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accio-slytherout · 3 years

Text

Mischief Managed

Concept by @helliontherapscallion

Pairings: p!sbi x reader, p!dreamXD x reader, c!Philza x reader (could be taken as platonic/romantic)

characters: TommyInnit, Ph1lza Minecraft, Wilbur, Technoblade, Captain Puffy

mentioned characters: Fundy

Warnings: Fighting, blood, swearing, pranks, trickery (?), shouting (tell me if I missed anything!)

in game dsmp!au

summary: Reader is the god of mischief and trickery. After catching up with their old friend and his family, they got into a fight with the god of the server, dreamXD.

Not proofread

note: reader does not act like peeves! sorry in advance! i really liked this concept, i just had to write it. i put more effort into this than i did on my social studies essay. was fun to write :D straying from canon lore! I was not sure how to write dreamXD's text, so i wrote it in normal text! i am not very good and pranking, and not that creative or smart on those kind of things, so I will not really specify what is going on in the pranking.

flachbacks in italic

masterpost

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(Y/N) was just skipping around the forest, looking for flowers to make some dye when they stumbled upon a boy that was picking some red flowers.

"WHAT THE F*CK" he shouted with a strong British accent. "Who the f*ck are you?" he continued. "Well who are you child?" they retorted.

"WHAT THE- IM NOT- THE FU- IM NOT A F*CKING CHILD IM A BIG MAN" the 'Big Man' as he called himself retorted, stumbling over his words. He heard a very mischievous laughter come out of the random person he stumbled upon, and he chose to put up the angriest face he could and crossed his arms.

"The name's (Y/N). How about you, big man?" they finally replied with a slight mocking tone. "Tommy. What are you doing here? I've never seen you around before." answered Tommy.

"I'm looking for some dye, so I can dye Fundy's fur" they replied, rather mischievously? Well, point is, Tommy's eyes lit up at the mention of pranking the fox. "Could I maybe help you?" he replied with an equally mischievous tone.

Thats how a friendhip started. They caused pure havoc around the server. Pranking the first person they thought of. They were laughing their butts off on the bench.

"TOMMYINNIT YOU STOP RIGHT THERE!"

Panic rose in their chests as they slowly swallowed and turned around. There stood Captain Puffy looking very angry... with bright pink covering her entire body. They tried their best to hold in their laughter, as she did not look very intimidating.

Yet, Tommy could not help but to start laughing loudly. That pushed (Y/N) over the edge and started laughing hysterically, and they swore they saw Puffy crack a smile at the sight.

"Im- sor- sorry-" he said inbetween his laughter. They both tried their best to stop laughing, and after a while, they did.

Puffy let out a sigh, and said "Tommy, I will get you back. I am warning you." with a glint of amusement in her eyes. Tommy seemed to have sobered up at the thought and looked scared. Puffy left with a wave and headed to her home to probably clean up.

"That was funny though." he said out of the blue. That started another round of laughter to go throught them.

"Say, (Y/N), how old are you?" Tommy asked after they have both calmed down. "I'm the god of mischief and trickery. I'm and immortal being. I am centuries old, kid." they answered.

"Really? That's quite pog! Did you know my father is also immortal? You might know him, name's Philza, Angel of Death. Does that ring a bell?" he rambled, ignoring the fact that they had just called him kid.

(Y/N) was ecstatic at the idea of being able to meet with their old friend again, but decided to say "HECK YEAH! I GET TO MESS WITH HIM AGAIN!" as to hide their feelings. They were the god of trickery after all. They had an image to uphold.

Tommy decided to go take them to Phil. Bad idea. As they reached the door of Phil's cottage, Tommy just burst into the house without knocking.

"Phil~ I'm baack~" Tommy called in a sing-song tone. Phil just said "Welcome back" in a monotone voice from the kitchen without looking.

As he was preparing supper, he heard Techno shout from the living room "TOMMY WHO ON EARTH IS THAT?!". Millions of thoughts start rushing through his head. Who could Tommy have brought with him? He ran out of the kitchen and went to see for himself who it was.

The scene in front of him just made him want to be buried 6 feet under the ground. There it was, His two oldest sons looking at the door from the bottom of the stairs and his youngest son, standing next to the person he hated the most. (Y/N).

They were walking through the forest. Phil felt something touch his shoulder. He turned around, raising his sword as he was startled. There they were, (Y/N), making the weirdest face possible.

"For f*ck's sake (Y/N)! stop it!". That only made them laugh more. "You should have seen your face!" they said inbetween laughter.

The man loathed them. He just wanted to leave them there, in the middle of nowhere, for this was not the only thing they have done in the past hour of adventuring. He, however decided to ignore them, for his heart could not bear the idea of leaving his companion alone.

"Long time no see, Philza." they said with a smirk. "Kill me already" he groaned. That was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

After Phil had supper with his family and the devil- sorry, unexpected guest, he went to clean up as his sons sat in the living room with (Y/N).

"So you're immortal?" said the oldest boy that they learnt was called Wilbur. They nodded as a reply, and he just said "Thats so cool!"

"I have read about you before, however, seeing you, I don't think the book described you correctly. Could you, possibly tell me more about your tricks and stuff?" Technoblade's monotone voice had a slight tone of curiosity and amusement while asking the question.

So they did. They told the boys about their stories. As they finished, they realised that Wilbur and Tommy had fallen asleep and Techno was half paying attention to them.

"You should go to sleep. Both of you. It's quite late already." A voice said behind her. "I'm a god, Phil. I don't need sleep." they retorted as they turned around, looking at the man.

"Suit yourself." he shrugged. He opened his mouth to tell his son to go to sleep, but he realised that his son, in fact was already asleep. He shook his head and got some blankets to lay above his sons. "I guess you can stay the night. It's late anyways" he spoke before (Y/N) could say anything and he left to go to his room. Huge mistake.

Philza minecraft was having a good sleep, when he heard a scream from the living room. He panicked, as his mind made up the worst scenarios possible. As he rushed downstairs, he saw Wilbur with bright pink hair, Tommy with a very bold red hair and hands, along with a half asleep Techno raising his sword.

Only then did he remember, that his least favourite person was at his house. Right as he thought about that, he heard giggling coming from the living room.

"(Y/N)!" he shouted along with Wilbur and Tommy. "Yes?" they batted their eyelashes innocently. Phil watched with amusement at the scene unfolding before him. Tommy and Wilbur shouting at (Y/N) and Techno lowering his sword and laying back down on the couch, sensing no danger.

"Boys, enough. (Y/N), will these dyes wash away?" he finally said in a stern tone that had a hint of amusedment in it. "Ofcourse father of minecraft. Run water through them and they will be gone" they said with such innocence that he would have believed it was not her had he not known it was their doing.

Wilbur and tommy quickly rushed to the bathroom to wash their hair out, and Phil swore the doors of the bathroom would fall off its hinges from the amount of force that was put into opening it.

"I must say, that was pretty funny, (N/N)." Phil said with amusement as he went to prepare some breakfast. (Y/N) smiled proudly from the compliment, as he was always telling her off after pranking.

Phil now remembers why he always asked them to accompany him on adventures. They were fun, and entertaining. Sometimes, they're even smart and helpful. The thought of his adventures with them brought a smile to his face.

A week in their visit, they heard a knock on the door. Phil, thinking it was just (Y/N), thought nothing of it. So he just calmly walks to the door and answers it. What he didn't expect however, was DreamXD at the door, floating in a menacing stance.

"You all give me your youngest son, or you all are dead. You have 24 hours. If you do not hive him by them, you are all dead." DreamXD said in a demonic sound.

As DreamXD turned around, Phil saw a cloud of something covering his sight, he felt... flour? he cleared the flour from his face and saw DreamXD covered in flour and (Y/N) on the roof looking rather sheepishly at DreamXD.

"Sorry, I thought you were Philza" they said sarcastically. "Not sorry, actually." they continued as they cracked an egg and poured it along with some sugar on to DreamXD's head.

DreamXD suddenly whips something out and slapped (Y/N) off the roof. As (Y/N) was used to falling from high places, they landed on the ground with nothing but a few scratches.

DreamXD stabs them with a sword, and blood splattered from their waist. (Y/N), being the god of mischief, had ofcourse had lots of experience on pranking, but wasnt strong. However, they are very witty, as they always find creative ways to prank people.

(Y/N) somehow found a way to make DreamXD retreat, but Phil could not see how. All he saw was smoke, DreamXD leaving and (Y/N) lying on the floor, with blood gushing out of their side making a puddle on the ground.

They let out a chuckle and turned to face Phil. "Your lives are safe, Phil. And what can I say? Mischief... managed." they trailed off as their eyes closed. Phil rushed to bandage them up and put them in a spare bedroom.

A week.

That was how long it was.

One singular week. Seven days. Yet it felt like seven years they had been unconscious. The house felt empty. No chaos. Everyone was worried about them.

Phil let out a sigh. He closed the door and sat down next to where (Y/N) was laying. He traced his index finger over the palm of their hand that he was holding, and whispered "I don't think you know this.. but you really are a great friend, (N/N). I love your personality.. Who am I kidding, I love you."

Phil then thought, they were unconcious. He let out a chuckle at the thought. "Look at me.. talking to someone unconscious." he said out loud, closing his eyes and resting his head on the palm of his hand that was propped up on the bed. Little did he know, they were fully awake, and pretending to be unconscious.

"Aww, thanks Phil. I love you too." he suddenly heard. He whipped his head around to their direction and saw that their head was turned to his direction. He hugged them, minding their injuries and whispered in their ear that he was thankful that they were fine over and over again.

Phil then felt their body shaking and heard gentle sobs coming out of them. He pulled away from the hug and cupped their face in his hands and wiped their tears away.

"What's wrong, (N/N)?" he calmly asked. They just cried more and gave him a hug. They told him that they have never felt accepted, and that the only person that has ever tolerated them was him. They told him that they were happy that he cared for them. They told him how much they cared for him and how great of a friend he was. They told him how much they loved him.

After their little heart to heart session, Phil went to go and prepare lunch for everyone in the house. He told the boys that (Y/N) was awake now. Everyone was glad and relieved that they were awake again. And (Y/N) was glad, that they now had a family that cared for them.

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end.

#platonic mcyt x reader #mcyt x reader #sbi x reader #platonic #dreamxd #sleepy bois inc #philza x reader #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur x reader #philza #tommyinnit #accio writes

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dasywritingblog · 3 years

Text

ENEMIES TO LOVER

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Words: 1.734

(Y/N) P.O.V.

I raise my head to observe the huge building in front of me: the Stark Tower, Avengers headquarter, my new home. Call it whatever you like, but this is not gonna change what is going on right now. I'm still shocked since when Nick Fury in the flash walked in my lab and offered me to work with the Avengers.

I take courage and enter the building where I'm greeted by the headmaster of S.H.I.E.L.D. himself.

FURY: Miss. (y/l/n) it's good to see you. Please follow me,I'll take you to meet the team.

I nod my head in agreement still incredulous of what is happening to me. I follow the man in the elevator that takes us in an enormous living room which alone is three times the size of my flat in Brooklyn.

I look around the room until I notice the whole team sitting at a table at the side of the room near the windows. Everyone is looking at me with a smile on their face, well everyone except the infamous Black Widow that is glaring at me as if she wants to kill me.

FURY: Avengers, this is (y/n) (y/l/n) the recruit I talked to you about. She is a scientist so shell work with Banner in the lab most of the time, but I want her to be trained just in case.

A tall blond guy with enormous man boobs (thanks Hayley Atwell) and piercing blue eyes comes towards me holding out his hand which I shake promptly.

STEVE: Welcome to the team (y/n).

(Y/N): Thank you Captain it's an honor to be here.

A brunette girl comes to me and starts dragging me out of the room making me trip over my own feet.

WANDA: Come on (y/n/n) I give you a tour of the tower. Oh plus I'm Wanda.

(Y/N): Well it's nice to meet you Wanda, although it would have been more pleasant if you hadn't tried to tear off my arm.

Both of us burst out laughing. Maybe I'll fit in here better than I thought.

TIME SKIP (cause I can)

After the tour with Wanda she was recalled by Vision, aka her boyfriend, to prepare dinner, so I kept wandering around the building looking for my bedroom. When I finally find my room I stop in front of it when I hear voices coming from the door next to mine. I know I shouldn't do this, but curiosity is too strong, so I go to the ajar door and begin to listen.

NATASHA: I don't like her Clint, there is something in her that doesn't convince me.

CLINT: Nat you saw her one time and you haven't even talked to her.

NATASHA: She'll provoke so many problems...

CLINT: How do you know that?

NATASHA: She doesn't know how to fight! She is so weak. I'm telling you Clint if we don't do something now she is gonna get us all killed.

I instinctively walk away from the door. I'm hurt by Natashas words, but i don't understand why. I lock myself in my room and start studying to take my mind off the harsh words of the spy until Tonys AI warns me that dinner is ready.

I walk down to the dining room and finde everyone already seated. There are only two vacancies, one near Wanda. I try to sit next to her but I fall with my ass to the ground. Ignoring the fact that everyone is staring at me and the blush on my cheek I stand up and see Natasha standing with a smirk on her face and the chair in her hands.

NATASHA: This is my place newbeen, go find another spot.

I mumble some apology and go sit near Bruce who places a hand on my shoulder in a reassuring manner.

BRUCE: Don't worry, shell warm up to you.

I smile at his words even if deep inside I know it will never happen.

TIME SKIP

It's been a month since the day I arrived at the tower, and I have to say that I settle down pretty well. Time passing I got closer with everyone, me and Wanda are inseparable now and for what concern Natasha she still hates me.

Yep, she spends every day making smart-ass comments about me, insulting me and during training she offers to spar with me just to remember me how weak I am and beat me till I cant stand. At first I thought it was normal, I was new and she didn't know me, I believed she just wanted to defend her family. But day passing by I realized that she wasn't defending anyone, she just hate me and have fun seeing me suffer.

After another day spent being insulted and beaten by Natasha I realized that I was tired of all this shit. As soon as I'm done with the training I run to my room without caring about Wanda running after me and close the door. All the bad things said by the widow come to my mind "you're weak" "do you really think you're worth working here with us?" "you're no one". Without realizing it I start crying and sob, I'm tired of being pushed down, I wanna go back to my old life with my old friends that respect me not beat me. I take a decision,I'm going away. I take the suitcase and start throwing my things into it while thinking of an escape plan.

By dinner time all my things were packed and I had come out with a good plan, I'll escape tonight while everyone is sleeping leaving behind a note to explain myself.

In order to not arouse suspicion I decide to go to dinner where I'm greeted by an angry and worried Wanda.

WANDA: Look who decided to show up! I was worried, you practically runned out of the gym in tears. What happened (y/n/n)?

(Y/N): The usual Wanda. I'm tired of her treating me like shit. Plus the fact that I have a major crush on her doesn't help.

WANDA: Wait, you have a crush on the girl that wants you death?!

(Y/N): For God sake Wanda don't shout!

WANDA: Sorry.

(Y/N): I've always had a crush on her and at first I believed that she could love me back, but I was a fool for believing that.

WANDA: I'm so sorry (y/n/n).

She hugged me for a while making me feel safe and loved and then we walk to the table and start eating with the other.

The only noise that fills the room right now is the chewing of food, that's so awkward usually during the meal everyone chat and laugh, but today everyone is quiet and busy sharing worried looks.

(Y/N): Is everything ok?

NATASHA: Sure thing love.

I spit the water into the plate.

(Y/N): Sorry, what?

NATASHA: Are you ok (y/n/n/)?- she stand up and walk to me cupping my face with one of her hands- you seem a little bit pale princess.

I feel my face heat up at the nickname and I start to shutter.

(Y/N): No, youre perfect, I I mean I'm perfectly fine.

NATASHA: Did you all hear her? What did you say about me?

She squished my face more.

(Y/N): No-nothing...

NATASHA: That's better you whore. Don't you dare to hope that I can fall in love with a dumb bitch like you!

I start to tear up, those words hurt me, but she is right, how could I believe that a Goddess like her could love a nobody like me.

NATASHA: Cry baby.

WANDA: Natasha enough! You did your job, you broke her, now let her be!

As soon as Natasha left my face I ran in my bedroom and started crying, hoping that the night will come soon.

TIME SKIP

It's 1a.m. and Im walking down the hall of the tower with my suitcase trying not to make a sound and hoping that Jarvis doesn't notify anyone that I'm escaping. I almost made it to the door when I heard the last person I wanted to hear call my name.

NATASHA: Where are you going?

I take a deep breath and turn around to face her for the last time.

(Y/N): Away. But why do you care Natasha, isn't that what you always wanted?

NATASHA: Wow, easy there (y/n). I never wanted you to leave.

(Y/N): Really Natasha? Then why you insulted me and beaten me every fucking day? Admit it you hate me and you enjoy yourself seeing me suffer!

NATASHA: (y/n) I'm

(Y/N): Dont (y/n) me! You broke me Natasha and right now I want you to let me go so the both of us can be happy.

Natasha looked at me shocked so I took this chance to walk away drying my tears with the sleeve of my hoody. I was almost out of the door when Natasha pulled me by my arm and crushed her lips on mine. I froze.

NATASHA: Now is my time to talk. I didn't mean to hurt you (y/n), never. Is just that the day you walked in this tower I fell in love with you cause you were different from everyone else, and when I realized how I felt about you I got scared and I tried to push you away cause I didn't want to hurt you. But I end up hurting you more.

I'm standing in front of Natasha speechless. Part of me wants to believe me and let her love me, but the other part tells me to walk away without looking back.

(Y/N): How do I know you won't hurt me again?

NATASHA: You don't know. You have to trust me and if you do I promise I'll treat you like you deserve and love you with all my body and soul.

I look at her teary eyes, my heart melts and a smile grows on my lips.

(Y/N): You have a chance Romanoff. But if you hurt me you're dead, got it?

NATASHA: Yes ma'am.

Love you all and be safe

Dasy🥰

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #girls who like girls #enemies to lovers #angst #happy ending

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sly-merlin · 3 years

Text

KILLING ME- 14

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : (fluff) angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : cursing, mention of drugs, character death.

words : ~4k

summary :

“life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

K.M 13

TAGLIST : @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey @simplybree

@yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @minejungwoo @leesalts @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl–ankhaeji @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @bralessmermaid @minhoseyeliner @tyongpoetry @swimmingkpopblog @jkjkseo @orphicmoon @floralescapes

A/N : this chapter marks the celebration of this blog surpassing 600 followers! thank you so much for all the support! also for minor readers, the sfw versions of nsfw chapters are given at the end of the masterlist so check those properly before reading.

•••••••••••••

y/n! Are you sleeping?”

Registering his words, you replied in a groggy voice,“What the fuck do you want?”

“Your phone. I left mine in the medical room. I need to call Mark right now.” with some authority, he spoke.

Whining loudly, you fell back on the bed. It was only due but flailing your arms and legs like a kid in a toy store, you let out a screech full of annoyance, cursing your fate.

Were you really going to babysit him now?

"Have you suddenly lost your hearing? Stop with this sick attitude and open the door."

A puff of air left your nose, your chest moved rhythmically with your stomach and you relaxed your arms beneath your head, eyes fixed at the fan above and ears ringing with his voice. He kept calling you and after a number of shouts, you started humming to distract yourself, afraid that you'd end up helping him otherwise. That was something, naturally, you were not interested in. Last time he had ignored your voice and now nature had presented you with an opportunity to return the favour. Just with a bit less flavour.

"Are you dead?"

"Hmmm. To you, yes I am." Mumbling, you yawned and pushed yourself up to reach your side table and fishing out your earphones from the bottom drawer, you untangled them and fixed them comfortably in your ear, hiding yourself underneath the sheets.

Sonata no.14 instantly transported you away from the noise and the stress that was your unwanted husband, yuta. The smile playing on your lips widened as you realised that you were his only mode of communication at the moment.

But You were going for a nap. Until then, he could wait. And thrash. And cry. Or die.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you rotated the handle of the door to walk outside but your little trip was interrupted when your body collided straight into a wall. No. The obstruction was too soft for a wall.

Opening your eyes properly, you saw yuta standing stiff. Surprised at the sudden appearance, you immediately stumbled back and in hurry, hit your spine on the wooden door. The glare of his eyes, that always spoke more than you could comprehend, coupled with a clenched jaw, was not a very pleasant sight for sure yet you found it harder to dart your own eyes away from him.

"Your phone" he seethed, breathing deeply.

"Huh?" You croaked out.

He raised his brow and in an instant, the previous scenario played like a short movie in your head. Snapping your head down, you regarded his leg with pity. He obviously noticed it immediately but seemed to ignore it and refrained from saying anything. Good for you, you thought.

"Are you deaf?"

Your furrowed brows met his eyes and with a roll of his own, he picked up his finger to force his demand but you managed to walk back inside your room before he could've done that.

Your back faced him as you contemplated your options while slowly stretching your arm to reach for your phone on the other side of the bed.

should you even be giving him your phone?

You had more trust in Taeyong than the man you shared a roof with so there was no way you were doing that.

Unbeknownst to you, yuta was watching your movements intently and the way you bobbed your head, he knew you were scheming something so he decided to be polite for a moment. Only until you were needed. Or your phone was needed.

Once the phone was in your hand, another thought crossed your mind.

"Wait. Where is the house phone?" Crossing your arms, you asked him slyly, already knowing the answer

"You fucking never got it installed. It's still in its stupid package" he seemed rather impatient.

"And you could've called reception through the door telecom. He would have phoned Mark for you. These rich apartments certainly have more hospitality tha-

"I CAN'T GO AROUND DISTRIBUTING AN UNDERGROUND CRIMINAL'S CONTACT NUMBER TO EVERYONE"

He inhaled and exhaled and you just watched until he opened his eyes again, hand reaching out to you.

"Chill. I've every right to be sceptic especially when you are the one asking for it."

Finding Mark's number on your phone, you called him.

Yuta's hand threaded through his rough hair as he noticed what you were trying to do.

"Hey mark!" Your chirpy voice resounded in the room and yuta was sure this was some different spirit speaking. You sounded too bubbly for the way you were investigating him just a second ago.

"Yes yes. His phone exactly.i don't trust him enough to hand over my phone so that's why I'm calling you myself. Just hurry up if you can or you might have to clean up a dead body in the next few hours."

With that you cut the phone. Without meeting yuta's gaze and resting your hand on the handle, you mumbled,

"He'll be here in an hour."

You were about to close the door when he stopped it with the palm of his hand, alerting you with the force.

"Tell him to get some food too."

And limping, he retired back, to the couches.

Sighing, you messaged mark. Had it been for something else, you'd have ignored but your own stomach had signalled you that it needed some good food so you chose not to fight against your own body.

Now, only the taste of the food could decide how many days you were going to tolerate that barbaric human.

"Are you still going to that stupid internship?" Johnny hesitantly murmured from your desk chair while taking big bites from the plate.

"It's not stupid please! I’m just waiting for them to actually pay attention to my awesome capabilities so they can transfer me to the main branch. This is not bad either but”, you stopped to lick your forefinger and tasting the sauce, continued, “but I really wanna go into the criminal unit. That’s where the actual fun is. As long as i’m being paid decently, i’ll suffer with the stupid research work here.”

“With the tongue as sharp as yours, I think you should be getting ready for a demotion instead” he laughed, showing you his fake bunny teeth in the most annoying and childish way.

“Ha ha ha ha. Some well wisher you are! Thank you so much for looking out for me but I'll be fine. Who knows the gatekeeper’s pay package is more than me. So it’d be a win-win in that case too I guess?” when you did a drum roll with your chopsticks to stress upon your point, he laughed harder.

"So being broke is the new black?" Rolling his eyes, he dragged out, "I swear you kids don't know how this world works."

"And you, grandpa of the century, knows?"

"I'm aware of what I need for my survival and from what I've learnt, you can either take risks or look for job security. In your case, " he fake coughed, "where the proportions of risk taking have already exceeded the acceptable limit, a job security is the best and safest option to choose."

"And that would justify my greed and desire to work for the biggest company of this city."

"Kun. The security you need and the independence you seek would be given by kun. Chois are hmm how to say? Cheap? Yeh cheap. They have no work ethics. "

"Have you worked with them, johnny?"

"No. I'm ju-

"Then was your ex a choi?" You saw his eyes comically and cutely widening at your remark.

"No. My ex wasn't a choi and that's not what I'm saying and you know that."

"Oh. So your ex wasn't a choi. Then a lee? Kim? Im? Oh my god! Look at your cheeks seo!" You dragged out. He shook his head as you kept wiggling your brows at him.

"She was a kim but that doesn't mean I would hate all kims dude. That's baseless and stop ignoring the topic. I want you to apply in Kuns. It's the best option. Do it as soon as you-

"Yeah yeah we'll see about that. First take that bitch back. I can't even nap in his presence. "

"Umm. Yeah. You gotta tolerate him. And besides he's injured. Injured yuta is like a gun without a bullet. He's gonna shout for a day or two and then peace out. He'll be sleeping and reading in his room and you won't even know if he's alive or not."

"Now that's bullshit. What is he going to do here anyway? I hope he can hop himself on one leg because even if the sun rises from the north, I am not going to do a single task for him. He can die hungry , for all I care.”

“Do you think you can endure him for some tasty dinners?”

Clicking your tongue, you quipped, “Do you really think you can buy me with a few homemade meals?”

Day 1

Yes. you were sold. The moment the tasty noodles had melted in your mouth, you knew you had no dignity. And you were indeed ashamed of yourself.

Earlier, Renjun had called you to inform you that he had delivered the food and medicines for yuta and had left your dinner box but he had failed to mention the special and endearing note that was pasted on the glass box. In the curvy letters, it read bitchy piglet and you swore the only person you’d be killing before yuta would be jaehyun. But you were going to use jaehyun to build up your tolerance instead.

When you went out to clean your dishes, he was playing some game on his phone, excitement evident from the way he was laughing every other second. Maybe if he remained occupied, he would not be so insufferable.

Day 3

"Oyii! Oyii!"

No. You were wrong. He was very very much insufferable.

At midnight, his voice echoed, disturbing your sleep. You cursed at the cool atmosphere that had prevented you from using the air con which otherwise would have blocked his annoying screeches. But it seemed like bad luck wanted to change its name to y/n instead. With your name being called like a broken record, it was a fight between you and him that you were not going to lose. Shuffling to your side, you covered your ears with the other pillow and tried to drown out the annoyingly demanding and hoarse voice. There was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of having any power over you. He could cry for all he liked!

“What the fuck do you want at this hour?”

Attempting a glare at him through sleepy lids, you spewed with irritation. Unlike you, he was very much awake, breathing with the sole purpose of making you question your whole existence.

“Pillow” scratching his non-existent beard, he mumbled.

Your nostrils flared and jaw clenched at such inconvenient command.

“You summoned me for a pillow? A pillow that can normally be found on a person’s bed? Can you please rectify your demand or did I just simply hear something wrong?”

The opened curtains and the moonlight that drenched the room was the only source that illuminated his face for you and even with drooping eyes, you could see how serious he was and yet you couldn't hold your tongue back because he simply deserved every shit you bestowed him with.

“Turn the lights on and count the pillows on my bed! And when you are done, get me some pillows from your room.” he simply stated.

“Why should i give you my pillow? I need them!”

“Because I don't use a pillow and I need it asap!”

“Then why do you suddenly need one? To disturb my sleep? Oh that makes sense.” and suddenly, your eyes had synced with your body to side with your fight mode.

“I need them for elevating my leg. The bandage is too tight and it’s not comfortable.”

“Then why don't you walk out of the room and get some cushions for yourself!” you raised your volume.

“Because my leg is in pain and i’m unable to get up? What makes you think I'm dying to see your ugly face at this time of the night. I dont wanna have nightmares of you as well but i can't help it ok!”

“you should have kept them near you. And who are you calling ugly hmm? You poop fac-

“Okay scream for all you want! But get me a pillow when your battery dies down!”

“What the fuck d- are you covering your ears? Wow ways to be generous!”

Stomping your foot, you left the room to get the hardest cushion on the couch.

“Here! Next time call Mark if you want anything. Don’t raise your voice ever again to call me because unlike you, i have work in the morning and hence I need some sleep..”

Just when you were about to leave after shoving the cushion in his hand, he spoke up again,

“This is damn hard! I asked for your pillow specifically and not th- AHH!”

A scream left him as you harshly removed the support , leaving his leg to painfully meet the mattress.

“How about you fix your attitude before fixing your leg?” suggesting, you dropped the cushion on the floor and left.

He didn't call you after that. Nor that you cared. However, the sleep in your eyes somehow vanished. Dancing on your sides didn’t help. Neither did drinking a glass of water. So, with a groan, you listened to your conscience and picked up your extra pillow that was sadly too perfect for your enemy.

Padding to his room, you tried your best to scrutinise and hearing his heavy snores, you placed the pillow right under his thigh and the cushion under his calf. Scoffing at his sleeping figure, you internally groaned to remind yourself that you hadn't done it for him. It was just a debt. For the blanket he had once covered you with. Nothing more and nothing less.

Day 5

You just wanted him out of your hair. He was just being a load on your head. At first, only the work was kicking your ass, then jungwoo was kicking you like a punching bag for an hour straight and adding to your distress was yuta.

"I'm not your maid! Stop piling up the dishes for me. I've had enough mercy on you. From today onwards, get a cleaner for yourself or buy disposable cutlery. I'm not going to clean after you!"

With a roll of his eyes, he had ignored you.

And so did you. Pasting a warning note on the sink tap, you had left for the library with a dying hope that maybe the kitchen would be spotless on your arrival or you'd be dialing some numbers in the evening.

For someone who despised the solemn atmosphere of libraries, you had successfully spent 11 hours in the said hellish room. It was 11 p.m and you wanted to sleep, more than anything but here you were, waiting for yugyeom so he'd just pick you up for a good drinking session that you were dying to have.

Fortunately, you weren't the only one who had missed living these past days. Everyone, for different reasons, was suffering so you felt a little less bad for yourself even though you knew your troubles were far more grave than their academic burdens.

"Wake up shorts" someone whispered in your ear. Squirming on your seat, you whipped your head in your sleepy state and found jungkook caressing your head, goofily smiling at you.

"I thought you wanted to hang out till the next morning" air quoting the last words, he picked up your bag.

"Yeah. Let's go. I'm all ready for a night full of vodkas." You yawned out.

"Definitely. No. You are going home. We can have a small get together me and yuggy are done with our final project." He dragged you out into the parking lot.

" I feel like it's been years since we got drunk together. You are never here anymore!" You whined at him, complaining your heart out.

"I will be. Soon. Then we can celebrate your little choi job as well."

"Oh please. Don't even mention it. If I had penny for every time they rolled their eyes at me, I'd be richer than your parents kook." You huffed out and as his gentle laugh surrounded you, you closed your eyes resting your back against the seat, expecting to be up by the time he'd park.

But the next day, you woke up tangled in the sheets of your bed, unaware of the events of the previous night.

When you had warned yuta about the dirty dishes, you hadn't expected him to fill the corners of the kitchen with disposable containers. It looked like you had missed a whole drama while sleeping in the library. The kitchen was shining except for the new utensils. But as long as you were not babysitting him, you were fine with anything. You didn't want to jinx your relief, however, you were glad you would be able to get some work done. finally.

You had spoken too early for your own good. Just when you sat down to write your paper, passionate and enthusiastic howls of that man pierced through your earphones and once again, you opened the window and hopped outside, in the balcony, ready to drown him out. Sipping on your lemonade, you gaped at the scenery the not so distant traffic provided you with and somehow, your thoughts wandered to the only person these horns reminded you of. Johnny.

What are you doing? Your fingers hovered over the text but once again, you deleted the message, declaring it to be too childish for someone as mature as him. Maybe you were just being silly. Maybe you were not. But who was going to put a stamp on your maybe?

Tears pricked your eyes as the harsh words of your senior thundered in the room. He kept shouting and you had no option than to consume each and every word he directed at you. Even if you were being insulted in front of your twenty other co-workers, staying quiet was the best option, you ascertained. so along with your saliva, you gulped your explanations down your throat.

Howsoever unconscious, you were still in the wrong. There was no excuse as to why you had mailed the wrong bills, apart from the headache that was caused by the person possibly lying on the sofa and watching t.v back home. No matter how much you tried to run away from his existence, he had somehow managed to let himself inside your head.

Glaring at the kid who asked for his turn on the park swing, you pushed yourself a little higher, letting the wind greet your stinging eyes as it hit your face in waves. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you chose to ignore jungwoo for a day as it was the time, you decided, to let all the lessons that the past few months had taught you sink into your mind, to bleed into your soul so you won’t ever be able to deviate from them. Ever.

Only if that was so easy. You knew blaming others for your problems was no solution but trivialising them by not paying heed wasn't a smart move either.

When you reached home, your frustrations had died down. So when yuta simpered and pointed towards your empty container, telling you how he had already finished your supposed dinner, you simply rolled your eyes at him, robbing him of whatever he wanted to achieve by riling you up. Heating up the water, you were about to open the noodles packet when yeong called you.

You stared at the shattered phone screen in disbelief as the endless tears ran down your cheeks. As you verbalised the words to yourself again, your body met the floor with a thud.

Jungkook. Drugs. No more.

Three words had silenced the screeches in your head and your mind busied itself in rejecting what you had heard for it had to be a lie. But what how were you going to ignore the heart wrenching screams that yeong had let out. How were you going to dismiss the truth.

How were you all going to accept it?

••••••••••••••••

next update: Some day between 5-7 June.

#nct-writers #neowritingsnet #cznnet #kafenetwork #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct smut #nct angst #nct mafia #nct reactions #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #yuta smut #nct arrange marriage #yuta angst #yuta mafia #johnny scenarios

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enby-crisis · 3 years

Text

Past Missions (Five Hargreeves x reader) Valentines Special

Summary: A Flashback revels how (Y/n) and Five got married.

Word Count: 1357

Warnings: None?

A/n: This was supposed to be the Valentines Day Special and a former apology but there were some minor set backs involving a broken computer. Enjoy!

A Gentelman pt 4 Masterlist

"Five is the mission done?" You ask as your partner stumbles in, clearly enjoying the alcohol at some wedding held at the casino you were staying at. Being in 1934 was weird for you. It was as close to your own time as you've been since you left. It made you nervous at the possibility that someone could recognize you but you lived in New York and this was all the way across the country. "No he wasn't there." Five slurs. "Well it seems you enjoyed your stake out. Did you gatecrash that poor couple's wedding Mr. Hargreeves? " You tease. You already knew of Five's relationship with alcohol. You would never tell him this but he focused better when he drank so you minded less. Even if he was a bit of a blotto and seemed to drowned in the stuff. You stared at your work notes at the though of you not minding him being drunk. You should. You should. You tried to catch yourself but quickly realized that you might actually be pinning after this man. He was sarcastic but kind, arrogant and impulsive but you liked that he never treated you like that. He was playful but wasn't mean and not only knew your boundaries but tried his best to respect them. "You okay?" You jump, not noticing the older man hovering above you. "What were you thinking? You zoned out there doll." He mocked. He only called you doll because in your time it was used as a term of endearment and it was the only word he knew from your era. It was actually a term used after you time but you didn't want to correct him. "Yeah I'm fine." You dodged. "Okay but you didn't answer my other question. What were you thinking?" He smirked as he got closer to your face. You backed up as far as you could without falling out of the small wooden chair. "Nothing. please just-" "Drop it?" He finished. "Sure yes. 'drop it' as you say." You roll your eyes and pick up your pen to return to your report. "Look (Y/n) I don't know what's gotten into you but ever since that mission in Paris-" "We were in Versailles. Not Paris." You correct. "We were basically in Paris! Don't correct me." His voice rose an octave then went back down to a softer tone. "What's this about?" You deadpan, quickly losing interest. "You!" He shouts now. "Me?!" You stand, "I have yet to do a thing!" "You hide things from me. All. The. Time." Five calmly replied, drinking more from his bottle. "If it is so important then ask me anything." You try to mellow out too. Not wanting to get into a fight with a man who was intoxicated. "What were you thinking. When I walked in?" He asked again. "I..." You blush, "You. I was thinking about you." You spoke softly, afraid that Five would shame you for your feelings. It wasn't uncommon when a man would do so. "What about me?" He quirked an eyebrow. A mix of curiosity and suspicion on his face. Stupid old man. You think before slowly closing the gap. You put a hand on his face and smile when his breath hitches. You then quickly place a kiss on his lips before pulling back just as fast. "Not fair." He grunts before pulling you back to his lips for another heated kiss. You move with him, letting him guide you back to the desk. He lifted you up on the desk, moving his hand up your mid-length dress. "Five..." You pulled away. "Mh?" He hummed against your lips as he kissed you again. "I-I'm not- It's just- Five I'm a virgin." You rush out, and he pulls away. "So?" He starts to kiss down your collar bone. "Technically so am I." "Technically?" You push him back now. "Yeah.. Delores doesn't really count. She's my companion from the apocalypse. She was a mannequin I found in a clothing store." "I really don't want to ask what happened with you and a mannequin Five." You hush. "Then don't." He sasses and gives you that smirk. But Five was too smart not to know there was something else going on that had nothing to do with his past companion with the real doll. "Okay I'll bite. What is the problem then?" "We're not married..." You whisper, looking down and fixing your dress.

"That's what this is about?" The man huffs, exasperated by the trivial subject such as marriage. However after a moments contemplation Five seemed to remember where you came from and the importance to asking ones hand in marriage. "Then marry me."

You freeze, half expecting what he said to be caused by his drunken state. When Five doesn't take it back you respond, "You're drunk Five." And hop off the table with a pout.

The grey haired man wrinkles his nose at the accusation. "I am not that drunk sweetheart." He pause "But you already know that!"

"Prove it then. Ask me again in the morning you lousy, ossified, hard-boiled, upstaged oyster!" You shout back startling the man before you..

"Fine." Five calmly says, confused by most of the insult of slang he didn't understand. Without another word he pivots on his heels and leaves.

You grunt and turn back to finish your commissions report.

Practically done the door to the hotel room opens back up and Five walks in with an early 1950's style tea length wedding dress and a cardbord box.

You stared at him dumbfounded and quite curious.

"(Y/n). Remember that mission to London to make sure Orwell contracted tuberculous?" Five started, putting down the dress and box on the bed.

You were too busy staring at the lacing on the long-sleeved dress to do more then nod your head. You were too scared to touch the dress in case it was some twisted illusion.

"That's when I knew I loved you. Watching you go though and pet all the dogs at the road side market made laugh." Five continues to talk while he picked though the box, finding what he was looking for he smiles and holds a smaller wooden box in his hand. "When you walked away to get us food and I went to look for a jeweler I bought a ring, your ring, because I saw you pick it up when we stopped by the first time." As if seeing your hesitance he shows you the space themed sapphire ring and you tear up.

"On the mission to Greece?" Five says holding up a golden crown.

The mission to Russia? The one you hated so much you cried?" He holds up a vale.

The mission to California? You sat on the beach and watched the stars. I came back and you were asleep so I carried you to bed." He held up a tan tie with sea stars on it. By now you had a steady stream of tears down your face.

"I fell for you so hard (Y/n). Every time I wanted to tell you- I couldn't. I settled for buying things because you know I hate communicating and I knew you wouldn't believe me if I did tell you. Fine maybe not tonight but one night I want to marry you. Some night. I know you are terrified because of all that time you spent alone, having to fight for yourself but I am here now. Fighting seems so unlike you. I know if you had a choice you wouldn't be here but I fell for you. No I didn't fall in love with you. I fell in love with how you saw the world and it was through those eyes that I saw what I was missing. Sweetheart I saw home. I saw you and me forever. I saw a future which knowing where I came from was the scariest feeling in the world but I still would marry you but you have to say yes." Five finishes, only steps away from you as he waits for your answer.

Once more over come with lack of words, this time due to the insistent sobbing you simple nod your head and kiss him.

Taglist

@wumboho @nerds4life246 @11mb0 @herbatkazmiloscia @herbatkazmiloscia @herbatkazmiloscia @herbatkazmiloscia @uhhhfrogs @somanyminidragons @uhhhfrogs @somanyminidragons @fruitsaladtree @buuhsworld @fangirl3092 @xplrreylo @lucytheripper @im-here-for-fanfics @coffee-e-addict @eurus-thxngs @five-scoffee @justawilddreamerchild @mayempress @yikes-matey @alexander-hamilhoe @fwri @bubblegumflamingos

#tua fanfic #tua #umbrella acedmy #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #tua five #five the umbrella academy #number five fanfic #time travel #the commission #x reader #x reader fanfiction #fanfic #fanficton #tua fandom #tua fanart

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illneverrecover · 4 years

Text

call you mine (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: friends with benefits!AU, non Idol!AU, angst, smut, fluff. ➛word count: 2,741 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: idk this is truly some sweet soft shit, mentions of alcohol, friends with benefits, standing sex, slight rough sex, biting/marking because clearly I have a kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of Mingi!!, lots of kissing, soft clown Chaingang truly. ➛summary: Changkyun knew he ruined your friends with benefits arrangement when he let his feelings be known, and now you’ve left him on read for weeks. So he does the only thing he can to stay sane - he religiously watches your Instagram stories. ➛notes: Another first for me - my first Monsta X fic! I’ve played around with writing Changkyun for a while now, mostly because I live to torture @taetaesbaebaepsae (which she deserves from all the PAINFUL and RUDE Baekhyun shit she’s written for me). However, she decided to actively commission her own demise, because she stays not listening to Namjoon and refuses to love herself. I’m glad I finally got a chance to take a stab at writing her ult, and I hope I did him justice! Enjoy your tomfoolery, Kristin! 💖 ➛song: Call You Mine - The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha | Horizon - I.M. & Elhae

It’s pathetic, he knows.

The way he can’t stop watching, the way he seeks your face out in an app full of millions of others. The way he can’t get you out of his bed, his head, his thoughts.

He fucked up, scared you off, and now he’s left with the aftermath of his own stupidity. Watching you through a screen to fight the withdrawals off, to keep his heart beating.

Changkyun knows you would laugh at him if you saw what he was doing.

Watching your Instagram stories is the only reason he’s heard you laugh in over two weeks, the only way he’s been able to see your eyes light up, your lips curve into a salacious grin. Things he fucking missed, thought he would have plenty of time to indulge in - until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and ruined it.

He had taken you back to his place after a few shots of whisky at the dingy local bar, hands and mouth unable to leave your skin - just like the hundreds of times before. It had been four months since you had started this friends with benefits relationship, and despite having freedom to see whomever he wanted, Changkyun found himself only starving for you. So hungry that he couldn’t stand another moment in that place, watching you share your smile with anyone other than him. So he had tugged you close, nipped at your ear, told you that you were so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stand there another minute without you coming undone around him.

You had smirked, slid your hand down the front of his pants, grabbing his cock like you owned it, purring out the words “prove it” before following him outside, just like the hundreds of times before.

Pressed up against his wall, his pelvis flush with yours, Changkyun whispered filth in your ears as he ground up against you, swallowing your moans in greedy kisses. Desperate fingers had pulled at your top, freeing your breasts for him to worship as he worked your skirt up around your waist, thrusting his clothed length against your core until you were whining.

Changkyun always promised to take his time with you, to work you over until you were drunk on his touch and pleading for more - but you never let him, always knowing the right thing to say to get his gaze to go dark and lust to turn frantic, to unzip his jeans and press inside your dripping cunt right there in the hallway.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

You had come around him, digging your nails in his back so hard it left marks, made him growl your name against your collarbone as his thrusts picked up speed to fuck you through the high. You urge him on in the way only you can manage, begging for his release, whispering how much you want his come deep in your cunt. Biting down against the skin, he had spilled inside you with a final groan, hips twitching as he pumped you full of him, forehead resting against your shoulder.

Instead of pulling away immediately, Changkyun remained collapsed against you, breathing heavy. You had smacked at his shoulder, but he just chuckled, arms adjusting to continue a firm hold of your legs as he stayed inside of you, trapping you against his body and the wall.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” scoffing, you had grasped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I let you fuck me dirty against the wall without even demanding you buy me food after. Least you can do is let me get cleaned up.”

He had gazed up at you then, eyes piercing as they looked through you, and your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

He knew he shouldn’t say it. Knew it would scare you off. And yet….

“I would, you know.” Swallowing thickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Take you to go get food. If you - I mean, if you wanted. If you’d let me.”

It was like he could see the carefully crafted defenses go up, the pain etching your brow and making your eyes go cold. Anxiety flooded his veins as you wiggled out of his grasp, sliding your clothes back into place as you moved towards his bathroom.

“You don’t mean that,” you murmured, faking a smile. “You know what this is, Kyun.”

“I do mean that!” He knew he sounded too eager, too pitiful, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d take you out to dinner. Or,” following you, he paused in the doorway, watching you appraise yourself in the mirror. “We could just get take-out and go somewhere private, drive to a park, bring a blanket and some booze, eat somewhere no one would know or bother us.”

Your answering laugh had sounded wrong, like it had cost you something - like it was the last thing you had wanted to do.

“Like a picnic? Changkyun, you’re saying you want to take me on a picnic? Like a proper date?”

Stuttering, he tried to explain himself, but you had cut him off with a single wave.

“Listen, we both know I’m not that kind of girl, and you don’t want me to be.” Leaning forward, you had pressed a kiss against his mouth, your eyes somber when you had pulled away, moved towards the door.

“What if I do?” His voice broke, wanting to reach out but his arms remaining stiff at his sides. “What if I want you to be that kind of girl, with me?”

Tears stung your eyes, your stomach sinking like you had been punched. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle the inevitable disappointment that would come when you got your hopes up.

“I’ll see you around,” you threw over your shoulder before shutting the door, and shutting him out.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

It had been two weeks now since he last saw you in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying; texting you at all hours had proven fruitless, even when he tried to send the usual ‘you up’ message like he didn’t just lay his heart out on the line. You responded airily, non committal, and he knew what you were doing.

You were trying to let him down easy.

So here he was, phone glued to his hand as he scrolled through to find your picture, clicking on it to see if there was any update. You didn’t post a bunch in your feed, but you had a tendency to update your stories often - filling them with silly memes and cute selfies, little videos of you going about your day. Cuddling with your cat, attempting to cook something for lunch. His favorite was when you would do tarot readings for your followers; the way your face would turn serious as you read the cards, passionate fire in your eyes as you helped deliver the message to its owner.

Seeing you that excited and genuine did something to him, made his chest feel like it was going to explode.

He knows you can tell that he’s watching, can see the icon of his profile showing up at the bottom of the video under “seen by.” He can only imagine what you’re thinking when you see it - that he’s a loser, this friend with benefits who turned lovesick puppy, but he can’t make himself care. It’s the only way he feels close, can pretend you’re still in his life.

He never thought that he would need you, now all he wants is to see you - for you to answer him, to come back to him.

Changkyun still sends texts, unable to stop his fingers from reaching out, despite knowing you’ll shut him down. He calls sometimes too, late at night when his blood is more whisky than plasma, though you never answer those. Instead he listens to your voicemail, eyes closed to stop the world from spinning, letting your voice lull him to sleep.

He convinces himself he’s fine with this arrangement, that things would be alright. He can just miss you from afar, observe you live your life through the pixels of a screen. That watching your stories is enough for him, will keep him afloat.

Until he sees you with someone else.

It was another Friday night he was spending alone, half drunk and on his phone, looking for your picture. Taking a deep breath, he had felt his heart stop when he saw the rainbow ring adorning your profile photo, meaning you had updated your story. Sighing, he tapped it, hoping that it would be a few videos so he could pretend for just a moment that he was beside you instead of wasting space on his bed.

The first clip was a selfie, your heavily lidded eyes staring seductively at the camera through your lashes, making his pulse jump and pants tighten. The caption “gonna get drunk tonight!” scrolled across the image, right below the pout of your lips. The next was a small video of you making a drink, giggling about the mixture of tequila and soju you were tossing in your cup, whispering to the camera how it was going to get you ‘all the way fucked up’. But it was the third clip that had his chest heaving, his lungs forgetting how to work.

You were walking out your door, a few people cluttering your front porch as you asked if anyone had a light. Some tall red headed kid - Changkyun refused to acknowledge him as anything more than that - had shouted out, and you squealed as you ran up to him, sliding directly onto his knee before switching the camera into selfie mode to capture the two of you. The next clip was you in his lap, one of your delicate hands sliding through his hair as he gave you a big dopey grin, a cigarette perched on your lips as you cooed at him and told him just how cute he was.

Fuck. He knew that look of yours, knew those moves. Knew exactly what you were doing, what you were hoping to do with that fucking Mingi kid, and he couldn’t stand it, not anymore.

Taking a few deep pulls directly from the liquor bottle, his fingers flew over the keys of his phone, sending you text after text - all of which were ignored. He knew calling would be pointless, that you would rather light yourself on fire than answer your phone - especially at a party - and he felt desperation creep up his throat, choking him.

Changkyun couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let you just forget about him.

Clicking back onto Instagram, he started sending you responses to the story video as he got dressed, throwing on the nearest pair of jeans and sliding on his boots.

<Baby?>

<I’m on my way. Don’t take that kid to your bed.>

It took painfully long for the Lyft to show up, and he gritted his teeth the whole route there, knee bouncing to stop himself from demanding the driver to go faster, to just hurry the fuck up and get to you.

When the car had pulled into your neighborhood, he tried to send another message, instead clicking a video. Too frustrated to change it back, he lets it record, his voice low and pained.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

You were alone on the deck when your phone started vibrating, the ding of an Instagram direct message making you click the app, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the number of notifications.

Changkyun, all from him.

Awestruck, you scrolled through every line, your heart throbbing with each word he had written.

You didn’t think he cared, not like that. Sure, he missed the sex, but that’s what you expected. That’s what all of them wanted when they sent you late night texts, when they called your phone at three in the morning. Empty promises and broken vows were what kept you company in the dark, when they’d predictably leave you alone with an ache between your legs and in your chest. None of them really wanted you, cared about you. After a few weeks of ghosting, they’d all disappear into thin air like expected, and your heart would harden just a bit more.

But now…

Another chime pulls you from your thoughts, eyes flicking back to the light of your phone. Instead of another direct message, it’s a notification that Changkyun had updated his story for the first time in months.

Shaking fingers slide against the screen, your vision blurring as you take in the shadowed back seat of another person’s car, the only light neon pink from the sign of the Lyft drivers decal. For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet chattering of a distant radio, of someone breathing heavily.

And then his voice croaking over the speaker, raspy with need.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

The video fades just as a car pulls up to your curb, a flurry of movement as Changkyun climbs out, stumbles towards you. He all but collapses into your arms, his breath dripping with liquor, eyes reddened but burning fiercely.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, hands coming to cup your face, thumb dragging against the smooth skin of your cheek. “I want to take you on a picnic.”

You laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about? Did you call a Lyft and come all the way across town to tell me that, you clown?”

His finger taps against your lips once, twice. “Shh. Just let me-” he sighs, stomping a foot. “Let me talk.”

He waits until you nod before continuing, words surging from his mouth as if he couldn’t hold back a second longer.

“I came all the way here because I want to take you on a picnic. I want to buy you food and take you on cute little dates and do cheesy things that make you smile at me like you are right now,” he grins, pulling you until your chest rests against his own. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me anymore. I meant everything I said - that I miss you, that I want to be with you, if you’ll give me the chance. I want to call you mine.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes fall shut, his voice fervent and barely more than a whisper.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Tears brim your eyes, and you fight every old wound that tells you to shove him away, to call him a liar. Instead you allow yourself to follow your gut, your heart for what feels like the first time, leaning back to give him a watery smile in return.

“I love you too, Changkyun.”

His mouth immediately lands on yours, tongue eagerly tracing the seam of your lips until it’s slipping inside, tasting every inch of you, ravenous and unsatisfied until your knees are shaking. He’s walking you backwards towards the door, tugging at your clothes, and you giggle at his impatience.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, palm pressing against his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. “But listen, if I give you a chance, that means you have to stop stalking my Instagram, you creep. And don’t try to deny it, I see you all over my stories, lurking around.”

He chuckles then, nipping at your bottom lip as his eyes darken. “Please, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,”

Pushing the door open, he guides you inside, mouth working over your neck, arms wrapped around your waist until your back is flattened against the wall.

“Plus, there’s no need, now that I got you,” he confesses, his nose swiping against yours gently before he captures your lips between his own, hitching your legs to drape around his waist as he grinds against you, humming words of praise.

Just like the hundreds of times before, but now as his.

#changkyun x reader #IM x reader #changkyun smut #IM smut #monsta x smut #monsta x scenario #changkyun scenario #I.M. scenario #I.M. smut #I.M. x reader #ksmutclub #plotsofpastel #im changkyun #monsta x #monsta x fanfic #taetaesbaebaepsae #my writing #fic: call you mine #fic: cym

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poptod · 4 years

Text

Leeway (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Sometimes, you just need to feed the person you accidentally embalmed alive a lot of vodka. A LOT.

Notes: so this is a tad strange and i thought it would be fun to write so hello this exists now and im not apologizing for it this time. i do love how easy it is to tell who learned english in cambridge and who learned english from a crazy american though. fluff and humor, gender neutral, only warning is getting sick from drinking too much Word Count: 2.5k

Despite the popularity of the Egyptian exhibit in the museum, there was really only one hallway and one room for it. A hallway filled with smaller artifacts, and in the center of it all, Ahkmenrah's tomb. What with being the only ancient Egyptian in the whole of the museum, he was rather lonely – that made up one of the reasons for the new exhibit, but the main reason was a money grab.

Now, the new exhibit wasn't nearly as royal as Ahk's room. No massive guards, no rooms catered specifically to it, no hieroglyphs surrounding it. In fact it was the tomb of a servant – that's what historians categorized you as after seeing your wooden sarcophagus and the poor wrappings of your mummification. There was nothing but you in your tomb; no dolls, no artifacts, not even any pottery offerings. Ahkmenrah didn't know any of this, though – no, he was just excited to have someone who came from the same era. His thrill stemmed mainly from his fear of forgetting how to speak Egyptian. With you on your way, he could rid of that fear.

He was told of your exhibit about a day before you arrived, and throughout the whole of the waking night he thought of you. Who could you be? Maybe your times were a thousand years apart; Egypt did have a rather long rule, after all. There was also the chance you were from exactly his time, and part of him hoped that was to be.

The next evening he awoke giddy, a grin on his face from the moment he opened his eyes. A few minutes and Larry came to help him out, stripping off the remaining linen before standing tall, gold falling from his body as silk.

"Is the new exhibit here?" He asked immediately, eager to meet you.

"Yeah, this way," Larry said, guiding Ahk out of his room with a chuckle.

A bundle of nerves began to ache in his chest, begging him to hurry his step. He tried his best to keep calm, soon standing in front of an open archway, leading into a room filled with the broken down, dusty artifacts of his previous daily life. Shabti dolls came to life in glass cages, and beside all the shields and various weapons lay a rotted, wooden coffin. At the sight he frowned – there were no inscriptions on the coffin, not even a hint that they might've once been there. Without those inscriptions it was terribly hard to navigate the afterlife, but that wasn't his main problem at the moment.

The biggest issue was that you were rattling against the wood, moaning weakly from your first wake of the dead. Your coffin sat in a large, glass box, and as both Ahk and Larry realized that, Larry dug into his pocket for keys to open the box.

The moment the glass door opened, Ahk crammed himself inside, careful not to step on the bits of pottery as he knelt at your side. Gently he raised the lid, helping you sit up. Together you worked out of your wrappings, which fell to the bottom of the coffin, before the last of it came off, revealing your face.

"Wait a -"

"You!" You shouted, brows furrowed in a rage both Larry and Ahk rarely saw. Jabbing him in the chest with your finger, you glared him out of the box, following him as you stumbled onto the linoleum floor. "You're the guy who killed me!"

"Wait, what?" Larry said, his tone suddenly serious.

"I did not kill -"

"You fucking buried me alive, you son of a bitch! Do you know how painful it is to have all your organs removed for a damned embalming?!" You yelled as your face grew red, filled with the pressure of your anger.

"Okay, wait, wait –" Larry stood inbetween you two, but your eyes never left Ahk's rather terrified face. "First thing's first. How do you know English?"

"You think you guys get to be the first people insane enough to bring me to life? I lived in a sorcerer's home for ten years and he treated me better than you ever did," you said, aiming your venom at Ahk. Again. "I felt safer with him and he took off my arm and resewed it back on!"

"In my defense, I didn't know you were alive, alright?" Ahk tried defending himself, but you wouldn't hear it.

"You fucked up big time, buddy," you seethed, shoving your face right up against Ahk's. "I wasn't the goddamn murderer. The other one was."

"Oh. Oh, no," he said as the color drained from his face. "Shit, you were innocent?"

"Okay can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?!" Larry finally interjected, gaining both of your attentions.

"There was this, um, incident, while I was a prince," Ahk began, reluctant to tell. "A few murders had happened in the city, so the soldiers tracked down who they believed the murderer to be, but they were fighting with someone. Like, really bad. I was with them and there was quite a lot of blood."

"I would've won, too, if you let me," you grumbled bitterly.

"One of them claimed to be a famous poet, and the other one was unemployed. Obviously the murderer, but we couldn't tell the difference between the two," he continued, ignoring your remark. "There was this whole trial to figure out who was who. What – what was your penname again?"

"Siamun," you said.

"Right. Unfortunately, I guess we got the wrong one," he said rather blankly, regret plain on his face.

"And then he threw a spear at my chest, proclaimed me dead despite the fact that I was still breathing, and then they tore out all my goddamn organs," you finished for him, telling 'Larry' the rest of the story Ahk hesitated to mention.

"It wasn't a spear," Ahk said as though it mattered.

"Knife. Sharp pointy thing. I'm still pissed at you," you said, crossing your arms with great force.

Larry looked between the two of you for a moment before speaking.

"I think I know how to make you feel better," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you out of the room.

"I highly doubt that," you said quietly, sending one last seething glare over your shoulder at Ahk before you turned the corner, leaving him alone.

He almost cried – he rarely did, but this time was close. All that excitement for nothing. There was no way you'd be able to hold a conversation with him, which was fair, considering he didn't think he could hold a conversation with someone he wronged so deeply. The worst part was that he was quite the fan of your work, and it had been a long, long time since he'd been able to read or hear your words.

About an hour later he dragged himself to his feet with a weary sigh, slowly shuffling into the main room, where he could already hear music and the shouts of dancers and soccer players (for some reason). At the balcony he overlooked the whole of the crowd, eyes scanning over the jumping crowd till he found you sitting with Larry at the center globe. You had a bottle of some sort in hand, and from what he could tell, you were incredibly intoxicated. A new, sick hope sprouted in his head – maybe you'd be able to tolerate him while drunk. Strange thought, certainly, but not entirely improbable.

So, with that in mind, he headed down the steps, his cape floating down with him till he reached the crowd. Worming through the people, he made his way to stand on the other side of the help center desk.

"What did you do?" Ahk asked Larry, gesturing to you sitting on the office chair, spinning as fast as you could.

"I thought they could use some loosening up," Larry answered with a shrug. Ahk frowned.

"That's... what did you give them?"

"Hmm? Oh, just some vodka the previous night guards stored in Rexy's mouth," he said, nodding pleasantly.

"Isn't vodka ten times more powerful than our beer?"

"I hadn't really thought of that," Larry said with his hands on his hips, looking to you for a moment before returning to Ahk.

Once you stopped propelling yourself, your chair stopped spinning, and your smile quickly dissipated into a pale face as sickness overcame you. With lopsided eyes you tried standing, balancing the bulk of your weight on the desk. You gagged on your own tongue.

"That's no good," Ahk muttered under his breath, circling the desk till he stood beside you, wrapping an arm over your shoulder. "I'll take them to the bathroom."

"I think I'm going to throw up," you slurred, leaning into Ahk.

"Thought so. Let's hurry now," he said as he took you through the crowd, feeling thankful that the bathrooms weren't a floor above you. No, they were just to the side, and soon he was holding your hair as you hurled into the porcelain toilet.

You shivered despite the room being warm, and Ahk recognized it as tremors brought about by pain. He winced when you gagged, nothing but acid coming out as you moaned, white knuckles trying to find purchase on the tile floor.

"You.. what's your name?" You asked weakly, your voice rough from acid staining the back of your throat.

"... Naguib," he said after a moment of thought. He wasn't sure if you would remember his name, but he preferred to stay safe, and took his servant's name.

"You're being.. thank you," you mumbled, immediately gagging again afterwards. Nothing came out.

"Of course," he said softly, moving his hands to rub at your tense shoulders. You hummed, unable to move from your spot without feeling intensely sick.

"You're from Egypt, too, aren't you?" You said, tilting your head onto your arm to meet his eye.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Same time period."

"God, I miss it sometimes. Don't you?" You whispered, barely able to find the energy to keep speaking.

"It can get very lonely. That's why I'm glad you're here," he said with a small smile, making you close your eyes and offer your own soft, barely-there smile. "Do you mind speaking Egyptian with me?"

"Sure," you answered in the language he'd been longing to hear from a mouth other than his own.

"So... what was life like for you back then?" He asked despite knowing of most of your exploits (and accidentally being part of the final one. Death.).

"I was a scribe, didn't work for the King though. Didn't really want to. I liked his son, though. Nice guy except for when he stabbed me," you grumbled, your eyes half lidded. He flinched at your last words.

"What did you write of?"

"The world," you said with a weak smirk. "Poetry. Lots of it."

"Really?" He said, keeping his voice soft to soothe you. "Could you share some?"

"Maybe if I remember what I wrote," you replied with a snort. "Been a whole fuckin' while since then."

Wow, you swear a lot, Ahk found himself thinking blankly, watching you tremble and try to keep yourself even.

"What about the prince?" Ahk asked after a long silence, his words barely there.

"Gods.. um... well, very kind. Got a bit of a stick up his ass, but damn, he was handsome. Pretty scary too, but don't tell him. Any of this," you slurred, once more readying yourself to hurl into the bowl. Ahk quickly moved his hands from your back to your hair, keeping it out of your eyes as you gagged, acid and vodka dripping off your tongue.

Even with you having a rather unpleasant time in the bathroom stall, Ahk felt rather good. You liked him – at least you did at one point, and for him, that meant there was a chance you could forgive him. Yes, embalming you alive was probably not the greatest thing he could've done, but you seemed forgiving enough. With anger formidable and forgiveness imminent, he almost smiled. Almost. And then you hurled again.

In the last hours of the night you started to get better. You could stand with help from Ahk (though you much preferred lying down), and your wits were a little more about you, words still slurred but not quite as unhinged. A few hours previously you stopped throwing up, and Ahk moved you from the bathrooms to McPhee's office. He had a nice couch in there, and Ahk doubted he would mind, considering how McPhee practically revered the living exhibits.

"Feeling better?" He asked, knelt beside you on the cushioned velvet couch.

"A little," you hummed, your voice cracking as you looked to him with tired, baggy eyes.

"We'll have to get you back to your coffin soon. I'll have to go to mine too," he said, stroking your hair. You blinked slowly.

"Why?"

"I'll tell you when you're a bit more coherent," he said with a smile. The edges of your lips turned up, but you were far too weak to form a full smile.

A few minutes later Ahk heard a knock on the closed door, and he excused himself from you with a gentle kiss on your forehead. Opening up the door an inch, he slipped through the gap, coming face to face with Larry.

"They doin' okay?" He asked, hands on his hips.

"Will be, eventually. Don't give them vodka. Ever," Ahk said, earning a hurried agreement.

"Yeah, no, definitely. What's up between you guys though?" He asked with vague hand signals gesturing between the two of them. "Like, you friends? Enemies? I can't tell."

"Currently my name is Naguib and I'm a servant."

"Oh, so not good."

"I didn't say that," Ahk said with a frown. "I asked them about 'the prince' and they actually had a pretty high opinion of me, all things considered, so that's good."

"Honestly I find it hard to believe you actually stabbed them. You don't come across as.. murderous," Larry said, a questioning look on his face.

"You've clearly never seen me watch TV," Ahk said flatly. "I'm a Pharaoh. I'm not sure what you were expecting, but my brother tried to kill me five times and I lost my best friend to banishment. I think I'm allowed a little leeway."

"Yeah, I guess so," Larry said with a sigh, forgetting they were genuinely discussing murder. Murder. "Ready to get them back in the coffin?"

"Right."

The two of them helped you back into your casket, a task that was made infinitely easier by the fact that you passed out while they were conversing. Before placing the wooden lid back on, Ahk leaned in, kissing your forehead one more time. Only then did he reluctantly crawl out of the glass cage, watching Larry lock you up.

"Why do you like them so much?"

"Eh," Ahk shrugged, "they're prolific when they aren't drunk."

"Fair enough."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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halcyon-writings · 3 years

Text

family

requested?: yes (anonymous) //tldr, if alucard had a sibling (the reader, of course) dealing with the loss of family, both living and not

note(s)/warning(s): canonical character death, spoilers babyyyyy, violence and injury, angst it’s rare for anyone in this series to have a good time huh?, also for this being that the reader can literally look however you want, imma say Lisa isn’t white bc I do what I want and it’s my fic :) this is also the most i’ve written in a good while omg, im highkey proud so pls don’t let this flop

Lisa Tepes is dead.

Your mother, is dead.

Killed, burned alive. Gone to ashes.

All because the church had believed she was a witch of sorts. Several thoughts dance in the back of your mind as you gaze upon the pyre. Smoldering from the heat, the flames gone. Your father leaving his message, no, his warning, that he would act in one year.

“A farce that was!” You hear a shout, and you force down the bitter laugh, throat tight and eyes burning. Especially so when you slowly begin to hear continued shouts of agreement, from voices previously silent.

Here your mother was, her final resting place. Burned to ashes for some sick show of power.

And you could do nothing as she was mocked for it.

Your fist clenched at your side, you feel your nails cutting into your skin, but you walk away to return home.

And to say that the castle was no less better was an understatement. Your father was most likely in his quarters.

And when you finally sit down, the weight of your weary finally settling against your soul, do you allow yourself cry. Quiet tears turning to sobs as you muffle your voice with a pillow.

You had failed her. Missing the chance to save your mother, too late to have done anything.

But you pause, noticing the presence at your door, your brothers familiar knocking pattern resounding suddenly through the empty hall.

“Come in,” Your voice is embarrassingly raspy. As you clear your throat, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. But it wouldn’t hide the redness of your eyes.

Adrian says nothing, and a part of you wishes he did. His larger hand takes yours. A comforting squeeze.

You blink again feeling your eyes burn, and you squeeze his hand back.

“Father is...” He trails off, no doubt thinking of what he could say next.

“What he plans on doing, it’s not justice.”

You stare up at him, But it would be deserving. A bitter corner of your mind supplies.

While Adrian had taken after Mother in his demeanor, much more kinder, more welcoming. You were no doubt like Father. Reserved, distrusting, easily prone to grudges if you were wronged in some way.

But you bite your tongue.

“He gave them a year,” You murmur after some time, “But no doubt he’s ready to calling his armies.”

At this Adrian turns alarmed. the warmth from his hand slips away.

“We must stop him!”

You’re still reeling from the events from earlier today, and a part of you wishes to have no part in his attempt to try and stop your father. But then you remember your mother.

Her kindness, regardless of how she was viewed for being different.

And your warily stand anyway.

If only you had more sense. Your father remains eerily silent as he embraces you both. His hold tighter, and while Adrian seemed convinced, you saw the dark look in his eyes.

The year had passed. You weren’t surprised to hear of the bloodshed.

It was naive to expect otherwise. While reluctantly following your brother, you can only stand, frozen as your blood feels like ice in your veins as your remaining family clashes.

“No.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

They don’t hear you.

Glass shatters.

And foolishly enough, you rush forward.

With your brother injured and fleeing, and you yourself were not free from any sort of pain.

Stepping in between the two as they fought ended with a gnarly gash on your shoulder, as you fell to your knees and blood slipping past your fingers. Your father stands in front of you, like a protective pillar as your brother stares in shock, quickly wanting to help you in some way.

And then the fight is over. Your brother is gone too.

The castle is much larger and colder now.

As you’re confined to your room, the wound healing into an angry red, then to a muted and dull scar. For a moment you wished it took longer, your father guilty and you were reminded of times you had been sick when you were younger. While you had not been too keen on the typical children’s books, reading theory on physics and other sciences only seemed fun when he would read to you and you’d ask questions in between passages. (Your voice funny from a stuffy nose led to laughter and a small coughing fit but otherwise it was nice).

But now was not the time to reminisce on the happy childhood.

You know you cannot stay. Ultimately, Adrian had been right. Once you feel as though you can move your arm once again, slowly, you begin pack a small bag. You didn’t want to build up any suspicions, finding some money in your room and whenever you could take a few coins or so from your father that he would not miss.

Extra clothes were folded and put away separately.

And you make your escape on a rainy evening, the uneven droplets helping hide your tracks. But you knew now that your father had brought back Hector and Isaac, new generals to help fight in his war, you had to be weary of the night creatures that would no doubt be sent after you.

Well, you were creative. At times flying in a transformed look, no one would suspect a bat in the dark of night afterall. And it was easier to. find good vantage points that way. But to also avoid any people, you didn’t quite trust yourself to not get into an altercation with a bigot.

You rarely slept longer than necessary, especially not when those dreams were memories or nightmares.

Now that you had learned how to walk, you were a right menace. It was an uphill battle in itself to keep you in one place. You were curious and the world you knew (being your father’s vast castle) was huge. Your childlike curiosity was never let down by your adventures.

You laugh quietly, which sounds like small squeaks as you fly up and hide above the gaudy chandeliers. Your father, giant coat gone, hair tied back and in a plain dress shirt and slacks as he searched for a curious toddler.

Snickers continuing as he paces down the hall. You hop down, landing slowly and feet planting into the ground, knees bent. Before you had down the opposite direction.

The lab usually wasn’t a place you could be allowed in on your own. But having heard that your mother was there, you knew it wouldn’t be a problem! So your little legs carried you along. Until you found the familiar doorway.

Dozens of tubes and mechanisms had you turning your head as you wandered in, your shoes tapping against the marble floor.

“Now what brings you here, sweetling?” The warmth of your mother’s voice has you smiling before you see her. As you run forward and hug her side, clutching her dress in your small fists. “Not causing trouble for your father are you?”

You shake your head grin betraying your word, “Nope! I’m not doing any trouble!”

“And how since when did that happen?” She laughs gently.

“Now.”

Your brother looks up from his own books, waving before returning to work. Your nose crinkles, so much for playing experimenting. But before you can say much, your nearly yelp as you’re brought up into the air by a pair of strong arms.

“I’ve found you, little wanderer.” Your father’s voice carries no heat behind it. Then again, he was always soft hearted for you and your brother. But most of all, your mother.

“I’m not little!” You pout, “I’m big now!”

You’re taken away from your reverie at the snap of a twig.

With your lack of sleep, as you had insisted on traveling more, you were less than surprised to have been snuck up on.

“Peace, my friend,” The old man murmurs. You keep your knife in an iron grip in front of you. Who you’re guessing is his son or grandson, has his hands raised the same way, but no weapon to be seen, magic, oh good. Then again, not like you needed a knife when you could make your nails go into claws and the fangs. Don’t forget the fangs.

“I can’t exactly be peaceful when it’s the middle of the night and suddenly figures in blue robes appear out of now where,” You answer dryly. But seeing as how the others behind the main two have not done or said anything noteworthy, nor were their stances make them look like they could really fight, you lower your weapon slightly.

Clearing your throat, “Although, I shouldn’t be swinging my own weapon around either.”

The old man just smiles gently. And you can’t help but be just slightly comforted.

In the end, the speakers stop for the evening. And the Elder, despite looking like a frail old man, is firm in his decision that you stay and “eat properly.” And like a scolded child, you listen. Food and drink all but pushed into your hands as you’re quickly brought into conversation, the previous confrontation all but forgotten.

And then you perk up when he mentions Gresit.

“So... the sleeping soldier,” You begin, slowly chewing on the sweet bread you had been given. “It was true?”

The Elder nods, “My grandchild and a traveller, they had gone to explore it. Well, the traveller had gone to save my grandchild. I will not hide the fact that I was a bit doubtful. But Belmont had proved himself a man of his word. Although, he does need to drink more water.”

You blink, a look of a surprise clear on your face. Belmont...

Fuck.

“Although I hadn’t expected the legend of the sleeping soldier to be realized so quickly.”

At your inquisitive look, the Elder begins to explain. Of a holy warrior beneath Gresit, who would come to save it’s people in their most dire of hours.

“The pair had come up with a man with long hair, like gold.” You couldn’t help but let out the breath you had been holding. So the Belmont didn’t try to kill him. you could breathe a little easier at that fact.

“Where are they now?” You ask, holding the empty cup in your hands, as you stare down as though waiting for something.

Getting your answer, you stand, adjusting your bag over your shoulders. You wave off the concern in staying, if it had already been several days since the Speakers had left Gresit, then you needed to cover a lot of land to get to your brother.

That is, until you saw the expression on the Elder’s face grow stern, as though he was scolding a child. With a heavier bag, one that the Elder insisted that you take some more things you could eat along the way, in exchange you give the Elder a small trinket you had been using to hide from the monsters of your father’s army, you finally set off. While your worries were not completely settled, your shoulders felt lighter. Metaphorically of course.

Of course, giving away the object that kept you hidden made it a bit more, difficult, when it came to trying to hide and travel at night. Much less even try to stop and rest.

It had barely been two days since you had left the speakers, and already, you had run into some trouble, a beastly creature’s claws barely caught on your sleeve, leaving your arm bare as you shuddered from the chill in the air. You can only sigh mournfully, you really liked that coat. But, better your sleeve than say, you actually getting wounded.

Your nails resemble claws, while your free hand holds the dagger in a steady grip. But being surrounded on all sides, it did not look promising.

Well, you thought mournfully, if you died you could at least see your mother again.

Until you hear the sound of what reminds you of a whistle? And then a sword flying through the air, slicing through the night creatures, giving you a chance to get some distance.

You hear the surprised shout of your name, and look up, to see your brother wide eyed, sword now returned to him, and a man and woman standing at his side.

“Um... hi.”

Much to your relief, the night creatures are easily taken care of.

And as you’re finally able to explain your story, you find yourself relaxing into the extra cloak given to you by the Elder.

“You mean you met the Speakers on your journey?!” A woman, petite with short blonde locks, who you learn is named Sypha, asks, and you notice the way her shoulders sag in relief.

You nod, “Yes. They all were safe.” If her shoulders sagged anymore she’d full on be slouching. You leave out the part of leaving a possibly precious trinket with them, not wanting her to think you cursed them or something.

“So you mean to tell me, Dracula, fucking Dracula, had more than one kid? That he actually had a woman not only give him not just one, but two children?” Is incredulously asked next by the scruffy looking man. Trevor, as your brother says.

You only stare in annoyance, sure your father was about to raise an army to annihilate the human populace but he didn’t used to be that way.

Before you can retort with a scathing remark of your own, Sypha elbows him harshly in the side. And you know it hurts from the way he immediately puts a hand where she hit him, eyes widening slightly. Serves him right.

“And what of...” Adrian- no Alucard as he wishes to be called, asks, near hesitant.

“Father?” You ask, arms crossed, “Same old same old. Planning the same amount of destruction here or there.”

As he looks to the snow covered earth, you roll your eyes, “Did you expect anything different?”

It’s quiet, and neither Sypha nor Trevor speak.

“No.”

You all sat around camp quietly for a while after that.

Your lungs feel like they’re being constricted. Your throat burns as you struggle to breathe, claws digging into your skin like knives. Before you’re thrown backwards, landing harshly against the wall. Books fall from the book case and your weapon clatters noisily from the ground.

You take shallow breaths, barely standing before you’re thrown once more. Curse your father’s stature and supernatural strength. You close your eyes, waiting for another attack and at least hoping to brace yourself for it, but it never came.

Instead, your brother stands in front of you, as he and your father remain in a standstill. Sypha and Trevor’s footsteps are rushing towards you three.

It all continues to move so fast, until he stops noticing the painting of your mother, as she had been holding your brother and then you as a baby, and the next thing you know, your father is staked through the heart. And with wobbly legs, you take your sword, and swing. So falls Dracula. But it felt like no victory.

You sit up with an alarmed look, stopping yourself from shouting.

That was... a dream? You rub your eyes, feeling that your cheeks are wet and you sigh.

When you see a shadow looming over you, the light of the fire giving slight visibility, you freeze. Before noticing it’s your brother and not his companions.

“Sorry,” You say, making sure to not look at him, so that he didn’t see your tears.

Quietly, he places his coat over your shoulders, sitting beside you, wrapping his own blanket loosely around his own shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

You only grip the jacket lapels tighter, shaking slightly as you hiccup, unable to stop yourself from crying again.

He must think it’s because you miss your mother, and you do. But this dream was far different. And you say nothing as he brings you into his arms. Your tears having long since dried when the sun rises moments later. But you find yourself falling asleep as your brother rubs soothing circles on your back, feeling the build up exhaustion finally leaving you.

When you’re awake much later in the day you can’t help but laugh a little when Sypha scolds your brother for being mean enough to make you cry, he didn’t you assure her quick enough, although you’re back to laughing when she then turns around to scold Belmont when he makes another slight comment.

#castlevania netflix x reader #castlevania imagines #castlevania imagine #castlevania netflix imagines #mine

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years

Text

This Night (40s!Bucky Barnes x Hispanic!OFC)

Summary: When she saved a scrawny blond in a back alley, she would never have anticipated the ripple effects it would have. Nor how meeting someone with a pair of baby blue eyes and cocky smirk would draw her in, encouraging her that for one night, to taste revelry like she never had before.

This is my submission for @allaboardthereadingrailroad Marvel Diversity Challenge! My prompt was “a little danger never hurt”.

I am going to admit, I’m super nervous to post this. I’ve never written a person of color before and would be horrified to accidently offend someone. That being said, I also had so much fun writing this piece. I adore 40s Bucky and Steve, so I was excited to finally have the inspiration to write them.

Few notes:

-All translations are via google and what I can remember from university (if any of my Spanish is wrong, please please please someone tell me and i’ll correct it!)

-I threw in some 40s slang for fun, so that will be in italics.

-In the little research I did (again, someone please correct me if I am wrong), in the 40s there were not many Hispanic or Latino people living in NYC yet. So for my OFC and her family, they would very much stand out.

Warnings: a few swear words, some angst, sexual tension, topic of racial discrimination and inequality

Words: 8k (the story kept growing, i’m so sorry)

She clutched the parcel to her chest, trying to avoid the muddy puddles on the sidewalk. Mr. Hendricks would be furious with her if she got any mud on the packaging of the parcel. He always said it reflected his reputation.

Weaving through those walking down the busy Brooklyn sidewalk, she could feel the few glares and inaudible comments following in her wake. She tried to ignore it, knowing was not the first nor last time others judged her for her different skin tone. Though she doubted she would ever get used to it. One of her older brothers would try and cheer her up saying the white folks were jealous since they burned when in the sun too long while Spaniards became more beautiful. Without fail, she would smack him but end up laughing along.

Peeking at the address scrawled in precise handwriting, she surveyed the street names around. A sinking feeling in her gut confirmed her fear- she had somehow gotten lost.

“Mierda.” She hissed, turning around in a circle. Not just to try and relocate her whereabouts but on the off chance her mother happened to be behind her to whack her over the head for swearing.

Not wanting to be run over by a fellow pedestrian, she stepped off the sidewalk into an alley nearby while she tried to get her bearings. She brushed down the front of her workwear, dark blue, princess style dress with its Peter Pan collar, double pockets and pleated skirt. A glance at her tights showed a couple spots of mud she somehow managed to still get on her even though her kitten heels were still mostly clean. A miracle really.

It was only mid-afternoon but Mr. Hendricks hated when she returned late from delivering parcels. He was the best tailor in Brooklyn and practically thrived off that title. He employed her to help keep things organized, the shop looking nice and delivering parcels to their patrons. It was mindless work but that did not bother her. It was a job...and she was lucky to have one. Being from one of the few Hispanic families in the area was not a perk when trying to find work. She knew the only reason she even got this job was she willingly took half the pay he would have given to anyone else, she could sew well, and she was pretty.

A crash at the end of the alley drew her attention behind her. There was some hushed talking followed by another sound of something hitting the ground. Hard.

Logically, she knew she should walk away. She was already lost. Her mother frequently reminded her to not involve herself in other people's business, it would only get her in trouble. The problem was her curiosity was a near palpable thing, driving her forward, along with her independent streak the size of the Upper Bay. So when she heard what sounded like a smack and another crash, her feet started moving without a second thought.

She darted around a half brick wall to find herself at an "L" intersection. And at the end of both alleys, stood a tall man with a face like a bulldog and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, fists at his side. Below him lay a much smaller, blond man who was sprawled out on the dirty ground. The smaller man groaned, rubbing a hand on his jaw. He rolled onto his side, then slowly and painfully rose back onto his feet, his own fists in front of him in a poor imitation of a boxer.

"You think you somethin' special, huh?" The larger man jeered, a nasty smirk on his face. He leaned on his back foot, preparing to throw another punch.

The smaller man raised his fists but made no other move, prepared to take the hit and most likely go back down.

So, she decided to do something stupid.

"BILL!!" She cried out, her voice echoing off the brick walls of the alleys.

Both men froze, turning to look at her.

Tucking the parcel under her arm, she jogged over to the smaller man, uncaring now of the muddy puddles. "There you are, Bill. I've been so worried. You promised to show me where Mrs. Wilcox lives. I tried to find her myself but I got so lost." Ignoring the quizzical look from the blond man, she stood between the two men, meeting the eyes of the larger one. She twirled a strand of her long, black hair around her finger, nerves getting to her but she pressed on. "I'm so sorry for whatever trouble he has caused you. He won't bother you again. We have to go now; our boss will dock our wages if we aren't back soon."

The man trailed his eyes over her as if looking for a lie tattooed on her skin or dress. Finding nothing of interest, he stared hard at his victim for a long moment. She found herself holding her breath, silently praying her ruse worked.

Finally, he rolled his shoulders and unclenched his fists, his thick jowls still tense. "Keep ‘im away from me or next time his ass will end up in the hospital."

Slowly, she released her breath as she watched the bulldog of a man turn on his heel and stomp away, back down the alley and onto the main sidewalk.

"Are you hurt?" She asked, looking over the smaller man. As he dusted off his brown trousers and tan jacket, she was surprised to realize he stood about her height, and probably about her age, in the young twenties. If her guessing was any good.

He rubbed his jaw again and winced where an impressive bruise was already growing. "I've had worse."

She could not help but smile at his nonchalance. His bright blue eyes met her own honey brown. A timid smile echoed hers, his face so open and expressive. Something about the man she found endearing already. Maybe defending him was not such a stupid action.

"All that stuff you said, about lookin' for me and gettin' lost…"

She huffed a laugh. "I am actually lost. I'm trying to find this address here." She showed him the scrap of paper with the address scribbled on it.

It took only a glance before he handed the paper back with a smile. "You're not too far. Only three streets away….I... I can take you there if you like."

"Oh, I'd hate to impose on you."

"No, it's really fine. Seems you saved me from...well…" He shrugged, sticking his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket.

"And... you...don't mind, you know, being seen with me?"

"No, why?" Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed slightly, he stared at her like that was the strangest question.

It was in that moment she knew, whoever this scrawny man was- he was a good man. The difference in their ethnicity made no difference to him. He was a rarity in her experience with most New Yorkers.

Even though it was 1940 and this was supposed to be a land of equal opportunity.

It was not.

With a shrug and momentarily, awkward silence as they both thought about their own answers to his question, they fell into step with one another as they headed back out of the alley.

"So, what's your name? Or is it actually Bill?" She spoke up once they hit the sidewalk.

"Do I look like a Bill?"

She squinted her eyes then shook her head giggling. "No, you don't."

"It's Steve…. Steve Rogers."

"It's nice to meet you, Steve."

He directed them down another street. Their shoulders brushed occasionally as they walked, due more to their need to maneuver around puddles and other pedestrians than any sense of intimacy. "You gonna tell me your name or do I have to make one up for you?"

"Oh! Sorry. It's Elana Morales-Díaz. So, what caused the fight?"

The tips of his ears and cheeks turned pink as he ducked his head. "He, um, we...we had a disagreement."

"Obviously. I would hate to know you're friends and beat each other up for fun."

"My best friend is a boxer. He's tryin’ to teach me some moves…. does that count as beating each other up?"

She pretended to think about it. "I may let that one slide but it sounds like you might need some new friends."

"Yeah," he chuckled and peeked over at her. "Know of any openings?"

"I just might."

They stood at an intersection waiting to cross the street when they heard a shout from further down the road. Neither paid much attention initially until the shout repeated itself.

"STEVE!"

The blond looked down the road, a smile on his lips. He waved and tugged on Elana to move away from the curb. She followed along, surprised since he told her they needed to cross.

A man glided through the pedestrians easily, a few lingering looks thrown his way by some of the women. When he noticed her standing next to Steve, his eyes widened for a brief moment before a lazy smirk appeared on his face and his strut became more pronounced. With boxing gloves dangling over his shoulder, his white shirt and black trousers, he looked like he just walked out of a gym. Especially with the way his dark brown hair ruffled in the breeze, a few strands sticking up like he had run his hands through it a few times.

"I leave you for one afternoon and I come back to find you with the prettiest gal in all of New York."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You're always at the gym now."

The man put Steve in a teasing headlock. Only after a flirtatious wink at her, he released the smaller man. "So, you gonna introduce me to this wolfess, Steve?"

"Ah, right. Elana, this is my best friend, Bucky Barnes. Buck, this is Elana."

"Nice to meet you." She said, a small smile at their interactions. It reminded her of her brothers.

The man -Bucky- reached over and took her hand but instead of shaking it, pressed a kiss to her knuckles, maintaining eye contact the whole time. "Pleasure is mine."

Oh, he was a charmer. The kind her mother warned her about. Then again, her father had the same devilish charisma and Elana liked to remind her mother of that. To which her mother would laugh and say that's why she warned her daughter of those men, she knew from experience. With just a wink and kiss, she would fall madly in love, leave her home and give him five babies before she even knew it. It was always after this statement often said loudly and with feigned annoyance that Elana's father would wrap his arms around his wife, lovingly kiss her temple and remind her how long he had to chase her before she even agreed to go on a date with him.

"So how do you guys know each other?" Bucky asked, those blue eyes bouncing between the two of them.

Steve coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. It was then Bucky finally seemed to notice the slowly darkening bruise on Steve's jaw.

"Steve!" He grabbed his friend's face and glanced over him, concern etched in his movements and expression. "What happened this time, punk?"

"Nothin'...just a disagreement. I had 'im on the ropes."

He dropped his hand, running it through his brunet hair. "You gotta stop pickin’ fights, one of these days…" The implications hung heavily in the air.

"Ah, Steve…" When he looked over at her, she nodded toward the parcel still in her arms.

"Oh right! Sorry. Buck, I gotta take her to drop somethin' off."

Bucky shrugged. "Lead the way, punk."

"Jerk."

The three of them quickly crossed the street. Steve, and soon Bucky when he understood what was going on, pointed out markers for her in case she got lost again. In a short time, they arrived at the house, one of the nicer ones in Brooklyn. The boys waited on the sidewalk as Elana walked up to the front door and handed the parcel over with the man's tailored suit.

"Where you off to now, doll?" Bucky asked when she approached them.

"Oh, I need to get back to the shop. Mr. Hendricks will most likely be upset with how late I am anyway."

"The tailorin’ shop near Prospect Park?"

"Yeah." She played with a strand of her hair, trying to hide her nerves.

"What a coincidence. We were headed that way ourselves, right, Steve?"

"What?" Steve looked at Bucky, head tilted in confusion. Bucky cuffed him in the back of the head. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. Um, gonna take a nice walk in the park."

Elana could not help but giggle at the two. With Bucky looking skyward like he was silently praying for patience to deal with his best friend; meanwhile Steve rubbed the back of his head and glared at his best friend. Although she just met them and hardly knew them, she found herself enjoying their presence. Friends were not something she had in great supply...or any supply really.

Plus, if she was being honest with herself, she found her gaze drifting to the tall, charming brunet more times than she cared to admit. The butterflies in her stomach did not help the situation. She knew it was foolish. He was attractive and knew it. But when he turned those baby blues on her and winked, she could not help but be drawn to him, like a moth to the flame.

"How come we ain't seen you round before? I know I'd remember a dame as beautiful as you round Brooklyn." Bucky said on her left side while Steve walked on her right. Neither one crowded her space. Sometimes one would touch a hand to her back to direct her steps or hold her elbow when she jumped a puddle. It was sweet instead of condescending.

She shrugged. "I recently got the job at the tailor shop and I live in Queens."

They both winced making her laugh. She would never understand this animosity the boroughs had with each other.

"Well that explains a lot." Steve muttered.

"Hey!" She nudged the blond with her shoulder as she muttered. "Me gusta Queens. Ustedes dos están celosos."

"What language is that?" Steve asked, curiosity evident.

"Spanish."

"Is that why you have an accent?"

She nodded, unable to meet their gazes as she answered. "My family moved here from Spain when I was six." Although she had grown up here in New York City, gone to school just like the other kids, she still maintained a slight accent to her words, different from the stereotypical New Yorker's accent.

"Say somethin’ else." Bucky smiled down at her.

She laughed. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Anythin’."

"El cielo es azul. Me duelen los pies con estos tacones. Me he reído más con ustedes dos que en semanas".

Bucky had almost a dazed look on his face. "That's beautiful."

"You have no idea what I said."

"Doesn't matter." The brunet stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Steve can talk in Irish."

"Buck…"

"What?"

"I mean, a little." He rubbed the back of his neck. "My ma came from Ireland."

Bucky snorted. "You wrote a poem for a girl in the second grade in Irish and read it to her on the playground. I'd say that's more than a little."

Steve's face was red and jaw dropped as he stared at his friend. "How...how...how do you know that?" He sputtered. "We weren't even friends yet."

Bucky winked at Elana as he answered. "Gotta be friends with the right people."

The three of them walked back, talking and laughing. Well it was mostly the boys talking and teasing one another but she enjoyed just listening to their banter. Occasionally they would direct a question to her or she would throw out a remark that had them laughing.

She guided them to the back alley of the street front shops. Mr. Hendricks disliked her walking through the front unless she had her work apron on and clean shoes.

"Well thank you for helping me and walking me back."

"It's not a big deal." Steve said.

"We'll see you round, yeah? I'd hate to just meet a gorgeous dame like you then never see her again." Bucky threw a wink at her, adjusting the boxing gloves still over his shoulder.

She opened her mouth to tease them then stopped. She truly hoped this was not the last time she saw these two. In a spur of the moment decision, she stepped closer to say goodbye. She pressed her cheeks to Steve's first, giving the traditional cheek kiss. She did the same to Bucky, though she had to rise on her toes to reach his face, and she suspected he bent over slightly.

"Hasta luego, mis amigos."

"What was that, doll?"

She looked from Bucky's smirk to Steve's red face and back. "A traditional goodbye."

"Mmm…I could get used to that." The boxer teased, nudging his friend who refused to meet her eyes now.

She smiled and started to open the back door when Bucky's hand grabbed her forearm, stalling her movements.

"Hey, wait." Those baby blue eyes met her honey brown ones. "It's Friday night. We usually go to the Stork Club for drinks and dancin’. Come with us."

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Come on. It'll be great. If it helps, we'll pick you up from your house."

She could not help the laugh that slipped out at the thought. "You'd come to Queens... to get me?"

"It might break my heart to leave my beloved Brooklyn but I'd do it for you, doll."

"Honestly it'd be dangerous for you to come to my house."

"A little danger never hurt." He brushed some of her hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

He was trouble, complete trouble for her...and she knew it. But the longer he stared at her with those pleading eyes and hand now at the nape of her neck, she could feel her resolve crumbling. "I have three brothers and a protective father."

"They can't be that bad… Come on, please? Steve, help me out!"

Steve just laughed, raising his hands in surrender.

She bit the inside of her cheek thinking about it. Her brother Mateo owed her for when she covered for him when he almost got caught smoking cigarettes behind the apartment building. Tonight, her parents were supposed to visit her eldest brother and his new wife in the Bronx.

"Ok…" She whispered.

"Yeah?" A beaming grin spread over his face.

"Ok...I'll meet you there though."

"Yes!" Bucky bent over and kissed her cheek loudly. "You won't regret it! Nine o'clock!"

"Nueve. Estaré allí."

"I still don't know what you said, doll, but I love it."

She laughed, pushing him away from her. "Go! Before I'm even more late."

Before they were three steps away, she ducked inside the back of the shop. Hopefully she was able to slip in unnoticed. The shop should be closing soon so Mr. Hendricks would be in his little office room.

She leaned against the back door, hands pressed against her cheeks to will away the warmth in them. Thankfully with her brown skin, the blush would be harder to notice. As she stood there, the realization of what she just agreed to finally hit her. An icy fist landed in her gut, drowning the blush away. She had never been to a club before. She had no idea what to wear...or how to act. How was she even going to get there?

Underneath the fear though was a determination to go. Why couldn't she have fun for one night, like other young women she regularly saw and envied. Both of those Brooklyn boys seemed nice. Thinking about them brought the flush back to her skin, especially when she thought of the kiss on the cheek from Bucky. He was trouble and fun and charming and devilish and… and she wanted to spend more time with him. And Steve, the sweet, kind, funny guy that he was. She liked them both. But when thinking about those baby blue eyes, insufferable smirk and broad shoulders...her heartbeat sped up and butterflies erupted in her belly.

"Oh Dios, ¿qué voy a hacer?" She whispered to herself.

*****

Just after nine o'clock, Elana climbed out of the taxi. She stared up at the sign that brightly screamed ‘Stork Club’. So many people milled about, either walking into the club or chatting, waiting for others in their group. A couple people already looked like they had been hitting the bottles for some time, if the rambunctious yelling and obnoxious laughter said anything. The atmosphere was loud and vibrant with an air of debauchery...and she had not even stepped foot in the door.

"Oh Dios, ¿por qué estoy aquí? Estúpido. Tan estúpido. Debería irme. Ni siquiera se darán cuenta." She murmured to herself, her hands wringing the strap on her clutch. Actually, it was not even hers. She "borrowed" it from her mother's closet and prayed that she could return it before her mother noticed.

"Elana!"

At the call of her name, she turned around to see Bucky and Steve crossing the street, dodging a car that decided they were taking too long.

"You made it!" Bucky exclaimed, bubbling with excitement. He scanned her over, giving a low whistle. "Damn, doll, you look beautiful."

"Gracias." She smoothed down her floral-patterned tea dress that reached mid-calf, her kitten heels still on from earlier. Her raven hair hung loosely down her back, unstyled in the typical curls that most women wore. There had been no time to try one of those hair styles and not bring attention to herself before she snuck out. Just to make her even more self-conscious, the cherry red lipstick she wore felt heavy on her lips. Something she only wore on rare occasions. "You fellas clean up nicely."

Checking over them, they each wore nice suits. Though Steve's looked a size or two too large and the prominent bruise on his cheek ruined the look a bit. Bucky was practically sinful in his suit, showing off his broad shoulders and strong legs, his hair slicked back. Improper thoughts flooded her mind and a heat warmed her cheeks. She had a feeling she would need to go to confession tomorrow. That was tomorrow’s worry though, tonight was about fun.

"Ready to have the time of your life?" Bucky asked, excitement practically bubbled under his skin.

"That's a high standard."

"Guess I better not disappoint. C'mon!" He grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the crowded, open door. In her sudden fear, she reached back and snagged Steve's hand, dragging him along. She would never admit it but having both of them on either side of her made her feel better.

There were several different calls for Bucky, vying for his attention. He just waved or yelled something back but kept her hand in his, pulling them through. She noticed more than one disappointed female face when Bucky passed them. It churned something in her stomach which she tried to ignore.

When they finally entered the dance hall, she froze. It was nothing like she imagined and so much better. At the far end was a stage with a large band playing an upbeat song that made her bounce on her toes without realizing it. A large bar area was set up, packed with people already looking for something to wet their throats. Booths and tables lined the walls. Already the hardwood, dance floor looked packed with couples jiving. Mirrors and photographs hung on the walls making the place feel bigger even when it was so crowded. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat and a youthful zeal she had never experienced.

It was intoxicating and nerve-wracking. She could not wait to join in.

The next thing she noticed when she glanced at all the people...she was the only non-white person there.

"Let's get a table." Bucky tugged them along towards an open booth on the right side of the dance floor.

She slid in on one side while Steve scooted in on the other. Bucky stood at the end, grinning ear to ear as he seemed to quickly survey the place.

"Right." He tossed his suit jacket on the seat next to her then clapped his hands, the sound muffled by the volume from the band nearby. "What kinda drink would you like?"

"Ah, vino?"

He nodded and waltzed towards the bar, throwing an arm around the shoulder of one of the men standing there waiting.

She turned back to the blond. "You're not drinking?"

"Nah, too many health issues to make it worth it."

She hummed and took note of Steve's fidgeting. "Is this your first time too?"

He chuckled. "No. I just don't...well, this isn't where I'd prefer to be on a Friday night...but don't tell Bucky... though he probably knows."

"What would you rather be doing?"

"Drawin’ or paintin’, maybe playin’ cards but I'm terrible at them."

"You're an artist?" The realization warmed her heart. This scrawny man with a heart too big for his body and kindness an invisible cloak around him. It made sense somehow. He could look past the ugly and see beauty and somehow capture it.

"I don't know if I'd say that...I just enjoy it. It's usually what I end up doin’ when I come here. Doodlin’ on a napkin while Buck dances with every girl he can."

Her stomach dropped while hearing that, which was stupid. So stupid. She swallowed thickly, hoping Steve did not notice, before she spoke again to distract herself. "Well if you doodle something tonight, can I see it after?"

"If you like."

Bucky appeared a minute later with a foamy glass of beer and a glass of red wine. Carefully, he placed them both on the table. "Ready to cut a rug?" He asked, looking at her expectedly.

"Um, I don't...I've never danced like this before." She hesitantly admitted. Steve gave her a sympathetic smile like he understood.

"Don't matter. I bet you're a swell dancer." He held out his hand for her. When she did not immediately accept his hand, he wiggled his fingers. "C'mon, ain't that hard. I'll teach you."

With a sigh, she took his hand, his smile beaming as he tugged her out of the booth. She could not help but smile back at his sheer enthusiasm. It was contagious.

He led her off to the side of the dance floor. Putting one hand on her lower back and taking the other in his hand, he began demonstrating the steps. Her eyes stayed glued to his feet while he moved, willing her brain to understand and not make a fool of her.

"You got this, doll. Told you, you're a natural. Just follow my movement, let me lead."

So she did and before she knew it, they were flying around the dance floor.

Bucky was an amazing dancer and it showed in how he effortlessly led her. A couple times she stumbled or stepped on his toes but he would just grin and encourage her to keep going. The faces of those around them blurred. The music seemed to sink into her blood and with every beat of the drum or clap of the hands from the band, her heartbeat echoed it. It was intoxicating and she had not even had a sip of alcohol. Now she understood why people flocked to these dance halls. There was something freeing in them, losing yourself to the music and movements. For a short time, you could ignore the outside world and all its trials. Here, you could be free.

Eventually she begged a break, practically panting from the several songs they danced through. The brightness in her eyes and smile though showed how much fun she was having. Still holding hands, they weaved through the crowd back to their booth where Steve sat with a napkin in front of him, pencil in hand and eyes focused downward. She slid into the booth first, Bucky right behind her.

"Have fun?" Steve asked, eyes bouncing between the two before him.

"I can't breathe." She giggled out, hand pressed to her chest. Her lungs struggled to fill up properly but instead of installing fear into her, it only made her laugh.

Bucky took a long sip of his beer and slung his arm behind Elana, on the back of the booth. "Told you, you'd have fun. You're a great dancer."

"Only cause I had a great teacher." Taking a sip of her wine, she focused on the quiet artist. "Did you draw something, Steve?"

"Yeah, just a little sketch."

"Can I see it?"

He slid the napkin over to her, nerves obvious. Giving him a small, reassuring smile, she flipped the napkin over and felt her heart stop and jaw drop. The pencil sketch was of Bucky and her dancing. His mouth was next to her ear, whispering instructions or flirtatious comments, his hand on her lower back. Her gaze was on his chest but the brilliant smile on her lips gave her away. The sketch was so realistic, it was astounding. It completely captured Bucky's confidence and her nervousness but somehow the opposite emotions only added to the image, bringing a sense of balance and trust between the two dancing partners.

"Steve, esto es…. hermoso…. increíble." She breathed out, never taking her eyes off the napkin. When she finally looked up to see him blushing and fiddling with the pencil, she smiled.

Bucky had been leaning against her so he could see the sketch also. "That might be your best one yet, pal."

"Thanks, guys. S'nothing."

"May I keep it?" She softly asked, eyes tracing the delicate lines and shading.

The embarrassed blond flapped a hand at her. "Course. It was for you if you wanted it anyway."

Silently, she reached across and squeezed Steve's hand, unable to convey all the emotions she was feeling. "There's one thing you got wrong."

"What's that?"

"I'm not that pretty."

Both Steve and Bucky chuckled.

"Elana," Bucky started, gazing down at her. "He drew you like-"

"Bucky!" A silky voice interrupted. A young woman stood at the end of their booth. Her blonde hair in perfect curls, bright red lipstick matched the equally bright red dress she wore. Her eyes zeroed in on the handsome brunet at the table, ignoring the other two patrons like they were just wallpaper. "Wanna dance?"

The sun-kissed woman could feel Bucky's hesitation. Nudging him gently in the ribs, she nodded towards the interloper. "Go. Have fun. I still need to catch my breath."

With a nod, he slipped out of the booth and followed the beautiful woman onto the dance floor. The two easily fell into step like they had done this a million times, each movement flawless and smiles on both of their faces.

She turned back to Steve, ignoring the churning in her gut. "What's your favorite thing to draw?"

They talked for a few minutes about art classes he had taken and the few commissioned pieces he had done for local businesses. The passion he spoke with about art, hands flapping and eyes alight, it was impossible not to join in his enthusiasm.

The presence of someone standing at the end of the table drew their attention away from the quick sketch of a monkey Steve had drawn on another napkin. This young woman had a haughty expression on her otherwise pretty face, glaring down her nose at Elana.

"You shouldn't be here." She stated, venom lacing every word. Hands on her curvy hips, the gold stitching in her emerald dress catching the light from above.

"Ruby, we-"

"No one is talkin’ to you, Steve." She barked then continued glaring at Elana. "I bet you're a real floozy, comin’ in here lookin’ like that. Well news flash, no one wants you or your kind here."

Tears stung in Elana’s eyes, threatening to fall. She knew this would happen. It always happened. There was always someone to remind her she was not one of them, even if her own eyes could see it. She had hoped tonight would be different. That for once, she could fit in.

"I want her here. She's my date."

The lady -Ruby- spun on her heel so quick, her dress flared out. "Bucky," she crooned, her voice sugary-sweet, so different than a moment ago. "You're lookin' like a real Fred Astaire out there tonight. Let's go-"

Bucky did not even look her way as he slid back onto the bench, eyes focused on Elana. "You alright there, doll?"

She nodded numbly, staring at the table. Twirling a strand of hair absent-mindedly around her finger, she tried to force the tears from falling. It was not even the worst insult she had heard hurled at her, but it still cut her to the quick. Every time.

"Why don't we head out, yeah? Steve there looks like he's gettin' a little warm and the music ain't so good tonight." Bucky said gently.

She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

"Bucky, stay…" Ruby tried one last time but he leveled a glare at her that made her take a step back.

"Take a powder, Ruby, I ain't interested."

Bucky wrapped his hand around Elana's, entwining their fingers as he slid out of the booth with her right behind him. Without even a backwards glance, he led the three of them out of the dance hall. Elana kept her head down the whole time, unable to meet anyone's eyes for fear of what she would see.

The night air was blissfully cool after the heat of the dance hall. It kissed her skin as if trying to help calm her down. At this point, the street was not as busy, everyone mostly inside now. Only a few pedestrians and cars interrupted the quiet scene.

"Elana, I'm so sorry."

"Debería irme. No debería haber venido. Soy tan estúpida." She muttered to herself, not even hearing Bucky's statement. It was a foolish idea to come out. For so long she had tried to fit in, especially as a child. Her mother always told her to be herself and embrace her difference. That was easier said than done. Tonight felt like a taste of it when she was on the dance floor. What things could have been like if everyone was accepted. If where she was from did not matter. She had been so happy dancing with Bucky, this handsome devil who treated her like she was special, holding her hand in front of everyone. Sure, Steve said he danced with a lot of girls but for tonight, she was someone while on his arm. She was someone special.

And oh, did she love the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers. Him holding her close as they danced, his warm breath hitting her neck just right. He was trouble, through and through. Her mother would call him a Casanova and tell her to run the other way. Yet she did not want to. He drew something out of her. An almost recklessness. A desire for more. More in life. To experience life with a passion. Both this new feeling and Bucky’s presence were addicting...and she found herself unable to turn away. At least not for tonight. She wanted to revel in it tonight.

It was not until a hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head up to meet a pair of worried baby blue eyes that she was jolted from her internal spiral.

"Hey, hey. I have no idea what you're sayin' but it don't sound good. Why don't we walk for a bit, mmm? The night's still young."

Wordlessly, she followed. It was then she noticed Bucky was still holding her hand, palms flat against one another's. That realization drew a small smile on her lips. On her other side walked Steve, hands in his pockets but a genuine smile on his face when he caught her eye. Even after all this, these two Brooklyn boys wanted to be with her. With that in mind, she shoved her despair and pain away. Let tomorrow bring what worries that came with it. Tonight she wanted to be reckless without fear of the consequences. Tonight was supposed to be fun.

"Can't believe Ruby would say that. Always thought she was a nice dame." The brunet mused, slipping his suit jacket back on before taking Elana's hand once again.

"She only showed what she wanted you to see, Buck."

"Dance with a girl a couple times and she thinks you owe her or somethin'."

The blond quirked an eyebrow at his friend. "Was it only dancin'?"

"What you gettin' at, Rogers?"

"You ditched some other girl for her once before."

His head swiveled to stare at the smaller man in shock. "I did?"

Elana spoke up. "Sounds like you have quite the selection of dance partners to choose from."

Steve snorted. "Guy has been doll-dizzy since he was twelve."

"What can I say? I appreciate fine art." Bucky said with a self-satisfied grin.

"Don't usually lock lips with paintings or statues…"

"You know what, Rogers!"

Elana laughed as Bucky let go of her hand to race around her and put Steve in a headlock. The two pretended to box for a couple minutes, grins on both their faces. When finished, the champion boxer slid up to her, a rakish smile teasing his lips as he claimed her hand back.

"Well if those gals are fine art, you sweetheart, are a masterpiece." He twirled her around once, making her dress flare out around her legs. "Have I told you yet how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Yes, Bucky."

"Good, I'd hate for you to forget." He winked and the trio started walking again.

"Oh, here." Steve suddenly said, fishing something out of his pocket. He held out his hand almost shyly.

She took the offered item to see it was the napkin with the sketch on it. "Oh, Steve. Muchas gracias." She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a red stain behind. "Oops."

"Here." Bucky tossed over a handkerchief to Steve.

She glanced at the napkin one more time before reverently placing it in her clutch. She already knew where she was going to put this in her room so she would always remember this night.

"Oh drat." Steve said after glancing at his watch. "It's almost eleven. I have class early tomorrow."

"Go on, punk. I'll look after her."

Elana hugged Steve and was thrilled when he squeezed her back just as tightly. "I'm so happy to have met you."

"This isn't goodbye, right?"

"I hope not. You have more artwork to show me."

He blushed yet nodded before giving Bucky a quick hug.

"Night, Steve."

"Night, jerk."

Together, they watched Steve walk down the sidewalk, wave back at them then disappear down the next street.

"Wanna keep walkin'?"

She nodded. She knew she should go home. It was getting late and she still had to get back to Queens. Yet walking side by side with this man whom she had only met several hours ago, she found the idea abhorrent. Glancing up at the night sky, only a couple of the stars were visible through the smoke, clouds and street lamps. They were lovely though, a reminder that there were greater things out there, one just had to look for them. At least, that is what her father always said.

"Hey," Bucky's voice pulled her attention back, "I never got to say it earlier but thanks...for havin’ Steve's back earlier today. Punk doesn't know when to quit."

"I'm glad he got in that fight...is that odd? If he didn't, I wouldn’t have met either one of you."

"Alright, this ONE time I'm glad he got in a fight. Though, we probably would have ran into each other eventually."

They walked in comfortable silence for a couple minutes. Two cars passed them separately and only a handful of people walked their way. Otherwise it almost felt like they were alone. It was peaceful, still holding hands and wandering the streets of Brooklyn.

"Y'know, I was kinda hopin' we'd get at least one slow song at the dance hall."

"Me too." She confessed.

"Well, we should!" An idea sparked in his eyes. "Wait here." He moved over to one of the parked cars near them. He tried to open it but it was locked so he moved to the next one. This one opened without hesitation and he slid in. The whole time Elana switched between watching Bucky and scanning the streets for someone to yell at them. What was he thinking? Suddenly music came on, drifting from the radio through the open passenger door.

Bucky stood there, leaning against the car with the biggest grin on his smug face. "Who needs a dance hall?"

She laughed, understanding what he had done. "We’re going to get in trouble."

"No, we ain't. C'mon."

"Oh, Dios mío, yes we are!"

"Dance with me." He cooed, standing before her looking like an Adonis.

With that lazy smirk and enthralling blue eyes staring down at her, refusal was not an option. The words died on her tongue as she stared up at him. The music was slow, a singer crooning about his love. The moment felt like something from a fairytale story her mother would tell her as a little girl. She knew she should go home. Stop this heat that seared through her when she found herself caught in his eyes. Stop the butterflies in her stomach when around him. Stop the way she melted under his touch, his hands always so gentle.

But she wanted this. Right now. To pretend this was her reality. To dance with her prince under the stars. That love did not care about the differences in their skin tones. For when the sun rose and this dream faded, reality would seep back in. Plus, he was a charmer. Doll-dizzy. She would not keep his attention past this night.

For now though, she could pretend. Enjoy the night in a way she never had before.

He placed her hands behind his neck and his on her hips. Standing there under the streetlight and distant starlight, they danced, swaying back and forth. Her head landed on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath it. So steady and soothing. The world faded away around them, the only things that mattered was their dancing and the music. It wrapped around them like a warm, thick blanket. Enveloping them in a sense of security and vitality. One of his hands slowly traced her spine leaving a trail of fire behind. His cheek pressed against the top of her head. She felt safe...and wanted. A heady feeling that she could sense herself beginning to crave even more. Her hand tangled in the hair, her fingers lightly scraping the back of his neck.

"Say something in Spanish." He whispered, his lips against her scalp.

"Gracias por esto ... todo esto. Ha sido la mejor noche de mi vida".

She looked back up at him, hoping to convey without words what she said. As she lifted her head up, their eyes locked. Tension filled the empty space around them, pulling them closer. For a split second, his eyes drifted to her lips and back up. Her heartbeat began racing anew. Slowly, as if waiting for her to turn away, his head tilted towards hers, his hands gripping her just a little tighter. His breath fanned across her face, warming her inside and out. She swore her heart was going to beat out of her chest. His nose brushed hers, an almost timid action that drew a smile from her. He chuckled silently then somehow pulled her even closer. She closed her eyes, a gasp escaping her when she felt the faintest touch of his lips on the corner of her mouth.

"Hey! Hey, you kids! What ya doin’ with my car?!"

All the tension evaporated like rain drops under the scorching sun.

"Shit...c'mon!" He grabbed her hand and started running away. Holding on tight, she ran next to him, as well as she could while wearing heels. The yells of the car's owner soon a distant sound behind them.

Finally, they stopped two streets later. He let go of her hand, running his hands through his hair and pacing. She leaned against the brick wall, hand over her mouth, giggles spilling forth between gasps of air. Never in her life had she done anything like this. She closed her eyes as the giggles turned into full-body laughter. One hand covered her mouth and the other wrapped around her own waist to try and contain the sound. This night was nothing like she expected but it only seemed to get better and better. This newfound revelry of youthful zeal, this silly recklessness...she wanted more and more of it.

When the laughter dissolved into small chuckles, she wiped her eyes as she opened them, hoping her make-up had not smudged too much. Not that she particularly cared in the moment.

What she saw standing before her killed the laughter on her tongue.

Bucky stood just at arm's length, staring at her like she was the stars in the heavens.

In a single step, he crowded her against the brick wall. "Elana…" he growled, voice low, and it might have been the most exhilarating sound she had ever heard. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, as he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle, their lips just pressed together. A soft pressure that made her melt into his arms.

He leaned back to press his forehead against hers. His breath just as shaky as hers, both still breathing hard from their run.

"That was my first kiss." She blurted out, immediately regretting the words once they escaped.

He leaned back to look her in the eye. "Really?"

She shrugged nervously. "Not many fellas lining up to kiss a girl like me."

"Their loss, doll face." He smirked, running a thumb over her bottom lip. "May I have the honor of your second kiss ever?"

She giggled and nodded.

This time when their lips touched, it felt like more. The first was like licking the spoon used after mixing cookie dough. A taste of what was to come. The second kiss was eating warm cookies right out of the oven and practically ascending to heaven.

His lips slanted over hers perfectly, as if they were formed just for her. Their mouths moved in tandem, picking up speed. No longer were the kisses sweet and gentle. His tongue traced her bottom lip and she willingly opened her mouth to receive it like a present. These kisses were all-consuming and fiery. It was as if his touch seared into her soul, leaving an imprint there for all eternity.

She knew right away when she met Bucky Barnes, he was trouble. He was the kind of man her mother warned her about. The kind to sweep her off her feet and make her forget the world around her. He was kind, charming and so full of life. Yet she knew even as she was wrapped in his arms, lips pressed against his, that there was one truth that would haunt her. Even if she ignored it for now. That truth would never leave. So she overlooked it, sinking deeper and deeper into his kisses and embrace. Drowning herself in him. With her back pressed against the wall, her hands tangled in his hair and mouths devouring one another, she had never felt more alive.

Tonight, she would choose the fire he poured into her. Tonight, she wanted to enjoy life without fear. Tonight, she wanted to pretend that this night would never end. To thrive in this feeling of passion and life, that nothing could go wrong.

For the truth was one day, he was bound to break her heart.

#marveldiversitychallenge #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky/ofc #bucky fic #Steve Rogers #Hispanic!ofc #POC character #40s!steve #40s!bucky #40s!#1940s #mzwrites

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weasleypogues · 4 years

Text

caught (j.b.r)

so thankfully someone pointed out to me that i completely misread a request and mixed it up so here is a sistermaybank x john b!! im so sorry to whoever requested it but i hope u enjoy this one!!

i kinda got a little carried away and made this very long so bear with me

master list.

having jj maybank as your older brother came with everything you would expect. you did crazy shit with no repercussions or care. but there were other times where you would balance each other out because, at one point, someone had to use their senses and be the rational sibling. you two shared so much in your life that it was difficult to even think of doing things without him by your side.

however, one of those things you did without him was to date his best friend, john b. but hey, it’s not like you and john b weren’t friends initially either. when jj and john b first became friends, you weened yourself right in like the annoying little sister because you admired your brother and were basically attached at the hip. you liked the idea of having your own personal bodyguards but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t rock someone’s shit when you got the chance. but most of the time you preferred love not war, unlike jj.

when you and john b first got together, it felt like walking on eggshells. you’d tread lightly and watch your words carefully around jj and the rest of the pogues. yes, you trusted kie and pope with your lives, but it wasn’t fair to make them carry around that secret for the sake of your relationship. you weren’t sure why you kept it a secret from jj. i mean if he chose john b to be his best friend, that had to mean that jj found john b’s qualities and loyalty worthwhile and admirable.

what you wouldn’t admit to john b, and barely wanted to admit to yourself was a different reason to not tell jj. because jj wasn’t the only person you were keeping this a secret from. you wouldn’t dare tell your father that you were dating someone. because someway, somehow, he would make that the reason to stir the pot to you, jj, or both. you would hate yourself if you were the reason for another bruise on your or jj’s body. so, altogether you decided it was best to keep it a secret to prevent anyone from getting hurt.

it was a saturday morning when you woke up to a text from john b, you smiled to yourself at the mere thought of him. meet me at the chateau in an hour. you quickly hopped out of bed and went to pack a bag for the day. as you weaved through empty beer bottles and random trash on the floor, you tiptoed to not wake your father up. you peaked quietly into jj’s room and saw he was passed out as well, taking a mental note to leave him a post-it or send him a text to wake up to to let him know you were going to be gone when he woke up.

after brushing your teeth and throwing on a bathing suit and a pair of shorts, all you needed was your phone and a water bottle from the fridge. treading lightly on the creaky floors, you began to walk towards the kitchen until you heard footsteps from behind you. your hands got sweaty and your heart sunk into your stomach.

“where you goin’ this early in the morning?” you father said to you in a husky and slurred voice.

“just out with a friend on their boat for the day.” you responded with a slight smile to play it nonchalantly. if your father saw anything but a content look on your face, you knew he would pick apart your emotions and facial expression if you didn’t act like everything was a-okay.

“who’s this friend?” your father interrogated, with an unpleased look on his face. you soon came to realize that no matter how normal you acted, he would still be the same old jerk no matter what. “is it a friend that left this in your room a couple of days ago? because i sure as hell know this don’t belong to you.”

you saw his hand lift up a dirty and slightly faded black bandana, wrapped around his knuckles. fuck.

“oh my friend gave it to me one day actually-” you responded quickly and nervously. it felt like your body went numb because you knew that there was no way in hell that this situation would end well.

“don’t lie to me, (y/n)!” your father yelled, with a look on his face that you knew too well but it would still leave you frozen in fear. it seemed a lot of the time that jj was the one to fight back because jj could take punches here and there and put on a front for everybody. you weren’t gifted with easily putting on a facade like he was so you would try your absolute hardest to extend the argument long enough that eventually your father would just knock out from the alcohol and that would be the end of it.

“what the hell is going on?” jj walked out of his room with a tank top and shorts on, rubbing his eyes to get adjusted to the extreme sunlight in the living room.

“is this yours, boy?!” your father raised the bandana higher and his face got redder as his eyes pierced themselves into jj’s path. jj quickly shook his head. he has no idea why his father brought this up to him but jj had no other reason to lie about it not being john b’s because yet again, no one knew of what was happening between you and john b.

“it’s john b’s.” jj answered, almost like a cadet to a colonel, following orders and meaning no disprespect. although jj wanted to disrespect his father to the end of the world for everything he put you two through. however, once those words came out of jj’s mouth you knew everything from here on out would be completely downhill.

“it was in your sisters room actually.” you didn’t dare look around at jj. you could only handle one glare at a time from this family. although, you were surprised to hear jj back you up.

“dad, she can do what she wants.” jj responded, with no emotion to not set him off. however, whatever anyone responded with was going to stir the pot.

“don’t talk back to me, you little shit!” you father huskily shouted at your brother. he took a couple steps towards jj and you knew this was going to get physical. you allowed the tears to well up in your eyes for the millionth time if your life because of him.

you quickly whipped around and your blurry vision made it hard to see who was throwing what punches. it wasn’t until one loud thud to the ground was when you realize that jj had knocked your father out and looked up at you, blood dripping from his lip and nose.

“let’s get out of here.” jj blankly stated and you nodded quickly as you ran to get your backpack and phone and basically booked it, trailing behind jj’s footsteps. you figured that his feet were taking him to the exact place that john b had told you to meet him: the chateau. you weren’t sure if this was the best idea or the worst. jj used the chateau as his safe space after things would get bad with your dad but you weren’t sure if that was the case this time or he was on a mission to find out why john b’s bandana was found in your room.

you anxiously picked at your cuticles with your hands to your sides, nervous to hear the first word that would be spoken between you two. but you knew it had to come eventually but you didn’t know if you had the guts to be the first one.

“explain to me why the bandana was in your room.” jj asked, his voice softer than you expected but when you looked slightly up at him, his jaw was clenched and his eyes stayed darted in front of him as you two continued to walk.

“i don’t know how you want me to answer this.” you responded, with your head slightly down because if jj looked over at you, you couldn’t look him in the eyes after he took a beating because your dad decided to snoop in your room.

you weren’t sure how long you were walking and how long the pauses were in between each thing spoken but you ended up at john b’s house in no time. your eyes glanced up as you saw your boyfriend hop down his front steps and give you two a smile before his faced dropped seeing 1. your terrified face, 2. jj’s bruised and bloody face, and 3. the fact that he only invited his girlfriend over so why was his best friend here looking like he was going to rock his shit?

“uhh, hey guys...” john b greeted, unsure how to approach the situation. when his eyes flickered to yours for a split second, you just gave him wide eyes back because you too were unsure about how to even begin.

“are you dating my fucking sister?” jj asked, shoving john b slightly. john b stumbled behind as his jaw slightly dropped and he put his hands up in defense. this was your cue to go and try to break it up.

“no man! i mean yes but like we can explain!” john b responded, seemingly coming up with the worst responses ever when confronted with something like this. you weened your way to stand in between them.

“yes jj, we are dating! can you let us explain?” you practically yelled because you knew if you spoke in a normal tone, that anything you say would not get through to him because of the blood pounding in his ears from adrenaline. and because he would probably ignore you regardless.

“no! there’s nothing to explain. this is clearly a secret you two fucking kept from me for how long? a month? two months? more? jesus christ if it’s any more i’m punching your teeth in, john b.” jj exclaimed, as his jaw clenched even harder and the veins on his forhead became more prominent.

“just two months! okay?! can we all calm down and talk about this like regular people?” you slightly pushed jj, not letting him get any closer to john b. you were always afraid of this outcome but you never pictured it being like this. “you can’t just go around hitting people when things don’t go your way! just pull a ‘dad’ while your at it and beat the shit out of your best friend.”

“don’t bring dad into this (y/n).” jj said through clenched teeth, although his face softened at the idea of you comparing him to your father. it was jj’s fear to resemble any quality that your father had and to hear that come out of his little sisters mouth hurt him.

“look i didn’t mean it like you were dad. but clearly it doesn’t work when you both think violence is the answer. so can we just sit down and we’ll explain everything to you?” you asked, your voice softening as you threw your hands to the side in defeat. jj took a deep breath in before flickering his eyes between you and john b. he just nodded in silence and he lead the way to john b’s front porch and sat on the couch. jj simply waved his hand in the air, prompting you two to explain.

you took a deep breath and let everything spill. you and john b had kept the secret from him because you were scared of how he was going to react. you two basically kept it a secret from everyone to spare them any stress. and you spilled to the both of them that you were keeping it a major secret because if somehow, someway, word got back to your father that you were dating someone, he would lose his shit.

“look, me and john b didn’t plan for this to be the way you found out. and i didn’t plan for this to be the way that dad found out. and if i could go back i’d tell you immediately to save you from what happened back there. but i can’t. just know that i love you and john b. you’re my brother for fuck’s sake. your feelings matter the world to me but i also wanted to take myself into perspective and make myself happy. we aren’t doing this to punish you whatsoever, i did it because i can’t see myself dating anyone else.”

and with that you grabbed john b’s hand and rubbed your thumb back and forth on the back of his while he squeezed yours in response. jj lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair with his free ones and let out a deep breath he had been holding in.

“i really love your sister, man. i would die than let anything hurt her and would beat myself up if i was the one who did. i couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.” john b said, with the most sincere tone. a long, deafening silence followed and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

“look...you guys are going to have to let me get used to this. i know you guys’ve been together for a while but ease it up in front of me, this is all just like super weird for me right now. i guess i should be happy that it’s john b and not some douchebag kook.” jj responded, rubbing his hand over his face because he felt overwhelmed. “and as for dad, i’m sorry it went that way. but next time there’s a secret like this, you can tell me. i’m blood for fucks sake.”

you gave your older brother a small smile and nod before getting up and taking a couple steps towards him. your approach quickly prompted him up and you pulled him in for a hug.

“not too much pda in front of me also. and i’m keeping a hawks eye watch on you, john b. thin ice, brother, thin ice.” jj said, pointing his two fingers to his eyes and that pointing them at john b. you laughed and slightly shoved jj.

“gotcha, bro.” john b responded chuckling and than gave jj a bro shake.

“soo... boat day?” you spoke up sheepishly, hoping to start the day fresh as you gave puppy-dog eyes to your brother and boyfriend.

“you call kie, i’ll call pope and then we’ll head out.” jj answered as you excitedly pulled out your phone to call kie. as you placed the ringing phone up to your ear you felt a kiss on the top of your head and an arm snake around your waist.

“at least it’s out of the way now.” john b whispered to you, as you nodded and looked up at him before kissing him.

#john b imagines #john b #john b routledge #john b x reader #john b routledge x #john b routledge x you #john b x yn #john b writing #obx writing #obx writings #obx imagines #obx x reader #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #pope heyward #pope heyward imagines #kiara carrera #kiara imagines

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sparklingpax · 4 years

Text

A Different Side (1/2)

Summary: Optimus comes back from an unsuccessful mission and seems to be out of sorts...but there’s more to that story.

///

A/N:

-This is a rather silly fic, so do not worry I promise there is nothing inappropriate or heavy in this one at all! It’s,,,a dumb idea I had in History the other day,,,I wrote most of it between/during class periods, and edited the rest when I was supposed to be doing homework at home! :’)

-Please excuse any typos, grammar mistakes, ooc-ness, weird phrasings, punctuation errors, or really just anything that looks weird or isn’t right; I’m an amateur and I do this stuff for fun! So I’m naturally not the best at it....keep that in mind pls...

-WHAT IS THIS TITLE IM SO SORRY--

-Ok but this story is honestly kinda dumb goumen I’ll write better things soon

-Set in the TFP universe!

-This only has two parts, so this be the first and the next update is the end of it.... 😹😹 ^^’’

Enjoy! :D

///

“Eat my dust, Jack!”

“Not if I pass you first!!”

“No, you won’t!!!”

“Says who?!”

Two cars raced around the base, one just barely passing the other.

Miko and Jack had gone head-to-head, racing one last tournament before they had to go home—after the tie last round, they just had to know who, really, was the victor of the day. The two of them shouted competitively as they jammed the controls in one direction or another. Excited, Raf looked on. He, too, was curious of the outcome.

At present, only Ratchet had remained at base.

The others had gone out to investigate an abandoned energon mine somewhere in Maine. Optimus had visited the location once before but was not able to reach the source of the readings he’d gotten.

Therefore, since there had been no Decepticon activity in the past week or so, he took his team to search the caverns.

They were due to return in about 10 minutes, according to Ratchet. When they did, each guardian was then going to take their human companion home.

It was a normal day at the Autobot base.

“NO WAY—”

“TAKE THAT!!!!”

Jack threw his fist in the air triumphantly while Miko crumpled to the floor in defeat. Raf burst into laughter as she actually went and laid flat on her back.

“The horror! I’ve let Jack win!!” She overdramatically wailed. Then, after a moment, sat up and giggled along with Raf and Jack. As the two went to retrieve their cars, Raf scampered up to Ratchet.

“Hey, Ratchet. What are you doing?”

The medic sighed, continuing to tinker with what looked like some kind of tool. “Fixing one of Bulkhead’s….accidents,” He muttered. With a sigh, he remembered the large mech smashing it while trying to reenact a fight he had, showing off to Miko. Naturally, the girl had been amazed, but it was short-lived as Ratchet, too, had witnessed that retelling.

Raf fixed his glasses. “I’m sure it was just an accident, Ratchet.”

With an eyeroll, Ratchet responded, “It was, but that doesn’t make it any less of an inconvenience, Rafael. It was quite immature of him, too.” He held it up to the light to observe a small detail of the frame.

“Oh…I see.”

“Thank the Allspark it’s not one of my more important tools,” he murmured, mostly to himself. Ratchet put it down for a moment to check on the progress of the rest of the team’s expedition.

He pushed the comm button. “Optimus, come in. Have you found anything? Is everyone okay?”

“Negative, Ratchet. There is nothing left in these caves,” he reported, a faint note of disappointment in his tone. “Though, everyone is fine. We require a bridge.”

“Understood.”

Ratchet tapped a few more buttons to lock onto their coordinates and pulled the lever, activating the groundbridge. Miko and Jack broke off their conversation and joined Raf to stand by Ratchet, waiting for their guardians’ returns.

Sure enough, after a moment, the team came through the portal with a swishing noise, Optimus the last one through. While the three kids gravitated to their partners, Optimus merely stood at the bridge. He remained for a moment, passing his gaze over his team.

Then, without a word, he turned and headed down the halls—to his room.

“Did you really think….” Arcee trailed off her snide remark at Jack as she heard Optimus’s heavy footsteps go past everyone and down the hall. She and Jack exchanged looks as everyone else, also, noticed this.

After a short spell of silence, Miko finally spoke up.

“Is he mad or something? Cuz I mean, geez—he didn’t even say hello.” She folded her arms.

“No, Miko,” Ratchet responded, sounding a little exasperated. “What could he be angry over, if he were?” More silence followed his words. It was not often Optimus actually showed what he was feeling like this.

Everyone was therefore concerned.

“Do you think…he might be, like, really disappointed about not finding anything in the caves, then?” Jack asked, drifting from Arcee to the groundbridge area. “I mean, from what he’s been saying, you guys really needed that energon…”

“He could just be tired, too,” Raf chimed in. The bots thought for a moment.

Bumblebee shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. ‘I just hope he’s okay…’

Ratchet set his tools aside and headed for the hall. “I’ll go talk to him,” he said. The humans and bots exchanged glances, then nodded.

///

“So!” Ratchet huffed frustratedly, emerging from the halls. “He won’t open the door, and will not talk to me, either!” He threw his hands in the air with a noise of exasperation, trudging back to his station.

Rafael nudged Miko, who had her headphones in. Jack stood up and began down the stairs.

“I guess something is wrong,” Arcee murmured, folding her arms. She caught sight of Jack, regarding her companion with an inquisitive gaze.

“Jack?”

“I’ll talk to him.” He heard his own determined voice, then touched the back of his head with an awkward laugh. “I’ll—I’ll try, I mean…”

“Good luck,” Ratchet muttered bitterly, not taking his eyes off his current repair project. “If he even has the courtesy to acknowledge you at all.” Jack flashed a thumbs up.

He uneasily began to wonder what could have put Optimus so out of sorts that he wouldn’t even speak to Ratchet. It was also rare for Optimus to do this kind of thing, apparently.

Something told Jack it wasn’t just about the energon…but he still wanted to find out for himself.

“Later, Jack!” Raf called, scampering down the steps. Miko followed, slinging her backpack onto her shoulders. She waved.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go home now, but you better text us later, kay?” Bulkhead and Bumblebee then transformed, and the two kids hopped in. Ratchet, remembering he had to bridge them out, audibly sighed, slumping over.

“For the love of Primus, am I able to get any work done around here without constantly being interrupted?!”

That’s my cue to leave, Jack thought. He quickly hurried down the halls, not wanting to be the next victim of Ratchet’s frustration. He knew the medic only meant well, and that his work was important to him.

Still, he internally wished Ratchet had more patience. Even if he didn’t scare Jack, it was still unpleasant to be around the old bot when he was not in a good mood.

Speaking of which….

Jack came upon Optimus’s berth room, which was closed. He sucked in a breath, raising his arm to knock. Hesitation pulled his arm back after a second.

What if he is just resting? I’d be pretty ticked if someone interrupted my long nap…

A memory of Miko pushing him off the couch as a prank resurfaced. He remembered feeling frustrated more than anything else. Of course, she’d apologized, but that wasn’t really going to give him back those precious minutes of sleep.

He rolled his eyes. “What can you expect when you’re friends with Miko Nakadai, right?” He murmured, raising his arm again. But for the sake of satisfying my own curiosities, at least—

“Hey, Optimus?” Jack called, knocking lightly. When he received no response for a few minutes, he sighed and knocked again—this time, a bit louder. “Optimus!! Are you okay in there?”

There was a rustling noise from behind the door, but still no response. Jack decided to stop knocking. He put his back against the metal and slid to the floor. Maybe simply talking it out would help.

“You know, everyone’s kinda worried about you…” He sighed again, laughing a little. “Oh, and Ratchet’s kinda mad you didn’t even acknowledge him. So…you’re probably gonna have to apologize for that later…”

The boy bowed his head a little. It was possible Optimus wanted to be left alone right now. Coming to bother him might have been a mistake. Jack began to think up other ways he and the others could figure out—

“Jack.”

Optimus spoke at last, his voice sounding calm—completely level, actually. Instantly, the teen sprang to his feet and answered.

“Optimus! Ok, good. You’re alive, then,” he joked. When the Prime didn’t respond to his jest—naturally—Jack shook his head and chuckled quietly. “It’s ok, I was joking. Anyway—do you….wanna talk? Is everything ok? You seemed kind of sad when you came through the bridge…and you didn’t even tell us how it went…”

Didn’t tell us anything, actually, but I’ll leave that part out. I’m sure Optimus doesn’t want to be guilted for stuff at the moment.

There was another noise—it sounded a little more desperate before it abruptly came to a stop. Then, the Autobot leader’s hefty footsteps began to approach the door. Jack backed away, glad that his efforts seemed to have paid off. The large metal sheet slid upwards, revealing Optimus’ huge figure.

His face was completely expressionless, but he mustered a somewhat warm look when he gazed at Jack.

Well, at least Optimus said something and…opened his door, Jack consoled himself mentally. Even though I still don’t know what’s bothering him. Guess we’ll just have to wait for him to tell us…

“I will go apologize to Ratchet. It was not my intention to offend him…” He started out the door and down the hall. Then, he paused to face Jack for a moment as he added, “And my apologies also to you, I did not mean to worry anyone. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Oh—no, don’t worry about that, Optimus. It’s fine.”

The Prime nodded briefly, saying nothing more. Jack watched him go. Now, he was even more confused than before.

So why were you acting weird when you got back to base?

By coincidence, his gaze happened to wander to Optimus’ open berth room. Jack had the sudden realization that he’d never seen Optimus’s berthroom before. Actually, he hadn’t seen any of the bots’ rooms since he’d known about their base.

He left the door open, it wouldn’t hurt to go take a look…I think?

Quietly, he padded inside. Taking a moment to look around, Jack noted that it was quite a huge space—way bigger than he’d expected from the size of the door.

It was also very….bare.

No posters, furnishings, or anything other than the walls, his berth, and a small shelf. On that shelf, there was nothing except for some mystery object shoved in the corner, covered by an old blue cloth.

“Exactly what you’d expect from a guy like Optimus,” Jack remarked to himself. He sighed and began to walk away, when suddenly a noise snapped his attention back around.

Back to the shelf.

Back to the blue cloth.

A noise that had come from….

“What is that thing?” Jack murmured to himself as he drew close to it again.

He jumped back as it vibrated and briefly glowed a bright blue. It seemed to come back to life as a steady humming filled the air of the room. The teen came to a halt right in front of the shelf, placing his hands on his hips as he stared at it, curious and confused.

Was he trying to hide this? Jack wanted even more to know what it did—what it was.

And while he stared at it, the object beneath the cloth made another noise.

“Roadwork ahead?? Uh, YEAH, I sure hope it does!”

For a moment, Jack stood immobile. Then, he burst into laughter.

Optimus was watching vines….he was watching vines….Optimus Prime was watching vines.

He suddenly remembered what had happened to his mom when she watched vine for the first time. For at least two long, painful weeks, the only things she said were vine quotes—in a failed attempt to be funny.

Optimus was watching….vines….oh no.

Jack turned on his heel and sprinted down the halls.

....

I’ll edit and fix stuff later; I’m in class rn lolol :’D

Thx for reading!! Feedback is always appreciated~

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macklives · 4 years

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alright, im actually kind of in the mood to unpack some stuff regarding karkat's character and the way alternia works actually, so i dont mind giving this a go. and while act 5 isnt completely finished yet (so this is an analysis post for act 5 up until page 2305), there is still more to explore, and im pretty sure i have a lot more to read regarding both karkat AND alternia. until then, i will give a general layout as to what i know so far and how i can expand this in a psychological way (especially considering i did my psych exam so my mind is FRESH from studying)

alright, starting with what seems to be the deal with the hemospectrum, theres a total of 12 blood colors. HOWEVER, one of those blood colors is a "mutant" blood which is unwanted in troll culture as it is, well, "mutant", meaning whoever has this blood will get brutally slaughtered. hurrayyy. im guessing it is even lower than aradia's rust blood, as she is allowed to live but is the lowest on the hierarchy triangle. meaning karkats blood is not even ON the hierarchy triangle and simply buried underground where they hope he stays. so its not exactly pleasant to be living in a society where everyone is trying to KILL you or at least keep you away from everything.

from what i remember, troll reproduction is a vital aspect in their culture, that everyone is forced to mate and drones will come by each house to collect the genetic material. this is mandatory apparently, and if someone were to object, they will be “culled" as quickly as they could say no. alternia seems to be really keen on the whole "blood and carnage" thing, which means their probable solution to anybody breaking the law, is to kill them on sight and just leave them there to rot - regardless of who they are and what families they comes from or have. trolls are free to kill whenever or whoever they please without any governmental repercussions. which means revenge upon revenge happens without any policy.

however this is very important when looking at karkat, because karkat may not be able to do the whole reproduction process (not that we necessarily want him to, im saying this in terms of how its mandatory for every troll and there will be a time when the drones WILL come for karkat). but as he is already a mutant and if they were to "collect" from him, they would find out his blood regardless of how he hides it. they will either cull him for saying no, or cull him for his blood. karkat, in this sense, is doomed regardless. which makes his character much more interesting.

and keep in mind alternia kind of sucks, because from the looks of it, trolls are constantly tested throughout their lives to prove themselves to society that they are allowed to live and survive. but ONLY if they are the strongest among them. alternia wants to become this fearful planet where the weak die off and only those proven worthy can stay to grow up and slaughter more of their kind until the world is nothing but blood thirsty strong murderers. im not too sure who is governing alternia but they can suck a dick if they think this is how good morals work. alternia only really has one way to solve things which is to kill those who question/fight back, OR to kill those who CANNOT fight back essentially. which puts all the trolls through a double edged sword where they cannot do anything but follow the guidelines given to them by troll's society and government, and try to survive as much as they can until then.

if i remember correctly, when it comes to the law side of things. if you look at it from terezi's introduction where she explains prosecutions with her plushies (lemonsnout ect ect i forgot the term for them lol), she said "you are guilty until proven innocent" which is the polar opposite of "innocent until proven guilty” used in OUR own society today (tho i guess we are by far the "good guys" in this situation, but we are far different than how trolls live their lives). anyways, what this means is that everyone dies regardless unless theres literal proof that they have not done the crime. even so i wouldnt put it past them to do nothing about their case even WITH proof. terezi even goes to say that technically there is no way to deal with the law on alternia, and most of crimes get solved through death. she even demonstrates this by how easily she hung the "suspect" and flipped a coin to determine his fate. however, even with the coin landing on the side of safety, where the suspect were to be released, she said "im blind remember i cannot see this coin" and essentially "killed" him. while terezi may have just been playing with her plushies, theres something we can take from this which dictates how their actual court cases are actually solved.

NOW, vriska (yes ik pls bare with me here, i will not make it about vriska but i do have a point here), from the last few pages i saw, can basically kill her friends in an instant, without any remorse. i can tell she sees this as the most "necessary" solution for her problems. i wouldnt say its for survival, but she does do it as a way to provide some sort of safety on alternia. she is a higher blood, and apparently the high bloods are known to kill whoever they please as long as its convenient. and since trolls have this whole fad of "killing the ones who cause you trouble so the problem is out of the way", she is wired to think its the only solution when threatened or when you dislike a person.

god, she killed aradia because she wanted "revenge", because she wanted to get back at aradia for tormenting her with ghosts EVEN IF aradia did so because she threw tavros off a cliff in the first place. this may have worsened their friendship, KEEP IN MIND THEY WERE FRIENDS, but NEITHER, and i mean neither terezi/vriska/aradia, had any remorse if the other dies as long as there was a reason. in the story, vriska didnt care what happened to tavros because she disliked him, therefore becoming pretty bias over his fate. because of this attempt at killing, aradia didnt care what happened to vriska either, and neither did terezi. terezi sold her out to one of the most powerful beings on their planet, solely because of their revenge cycle. as long as the troll in question did something "malicious”, then that plays a factor in their morals. vriska gave no second thought to killing both of her friends (or at least attempt to with tavros), terezi also tormented john in act 4 which led to his “doomed timeline death” and sold vriska out after she realized vriska wouldnt change. so no fucking WONDER karkat tries to hide who he is, he's overly cautious to not let it slip out because even the people he calls friends could backstab him at any given time considering theres LITERAL EXAMPLES OF THESE TROLLS HAVING DONE SO.

to karkat, he sees this as dangerous, which is why he even CALLS vriska dangerous to begin with. she might not even hesitate to kill him herself or maybe sell him out to the drones, because 1. she may not want to be a witness to something society actively seeks to destroy and 2. she cares more for her survival than karkats. EVEN if they were friends (re: aradia and vriska and terezi). so it just shows.

on that note, i find it funny how karkat indirectly distracted vriska after she baited him with the question of his blood in a past conversation, which prompted karkat to monologue about troll romance. he was, yes, VERY interested in this topic to start with, but it was a nice little bonus for karkat as to not be found out by the one person who would most likely kill him even if it wasnt on purpose. however, we do not know how this will play out IF she does find out, we just know karkat is in the right to be scared of the theory.

and, alright i do have to mention this, while karkat may have been an angry fucker to START with, who spites the world and throws out insults every chance he gets, i feel he does this as more of a survival instinct as well. he doesnt care what he says to people no matter what they rank on the hemospectrum. they dont know his blood color so he feels he has some sort of immunity, but he just needs to keep it hidden. it also may just be his personality, as he IS a character who was given specific traits and andrew went along with it without so much thinking about plot. yet if you look at this from more of the metaphorical route, think about it with uhhhh lets say the perspective of how dogs work. for example, when you put a chihuahua next to a doberman, a doberman is more of an excited, energetic dog whereas a chihuahua will rain hell down on anybody who so goes near them. sometimes this is to make up for their size, to seem as menacing as the larger doberman, as they have nothing else to fend themselves with. another way to look at it is, if you see a bear (i forget if its black/brown or grizzly) you make yourself seem like the bigger person by scaring it off with sounds and eventually it will leave you alone. these sort of tactics work in the sense of survival. this is sort of what karkat could be doing, he uses insults and a defensive shouting to not really "hide" himself, but to have some sort of way as to not be found out if people start to question. someone asks him "hey karkat whats your blood" he goes "FUCK YOU, FUCK OFF, END OF STORY" which could make a person go "yo sorry dude forget i ever asked". so this could be a factor as to why he is so crabby, however on the other hand, he is crabby because that is also his character. andrew probably thought yo cancer = crab = crabby. however i do like how he is perceived and the whole "mutant blood" really made me do a double take on how he views life himself. he has to always hide who he is or he will get physically killed. alternia would take joy in finding out he does not belong there because lets face it, alternia is a bitch of a planet.

this also brought me to ask the question, why does karkat want to be a leader if hes so scared of what would happen to him if he were to be found out? which then, at first i said lol this is just karkat, he wants to a leader because he just wants to be the leader, he likes when things go to plan and that he the most say in their sburb plans considering he thinks everyone else is a "dumbass". to which, i then thought about it more and went ouch what if hes a leader because he knows hes not valued enough in society, that he somehow wants to feel some sort of importance in the world, so he wants to become a leader. i imagine younger karkat, not knowing why his blood is so undermined, finding out he is not wanted and suddenly on the most wanted list without having even DONE anything. even TAVROS said he was on that list, but only because he was weak and had no back-bone, here karkat may have been strong but no matter what, he was to be culled BECAUSE of his blood. something he cannot change no matter what. imagine a little kid knowing he will die at any point because of who he is (rlly sounds familiar if you think about it). so of course, he hides himself from the world, but do you think for an instant, little angry karkat wants to simply be FORGOTTEN about? i doubt that, he wants to be heard, he doesnt necessarily want to be rejected as he knows he will be, so while he does hide his blood, he wants to have a voice no matter what. when being a leader, people dont reject you, they LISTEN. they all may not want to because karkat is just a fucking ticking time bomb, who can lash out at any second, but i feel theres now a reason why he has this superiority complex. he wants to sort of become the person he knows he never will become (if you put it into that perspective). so thats kind of why im giving him the benefit of the doubt here.

i would also like to point out a sort of.... comparison?? not with the dogs but with unwanted children in a family household. this doesnt necessarily apply to karkat, but sub in family household with society and it might as well. (on that note, a warning/viewer discretion, if you have any problem with this kind of discussion, i wouldnt read further into this paragraph and skip to the next one) alright, the unwanted child psychology basically deals with the process of a child which is neglected by their parents, and/or know that they were never wanted in the family. i read an article a while back when we were discussing this in a lecture, we were browsing multiple people's perspective on the matter, and one said "An affective relationship may be suffocating to [the unwanted/neglected child]: it’s a defense against intimacy of which they know nothing. Normally they fluctuate between egotism and deep feelings of inferiority. They don’t understand what a balanced and healthy self-esteem looks like." it explains how the child who grows up in an unwanted home admits great emotion deprivation, because the child's bonds of affection are extremely fragile, and this can lead to both egotism and feeling like they are inadequate. and it really strongly shows karkats personality. we havent gotten that much from him in general, but considering how he uses this egotism to cover up the fact that he may be doomed, really shows the similarity. i liked this short article so i want to give some points to take into consideration, specifically this part: "It will be very difficult for unwanted children to build healthy relationships of affection in their adult life. Love is a foreign language to them. They don’t know how to decipher the codes and much less how to build them. It’s very hard for them to need and to be needed. That’s why, more often than not, they completely shirk their conflicts with peers and superiors, or do nothing but generate them. They speak incessantly about the broken relationship that marked their arrival in the world. A person with such a background will need help to get through those abysses of love that live in their heart. The most important step is that they recognize that their discomfort doesn’t depend on who they are, but the circumstances that led to their being." it may not be 100% tru for karkat but theres a small portion of it that can link back to karkats view on life and how being this mutant can really change who he is as a person. and i hope you can see the similarity between karkats character and this form of psychology. yet i also do not fully know the depth of karkat vantas. however i do hope it continues to build up in this way, as it would be both interesting and make us feel more for him as a person.

alright, i think if i write any more i will never stop aghjsk, which is a bit too much for a sunday afternoon, basically to sum up this post, trolls are violent and karkat will be killed if hes found out, even by his friends if it comes down to it. so karkat cannot really trust anybody, hes alone and imagine the thrill he had when he saw jack cut his hand to show the bright red blood? that he finally has someone LIKE HIM. imagine when he finds out about the kids. so i believe in his growth, while he needs to get a better vocabulary, i do get why hes so defensive all the time. because hes both scared and unwanted. and he wants to make up for it.

and i guess with all that being said, you can tell i now have a slight soft spot for the kid lmao

#hs95 #hs95 ask #anon #ask #analysis #i may not have it FULLY understood yet but thats my perspective of karkat vs trolls society

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theimprobabledreamersworld · 3 years

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Yayy! Despite trying to fight off a monster of a cold, I’ve got a new chapter written! :D

As I mentioned yesterday, this one is written from Logan’s POV because I’ve been wanting to create a back story for him in this story :)

I’ll post the chapter under a line on here, but please check it out on Ao3 too! I love reading comments and stuff to find out what people think :)

Hope you like it!

Taglist: @psychedelicships @edupunkn00b @jwillowwolf @kacklingisanart @look-ma-im-on-tv @stardustlv @lost-in-thought-20

Chapter 5. My Heart Was Made Of Stone. And You Broke It Twice.

“But the wind has changed. My walls are weakening. They’re gonna fall soon. And I’m gonna need you.”

Logan was a man who always kept his emotions in check. He never let himself get too consumed by any kind of feeling. Happiness, sadness, love, hate, anger… Ever since he was sixteen, he refused to be vulnerable ever again. If you’re vulnerable, you can be broken. He had been broken far too many times when he was growing up.

His parents were agreeable, he couldn’t deny that… but he was never enough for them. Even as a young child, nothing was quite good enough. He remembered when the class teacher told his parents that he was the first child to learn how to write his name… he stretched up to show them and they let the paper flutter to the floor saying it wasn’t neat enough. He was only four! It got worse as he got older. Every time he was proud of something he had achieved, like getting a high grade, he was always asked why it wasn’t full marks. The unattainable goals were never reached and it took a lot to even vaguely satisfy them. He worked himself into the ground for the entirety of his school life, it affected his health, but they still weren’t happy. He was never strong enough, creative enough, serious enough, smart enough… and it hurt so much to know that. His friends however were amazing, they would always encourage him and make him take breaks when they knew he was working way too hard. They could always cheer him up and he was eternally grateful for that. Logan clenched his fists… he hated how much it knocked him down when he would walk in smiling over something that happened at school, to be told they weren’t interested and to just go and study. He always set himself up for the fall almost every day… no wonder emotions became such a hinderance. Luckily, music was his salvation for about eight years.

Logan took his head out of his hands, readjusted his eyes to the light and felt how raw they were from crying before staring at the dusty piano in the house intently. He used to be pretty good at playing. He loved his classical music, and still does. Just not playing it anymore. When he still had lessons, he was always thrilled with the challenge of increasingly difficult pieces given to him by his teacher. It was funny, his music teacher was the only person who ever truly believed in him. He was also the one person who could convince Logan to perform. The last concert he ever played in was the day before his sixteenth birthday, he played his most difficult piece to date… Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu Op 66. They decided on that because it was originally a piece that no one was ever supposed to hear, Chopin never wanted it to be released after he died… but they did it anyway. His teacher said that he could then perform it however he wanted to, artistic interpretation and all that. He practiced and practiced at school so his parents wouldn’t hear it before. When it got to the concert, and his parents actually turned up, he was genuinely surprised. He walked out on the stage and sat down looking for his teacher who gave him a smile and a thumbs up, then the music began. He felt almost like he was watching himself play, he had never played with such determination before and as the final note rung out… there was silence. Before the room broke out into applause, his teacher was standing up clapping vigorously, then some of his classmates and other parents stood up too. His parents however were sat down, clapping politely with a neutral expression on their faces and Logan’s smile faltered. He gave a quick bow and walked quickly off the stage. His teacher followed him and gave him a hug while telling him how proud he was. Logan couldn’t stop the tears, he had never cried in front of another person, but no one had ever been proud of him before either. How embarrassing. The first time he had been shown positive interest by someone he respected, and he cried until the top of their shirt was damp with his tears. His teacher just held him and told him everything was okay. After he had calmed down and the tears had stopped, he went to go and join his parents for the second half of the concert, but their seats were empty.

In that moment, he didn’t get upset again and stayed unusually calm, and he knew that this was the final straw. He stayed at a hotel for the night at the insistence of his teacher, that way he could sort out his head and start looking up different apartment options. Which he did realise could be tricky as a sixteen-year-old… but he was smart, reliable, didn’t drink or smoke and had a substantial amount of money at his disposal. He waited until the morning and snuck back into his parent’s house to collect all of the things that he deemed necessary. Thankfully, the hotel manager was understanding and let him stay for the bare minimum price until he could find an apartment for himself. It took a few months, and the landlord had to be persuaded by his music teacher, but he found an apartment which was close to everything he needed and was affordable. One day, he would repay that teacher back for everything he had done for him.

He looked at the calendar, the picture of him and Virgil smiling and holding up their wedding ring hands was taunting him on the wall. He noticed the date. Wow, it had been ten years since he left without looking back, and he never heard a single word from them.

That was clearly for the best.

Ever since then, he never let emotions get the better of him ever again. However, as he looked around at the decimated living room, he had clearly broken and let all of those emotions consume him once again. Logan inspected the damage, as he traced the hole in the wall, the shattered photo frames and glass covering the floor, it caused his heart to fill up with regret. His heart was already full of pain, the regret was enough to make his heart quite literally tear in two. Virgil was the first person he felt like he could be vulnerable with again. When they first met, there was something about him, something that reminded him of himself. Maybe this guy was just as broken as he was, as he saw him hiding in the corner of the coffee shop trying to stay away from the world. He told Virgil this many times, but he had encased his heart in stone to keep it safe. As their relationship developed, as stupid as it sounds, he could feel the stone wall cracking and breaking off piece by piece, and he honestly didn’t mind in the slightest.

Now, he didn’t know what was going on with his heart. He was hurt, he was angry. It’s not every day you find out that the man you’ve been married to for the last five years spent most of his life as a well-trained and dangerous assassin. Going by Virgil’s words alone, the body count to his name is staggering and who knows how many people he’s hurt over the years. The argument they had earlier in the evening was playing on repeat in his mind.

“I couldn’t tell you!” Virgil shouted across the room.

“Why the hell not?! I’m your fucking HUSBAND Virgil, you are supposed to trust me. No matter what’s happened in your past!” Logan rubbed his forehead in frustration.

“Okay, you want to know why I hid everything from you? I did it to PROTECT you! My past is something that can be used against me, it is still being used against me. If anyone from it came after you… I would never be able to forgive myself!” The tears wouldn’t stop rolling down Virgil’s face as he spluttered out the words while his body shook with sobs.

Despite the hurt of seeing Virgil in so much pain, Logan couldn’t contain his anger. “What makes you decide if I need protecting? I can handle myself, ever since I was sixteen I’ve been on my own… You know that!”

Virgil sighed, like he was debating whether or not to say his next sentence.

“Remember when we met all those years ago? You told me about how you were attacked and how scared you were after it? Well… it was me. I was the guy who saved you. Every day since that moment, I vowed that I would protect you no matter the cost. Then I fell in love with you along the way, and I’ll love you until the end of time. If you want to know the truth about me, I know he gave you something. Look at it, and I won’t blame you if you try to turn me in to the police afterwards. I have to go now though, otherwise you will get hurt… I’m sorry, Lo.” Logan was left dumbfounded, and Virgil ran out of the front door, slipping away into the night.

There had been so many lies and too many secrets. He remembered that USB stick he threw in a drawer months ago. He opened it up and stared at the blue object, the label that read ‘Virgil… ?’ taunted him mercilessly. He looked over at his open laptop that was spared from his destructive anger, should he look at it?

Logan shook that thought away instantly, he needed to clear up first before making any kind of decision. He crouched down on the floor and started to sweep the glass over towards the sofa with his hand, just so he could clean it properly soon. He got to the first photograph, him and Virgil sitting in a restaurant holding hands and smiling at the camera. That picture was taken by Thomas and Nico, their two closest friends… He thought he should text them and see if they could come over. Virgil left half an hour ago, and he already felt too alone.

He’d contact them later, but for now. He wanted to stare at photographs and revel in his memories.

#fanfiction #ao3 #My story #ts fanfic #ts fandom #au #ts logan #ts virgil #assassin au #new chapter

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7team7 · 4 years

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Choosing Fate: Chapter 6

A spark is lit — but where? // Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

A/N: wow did not expect people to read the long ass authors note in the previous chapter let alone get so many reviews about it, thank you to everyone for your kind words and reassurance!! It means a lot and im very glad people are enjoying this story so far!! I read a tweet describing writing as often lonely and it’s very comforting to have people along for the ride :)

Sakura quickly grew fond of Itachi and Izumi and made it a priority to visit them when she had a spare moment. At first, Sasuke let her go on her own if he was busy, but lately he had also been making it a point to accompany her. She just couldn’t figure that boy out, but she let him be. It was nice to have someone to walk with.

At first, she tiptoed around the subject of children and stuck with an exaggerated concern for their general health. She was the younger brother’s wife, what place did she have to speak of such things anyway?

But Izumi quickly soothed her nerves and made it clear that she valued Sakura’s opinion. She was open with her desire for children, as well as their struggle to conceive. Despite all this, Sakura still felt a little uncomfortable addressing the topic. She also thought the desire for children ran deeply through the Uchiha clan, like an indoctrination. Family seemed to be reduced to bloodline and it gave her chills.

She chose to speak in metaphors, using her background as a farmer’s daughter to carefully conceal the true weight of her words, “If you care for the soil, it will be generous in return. Fertility is…a fickle thing. You can’t force it. You must feed it properly, allow it to breathe. The earth is splendid, but the circumstances matter greatly. Patience is key, not everyone understands how long it takes to bear fruit. But all your hard work will make the reward so much sweeter.”

Izumi nodded slowly at this. “And you’ll help us with this?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Sakura beamed. Anything to feel like she knew her role in this strange clan, to feel needed, to feel useful.

She felt Sasuke’s gaze rest heavily on her while he sipped from his cup of tea.

Like any other morning, Sasuke was packing to go to the market when Sakura hesitantly approached him. “Ah, Sasuke?”

“Hm?”

“So..how about the market?”

“What about it?”

She wrung her hands, “Have you considered what I said before? Perhaps I could go to the market with you today? You know, to sell herbs. I’ve gathered quite a few bottles of dried stuff, I think it could fetch a fair price.”

Her husband grunted. He turned away from his bags to face her and pinch his nose, as if at war with his own thoughts. Was it so hard to tell her yes or no? she wondered.

Why did she challenge him so? he wondered.

He finally let out a sigh, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Put your things in here, I can carry it for you.” He opened his bag wider and gestured towards it.

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.”

“They’re not heavy, just add it to my bag.”

“But your bag is full of big, heavy, sharp things that could break my things. I’ll carry my things, you carry yours,” she said with a distinct air of finality.

He shook his head at her satisfied expression; why was she always right?

Even if his father objected to Sakura coming along, she could surely argue (or charm) her way through.

Sasuke instantly regretted bringing Sakura with them. There was something in the air that day, something he didn’t like. He couldn’t help but swing his head around in paranoia as they walked through the rows to find a spot.

Sakura didn’t seem to pick up on it, more excited about being back there than anything else. She had never bought from the Uchihas herself even if her parents probably had, so she was interested to see them in action. She greeted some of the regular vendors, it had really been a while and it was nice to see that even if her life had changed drastically, some things were always the same. She even stopped to ask a familiar fisherman how his family was doing when Sasuke came up behind her and lightly placed his hand on her back, “Sakura.”

“Oh, Sasuke. What is it?” The warmth of his hand felt like it was going to burn a hole through her clothing as he applied more pressure to guide her forward.

“Stay close to me.”

His tone was often serious, but the concern laced in his voice easily convinced her to bid goodbye to the fisherman and continue walking with Sasuke.

“Is something wrong?”

He didn’t answer and only spoke again when they reached an open space to set up. “Here is good, right?” When Fugaku gave a nod of approval they started unpacking. Sakura noticed there were only a few pottery pieces in their selection that day, everything else was a weapon of some sort. Sakura shivered when some of the blades glinted in the sunlight; they really did look well-made — meaning they must be deadly.

Their first customer bought several things at once and the surprise must’ve been evident on their faces because he said gruffly, “Reports of bandits on the roads, crime and the like. Not taking any chances.” He nodded towards Sakura’s herbal offerings, “What’s this?” After hearing her explain some of their uses, he purchased a jar too. “Seriously, not taking any chances.”

What a strange interaction, Sakura thought as the man walked off. Sasuke caught her eye as if to say I told you so. If there really were bandits or something similar, then his intuition was correct. The atmosphere just didn’t seem right.

Several others seemed to have the same idea because more knives were bought up quickly. Just as Fugaku was about to comment on their luck that day, they heard shouting from the other side of the marketplace. It seemed like everyone in the area noticed at the same time, a swell of people looking up and quieting down.

“Don’t think you can get away with stealing!” a shrill voice, presumably a merchant, cried.

“Stealing? This shit belongs to me, everyone in Konoha is a thief. Look around, you can’t think you all just earned this? ” the other man taunted.

“Don’t you dare speak of Konoha like that! You need us far more than we would ever need you!” the merchant spat with distaste.

“Come over here and fight me if you’re so mad!” the man all but roared.

The sound of glass shattering, a scream.

Then all hell broke loose as multiple men started tussling with each other, almost at the same exact time.

Almost as if it was planned that way.

Their crude shouts and pained grunts could be heard all around as they kicked up dust in the melee. They were stationed far enough from the commotion that they weren’t in danger, but Sasuke’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. Looking back on it, Sasuke realized there were clearly a high number of outsiders at the market, as noted by the differences in their clothing. Konoha was no stranger to visitors, but these agitators clearly weren’t there for a vacation.

Before the fight was even broken up, people came around and purchased more of their wares. The largest knives went first. As their selection thinned out, Sasuke decided it would be best to return home. “We’re leaving,” he said tersely, causing Sakura to tear her eyes away from the violence. For once, she decided to listen to him. “Yes,” she said breathily, helping to pack up as well. Fugaku nodded silently, but he was also distracted, uneasy.

The word on the street was that someone who had left Konoha after living there for many years was the one arguing with a merchant. No matter the situation, Sasuke didn’t like the feeling in the air, the feeling gathering in the pit of his stomach, one bit.

“Maybe I can go by myself sometime in the future. I doubt something like that will happen again now that everyone has been alerted.” Sakura tried to pretend like everything was normal, if not to soothe her own nerves, then to soothe Sasuke’s.

“I told you before, it’s not safe.” He couldn’t count on “something like that” not happening again. If anything, it put him on high alert.

“If you’re so worried about me, why don’t you teach me how to fend people off?” She was growing weary of this same argument.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Sasuke.”

“There’s no reason why I can’t accompany you for your own safety.”

“I really can take care of myself, you know.”

“I have no doubts about that. This is for my own peace of mind.” He went a little red at the admission, but it was true. Wasn’t that the role of the husband? To protect the wife? If he failed at that, he would never be able to forgive himself.

But he knew how much she valued her freedom by the way she didn’t give up on this. “Fine, you go everywhere with me. Still, shouldn’t I know something? Maybe I should carry one of those knives we sell?” Being completely reliant on her husband and father-in-law didn’t sit well with her.

“We need to be realistic,” he said as a way of evading the real issue.

“And we can’t live in fear forever. Believe me, I don’t want to think about it, but what if you aren’t there? We should prepare for anything and everything.” Rather than fighting him on this, she spoke softly in an attempt to appeal to the heart that he was revealing to her day by day. He truly seemed worried for her safety.

He contemplated for a while, a troubled look flashing across his fine features. “Sakura…” he finally started slowly, “what about using what you already know?” She wanted to roll her eyes, “I don’t know anything because you haven’t taught me anything.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. If you can heal with all your herbs...wouldn’t you also be able to hurt someone just as easily?”

Fire danced in her eyes; it wasn’t pure Uchiha, it was distinctly Sakura, but it still burned bright.

A/N: Rather plotty sorry but I’m not planning to introduce a lot of the characters who make naruto such a complicated story LOL mostly just ideas and consequences of war and colonization. And even the characters already included will take a back seat as ss start falling in love :P Konoha is the true evil of naruto fr fr and it pisses me off that sss fam has to go through so much for that shit hole so here we are. There will be tension bc think of it as Konoha Sucks but a village like the hidden sound is the one attacking. Again I’m a lazy writer/researcher lmfao so I won’t be getting into the specifics of fertility and real health stuff so reader’s choice, imagine what you please, haha I am no expert

#sasusaku #fan fic #my writing #arranged marriage au

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marvel--queen · 4 years

Text

Hear the Music || Armitage Hux || Part One

Fandom: Star Wars

Word Count: 1,441

Warnings: few swear words, thats like it i think?

Description: (Y/N) is a grey jedi who used to train under Luke Skywalker with Ben. After surviving Ben’s attack on the temple, they lived life successfully on the run from Kylo and the First Order, until Kylo finally found them and offered them a proposition.

Masterlist

Hear the Music Masterlist

A/N: ahhhh im alive!! happy star wars day! i love this funky man named domhnall gleeson. this has been in my notes forever and i finally got the motivation to finish it. hoping to turn this into a series but we know how well i am at finishing things(hint: not well at all) please enjoy. more interaction with hux to come next part. also i’m trying to keep it as gender neutral as i can so everyone can enjoy it :) also any feedback y'all can give would be great, what did you like about it, what can i do different, what do you think will happen? i'm a sucker for attention

THIS IS NOT MY GIF. GIF CREDITS GOES TO THE OWNER(I tried searching for whoever made this gif but I couldn’t find it! If anyone knows please let me know so I can properly give credit)

You loved how free your life was. Sure sneaking past the First Order checkpoints aren’t ideal to freedom but the exhilaration of almost getting caught fuels you on. It reminds you of the time you and Ben would sneak out of your huts at night to have fun and be teenagers. Many nights spent by the flowing river as you used the force to chuck a multitude of stones at Ben or after you both crafted your own lightsabers, choreographing your own fight scenes, dancing around each other's glowing blades. But those moments were short-lived.

You wish you could say you were surprised when Ben snapped but that boy had so much pent up anger, it was bound to explode one way or another. You were lucky enough to escape with a few burns and a broken arm. Unfortunately, the majority of your peers weren’t as lucky. You had limped away from the scene, clutching your arm with tears burning in your eyes as you followed Ben with only anger set on your mind. Before you could get very far, Master Skywalker stopped you. And that was when you parted from the damaged temple.

Traveling on your own was an adjustment. Fighting for your life just to live another day, it only furthered your ideal as a Grey Jedi. Even as a kid, you had issues seeing only a good side and a bad side and to this day, you refuse to believe there is only good or only bad. But now you’re free, free from the constant preaching of goodness and the blindness of the evil. You were finally at peace.

But peace can only last so long. You should’ve known when you felt the shift in the force, that it was time to pack up and trek on, but you were stubborn. Which made your current position much more irritating. They came into your home at night, you fought the best you could with sleep clouding your mind but there were too many of them and you were just too tired. After years of successfully avoiding the First Order and Kylo Ren, your past caught up to you and it was time to hear the music.

So there you laid, strapped to a First Order interrogation bed. You thought you’d be angrier when the time came but you just laid there, eyes closed, calm, waiting for the little shit to arrive so you could spit in his face. You could feel him in the area, following his footsteps in your mind until it stopped, in front of your door.

You called out to him, with your mind, smirking, “How does it feel to finally successfully kill a master, Ben?”

The door whooshed open to show the angry face of your old friend. “Get out of my mind,” He childishly yelled, pointing a threatening finger at you.

“You’d think after so many years, you would finally grow up,” You challenged him with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up!” He glared, “When were you this,” He struggled to find his words. “Infuriating?” You picked the word from his mind and he tried to push you out, to which you only laughed. “I was always stronger in the force than you, Ben.” “It’s Kylo,” Kylo narrowed his eyes at you angrily. “And yet here I am more powerful than you could ever be.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not calling you that childish name.”

“Then Supreme Leader,” He crossed his arms, “Which is why I searched for you. Join me.”

You choked on air and threw your head back laughing hysterically. This only enraged him even more, “Why are you laughing?! Join me, be my enforcer, my right hand. We can rule this galaxy together.”

“I-I’m sorry,” You laughed, raising your hand to your chest to control your breathing. You had released yourself from the restraints not too long ago. “But you want me to join you on the ‘Dark Side’” You made air quotes as you said “Dark Side” sarcastically. “This is priceless, but the answer is no.” You crossed your arms.

“Then you best get comfortable,” Kylo turned to leave but you weren’t content with his last word.

You raised your arm and yank it to the side, slamming Kylo’s body against the walls and pinned him there. “You may have more power, but I’m still stronger, Ben.” You spat out as Kylo struggled against your force. “I was living a peaceful, free life and you, yet again, ruined it”

The door to the right of you swiftly opened and you reached out your right hand, ready to attack whoever entered. A pale man entered, head down looking at the datapad resting on his arm.

“I don’t understan- oh?“ He started speaking before looking up, surprised but also smug to see Ren’s position. “As delighted I am to see someone best him, could you please release the Supreme Leader.”

You smiled at the General, taking note of his uniform, before turning to Kylo, “Ooh, I like this one,” You nodded your head to the man, before forcing Kylo to the ground and releasing him. You turned back to the General with a flirty smile, “Got a name, General?”

“Hux,” The man, you now know as General Hux, responded, amused with the interaction he’s witnessing. Behind you, Kylo stood up and brushed the dust off of his clothes, before charging to subdue you.

“General Hux,” You tested the name, tapping your chin, “Don’t tell me your first name is General.” You casually sent Kylo flying away from you as you teased the General.

“Armitage,” He sent a fleeting look to Kylo as he flew and slumped on the floor, groaning.

Your smile widened, “Nice to meet you, General Armitage Hux.” You lent your hand out for a handshake, which Hux accepted, eyes locked together. To the side of you both, Kylo braced himself against the wall before readying himself for another go at you. You rolled your eyes, excused yourself, and turned to Kylo with a glare, “Will you behave?! I’m trying to have a pleasant conversation with General Hux.” You turned back to Hux with a mysterious glint in your eyes, “You’d think he’d give up after so many failures, I’m sorry you had to deal with him for so long.”

Kylo’s face flushed red from anger at your jab. “General, you’re dismissed,” He sent a glare to you, "I’ll deal with the prisoner.”

Hux sent Kylo a side look before nodding, turning to leave.

“Don’t be a stranger, General,” You tell him, shamelessly admiring his back profile, “I got a feeling I’ll be here for a while.” Hux turned briefly, catching you checking him out, only for you to send him a wink and Kylo to glare at the man to leave immediately. You watched him leave until the door closed. “Nice man,” You turn to Kylo with a grin.

“Are you done?” Kylo deadpanned, unamused with your behavior.

“Never,” You teased, pinching his cheek. He retaliated by smacking your hand and gripping your wrist hard.

“This isn’t a fucking game,” He sneered through gritted teeth as he roughly released your wrist, to which you rubbed gingerly and glared at him.

“Relax, Ben. If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done more than just toss you around the room. You’re too serious.” You hopped back onto the bed and looked at your old best friend, waiting for his next move.

After a beat of nothing, you rolled your eyes, leaning back onto your hands you placed behind you. “Honestly, now I see your appeal to the ‘Dark Side’” You shifted your weight to one hand to air quote “Dark Side”. “If all the men looked like that,” You whistled, eyes focused on the door the General left through. “Too bad, I don’t believe in the Dark Side. Doesn’t mean I can’t admire,” You smirked looking at Kylo as you swung your legs.

Kylo grimaced at your comments, “Do you ever shut up?” You smirked and opened your mouth to respond but he cut you off by raising his hand, “Never mind, don’t answer that.” He moved towards the door, opening it and looking at you, “Maybe some quiet will do you some good. Think about my offer.”

He steps out of the room and before the door closes, you shout after him, “Please tell the General, he’s free to visit anytime!”

Kylo flipped you off as he stormed down the hall. You giggle to yourself, pleased with everything that unfolded. Maybe your break at peace wouldn’t be so bad, especially after meeting that red-headed General you’re already fond of.

#hear the music #armitage hux x reader #general hux x reader #armitage hux #general hux #kylo ren #ben solo #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #marvel--queen

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