him, catching him off guard.

“Um uh, like right now or?”

“Or later. Tomorrow? Friday night? Whenever.”

“Uh um, uh,” he struggles with his words, his wildest dreams coming true like it’s some Christmas miracle. “Yes. Yes!” He finally gets out. There’s a pause between you both before he says, “Are you sure? I mean, it’s not too soon or-“

“No. I’m sure.” You smile at him and he feels like the cow that just jumped over the moon. “It’s just,” you say, bashfully looking down into your cup, “I just realised that I don’t think I was ever really supposed to be with Matt, you know.”

The way you look at Peter says so much. It’s always been easy for you two to talk to each other and it seems that also goes for silent conversations as you slowly inch closer to one another.

Before he knows it, he’s reaching a hand up to your face, guiding you closer to his own. You don’t protest as he kisses you, instead breathing a deep sigh of relief. Yeah, you thought to yourself, she can have your shitty ex boyfriend, you have something better right here.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker x reader #frat!peter x reader #frat!peter #fluff #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x you #andrew!peter x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #spider-man #tasm!peter parker #andrew peter parker #andrew peter imagine

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thesims4blogger · 9 months ago

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The Sims 4: New Game Patch (September 18th, 2024)

Your game should now read: PC: 1.109.185.1030 / Mac: 1.109.185.1230 / Console: 1.99.

Sul Sul Simmers!

This patch is a big one and brings many new updates and fixes into the game that span across different packs, including improvements to apartment walls, ceiling lighting, and a whole host of fixes for our recently released expansion pack, Lovestruck. These, along with so many more across both Base Game and Packs, can be found below.

Thank you for your continued reporting efforts at AnswersHQ. It really helps to let us know the issues you care most about. We hope these fixes keep improving your game and allow you to keep having more fun! More to come.

There’s a colorful update to Build/Buy items! 650 color variants have been added and there are new items such as archways, doors, and even ground covers to spruce up your terrain. Check out the vibrant colors and new items in the video. For more details, scroll to the end of the patch notes to see a list of all the Build/Buy items. We can’t wait to see how you mix and match!

youtube

Performance

Reducing Memory Usage:

Frequent Memory Updates – Increased the frequency of memory usage data updates to prevent out-of-memory crashes.

Improving Simulation Performance:

Streamlining Data Storage – We restructured how we store game data to reduce the overhead of using Python objects, making the game run faster and use less memory.

Efficient Buff Generation – Reworked how temporary data is generated and stored to fix previous issues and optimize memory usage.

Reducing Load Times:

Optimizing Render Target Allocation – Stopped unnecessary allocation of large color targets during certain rendering processes, now saving valuable memory especially in high-resolution settings.

DirectX 11 (DX11) Updates

We’re pleased to announce improvements to the DirectX 11 executable for PC users. While these updates are focused on Windows PC’s, Xbox Simmers will also see benefits from these changes as the Xbox runs a console-based variant of DirectX 11. Here’s what to expect:

NVIDIA and AMD

NVIDIA and AMD Graphics Cards – Players using NVIDIA and AMD GPUs will now automatically default to the DX11 executable. Players on other GPUs like Intel, will continue to enjoy The Sims 4 on DX9 until a later update.

DirectX 11 Enhancements – Faster Graphics Processing – Implemented changes to how graphics data is updated, reducing delays between the CPU and GPU for smoother gameplay.

Performance Boost with Constant Buffers (cbuffers) – This enhances performance by reducing overhead and managing memory more efficiently. Users with mid to high-end GPUs should notice improved performance!

New DirectX 9 Option in Graphics Setting – By default, Simmers on NVIDIA and AMD GPUs will launch The Sims 4 using DX11. If you prefer, you can switch to DX9 via Game Options > Graphics and enable the DirectX 9 toggle before re-launching The Sims 4 to play using DirectX 9.

Intel

Ongoing Intel Development – We are continuing development on bringing DirectX 11 to Intel GPU based PC��s but it needs a little longer before we can bring it to Simmers as the default option. For now Intel based Simmers will continue to use DirectX 9 when running The Sims 4.

DirectX 11 Opt-In – DirectX 11 is available for those Simmers who want to try it, including those using an Intel GPU, you may experience visual issues with mods. We recommend disabling all mods while using the -dx11 command line argument.

For detailed information about DirectX 11 and instructions on how to enter launch arguments for both the EA App and Steam, please visit here. If you encounter any issues with DirectX, you can find assistance here.

The Gallery

Pack filters now properly work for Home Chef Hustle in The Gallery and library. No more hiding.

Base Game

[AHQ] Outdoor lighting will no longer affect inside the room through ceilings. Let there be (proper) light.

[AHQ and AHQ] When attempting to save, “Error Code: 0“ no longer occurs related to Gigs or Neighborhood Stories.

[AHQ] Addressed an additional issue where the game would fail to load and display Error Code 123 when traveling between lots.

[AHQ] Clay and Future Cubes will no longer get left on lots during events. Pick up your trash and leave nothing behind.

[AHQ] Frogs, mice and fishes in tanks are now visible when placed in laptop mode. Welcome back, friends!

[AHQ] Sims will put their tablets and homework back into their inventory instead of placing them in the world as long as they are standing or sitting. Again, stop littering, Sims!

[AHQ] The call is not coming from inside the house–you'll stop getting invitational phone calls from your own Household Members.

[AHQ] “Complete a Daily Work Task” Want now completes properly after finishing a daily work task. Work work work.

[AHQ] Children now have the option to quit their “After School Activity“. Although quitters never prosper.

[AHQ] Thought bubbles of Sims will no longer appear through walls and floors. Keep your thoughts to yourself.

[AHQ] Family fortune - “Heal Negative Sentiments” task will now properly complete.

[AHQ] Sims will return from work or school and switch into the same Everyday Outfit they had on instead of defaulting to the first Everyday Outfit in the Create a Sim list. You will wear what I tell you to wear, Sim!

[AHQ] Certain cabinet/shelf combinations over kitchen sinks will no longer prevent Sim from washing in the sink. No excuses for not cleaning up after yourself.

[AHQ] Outdoor shadows now move smoothly without jumping on the screen on ultra graphics settings and at different Live Mode speeds.

[AHQ] Camera jittering is no longer observed in Build Buy mode after using Terrain Tools.

[AHQ] When recent neighborhood stories mention a Sim that died in another neighborhood, switching to the respective Sim household will now have an urn present. RIP.

[AHQ] Upgrading washer/dryer now completes Nerd Brain Aspiration.

[AHQ] Sims will now hold the acarajé dish the right way while eating. It’s delicious however you eat it, though.

[AHQ] Autonomous check infant no longer causes new random cold weather outfit to be generated for infant. They’re not cold.

Infant no longer stretches when crawling in deep snow. Although we question why you’re letting your infant crawl in the snow.

[AHQ] Teen Sim is able to take vacation days while working in the lifeguard career. It’s only fair.

[AHQ] Event goals remain visible even after editing from the Calendar.

Siblings can no longer be set as engaged in Create a Sim.

[AHQ] The Teen Goal Oriented Aspiration now gets completed properly after getting promoted at work.

Investigating missing Doodlepip splines. Reticulation progressing.

[AHQ] “Become friends with“ Want no longer appears for Sims with relationship equal or above friends. We’re already friends.

[AHQ] World icons on the world selection screen no longer move when middle-clicked.

[AHQ] Locked seed packets are unlocked in BB when using the gardening skill cheat “stats.set_skill_level Major_Gardening 10”. Gimme my seeds!

[AHQ] Female Sims' stomachs will no longer become invisible when paired with Masculine cargo pants in certain color swatches.

“Likes/Dislikes“ Sim preferences are now available for Sims created via Create a Sim Stories.

Sim animation will no longer pop when sitting on a stool and asking another Sim an inappropriate question.

[AHQ] Sim thumbnails are no longer low resolution on the Resume button.

[AHQ] Re-fixed issue where Skill List gets out of order, specifically when switching between Sims.

[AHQ] ‘ymTop_TshirtRolled_Yellow' top no longer clips with bottoms in Create a Sim.

[AHQ] Event Goals created through the Calendar properly show up during the Event, even if you edit the Event.

You can view the rest game patch notes on the Official site

#the sims 4 #ts4 #news #sims 4 #Youtube

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