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#(it sort of spiraled from there. if you couldn't tell)
eskawrites · 1 year
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looking at the lyrics for the last chapter of the celebrity fake dating au and getting all sentimental about what could’ve been so, for my own indulgence and maybe like 2 other people’s curiosity, here are some scrapped lyrics that never made it in but are very near and dear to my heart and to the story anyway
Caution by The Killers
Tonight the winds of change are blowin' wild and free / If I don't get out / Out of this town / I just might be the one who finally burns it down
(there was a point earlyyyyy on, before Robin and Nancy got so soft with each other, that their affair would’ve been a lot messier and a lot more reckless than it turned out to be, and this def would’ve been on one of those chapters)
Chicago - Sufjan Stevens (The Staves cover)
If I was crying / In the van, with my friends / It was for freedom / From myself, and for the land / I made a lot of mistakes
(i mean there are a lot of places this could’ve gone, particularly in the late 80s/early 90s chapters. and yes, the Staves cover part is important, their version is just hauntingly gorgeous)
Snow on the Beach - Taylor Swift (feat. Lana Del Rey)
Now it's like snow at the beach / Weird, but fuckin' beautiful / Flying in a dream Stars by the pocketful / You wanting me / Tonight feels impossible / But it's comin' down / No sound, it's all around
(this was so close to being the lyrics for the Golden Globes chapter. it was so freaking close. but i changed that chapter’s lyrics to Lover of Mine because it fit Robin’s uncertainty better. but damn, the first time i listened to Midnights i was like !!! cfdau!!)
Dear Reader - Taylor Swift
Dear reader / the greatest of luxuries is your secrets
(yes there are multiple Taylor Swift songs here. i’m sorry/you’re welcome. anyway this would’ve gone in the chapter after Steve’s affair got out. but that also happens to be the chapter where ronance finally kisses so their song (killing me by ofelia k) won out)
Keep Me - Novo Amor
Keep me honest, keep me kind / Keep me as your finish line / Keep me, keep me on fire
(i kept holding onto this for quiet moments with robin and nancy, particularly their balcony chats through the years, but it never ended up going in. still soft tho, and another one from the album that i listened to on repeat while i wrote those early chapters <3)
You’re On Your Own, Kid - Taylor Swift
'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned / Everything you lose is a step you take
(it would’ve worked so well for the second to last chapter, but Maya Hawke’s ‘Over’ won out because of course it did. that was the first chapter i put lyrics on (aside from the actual first chapter, since that’s the song the fic is named after)
Backup Plan - Maya Hawke
Your favorite game, your secrеt shame, your eyesorе / I wanna be anything you've lost that you might be lookin' for
(i mean....this is a fic about affairs. it would’ve gone so well during robin and nancy’s relationship or even in the months leading up to it when they’re both pining. this is another one that i just kept putting off so it never went in, but also ‘Over’ is my absolute favorite Maya Hawke song, and I kind of wanted to give it a place of privilege as her only song in the fic, or something silly like that)
On Board - Alana Henderson, Joshua Burnside
So you should get on board / With someone whose course is steadier than mine / You should get on board / With someone whose eyes are on the horizon / Not on the skies
(this is kinda a stobin song for this fic, and also a ronance song at some points, and i really couldn’t decide where it worked best but i really do love it as a robin pov song no matter what so maybe i’ll throw it in another fic at some point)
3 Rounds and a Sound - Blind Pilot
Now I see you, 'til kingdom come / You're the one I want / To see me for all / The stupid shit I've done
(listen this is just a very sweet, slow dancing in the kitchen kinda love song, but ‘you’re the one i want to see me for all the stupid shit i’ve done’ like?? that’s so good for robin and nancy? but i actually heard this for the first time pretty late in the process so it didn’t show up in time to make the cut)
Crow’s Feet - The Accidentals
Sometimes I will lose all I have just to see what remains / Sometimes it's like living a / Car crash, hot flash / It takes someone bleeding to get you believing / A record spinning / Obsessed with the end when it's just the beginning
(if i could i would paste this entire song into the beginning of this fic, or at the end, because it’s just such a good anthem about life and pain and the experience of years. it fits incredibly well with the last few chapters. but hey, maybe it’ll also show up in the future, maybe in some nancy pov or something)
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tomriddleslove · 3 months
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I’m here.
✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader
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Summary: The one where Mattheo is spiralling and he needs a way out. He doesn’t expect to find it right in front of him. Alternatively: He doesn’t realise he is loved, by you.
A/N: Riddles 🤝 Internal Monologues. I’ve postponed a smut to write this because my heart belongs to angst. REQUESTS ARE OPEN 😻
Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Child abuse, Substance Abuse, Unhealthy Family environments, Depression. This is quite a heavy read.
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Mattheo liked to think of himself as an independent person. It wasn't of his own volition, of course. He didn't exactly have the most supportive home environment. From the day he turned up to Hogwarts after the summer holidays, with scuff marks on his shoes, ragged clothing, hunger gnawing at his insides like a ravenous beast and a bruise spattering the left side of his face, he learnt that the world would not show mercy on him. No, Mattheo had to do it on his own.
He did indeed feel grateful for his friends, who didn't need to utter a word in their support. It wasn't hums of sympathy or pitying looks. It was them brushing off his back when he fell, it was saving the work for him when he had rough evenings, it was pouring him a coffee when he sat down for breakfast without saying a word. Their friendship was not reflected in their words, no, for words were futile. It was in their actions. And Mattheo would be eternally grateful for them.
But even then, it was he who was surrounded by so many, who felt the most alone.
He couldn't ever speak of his issues, he didn't think he ever could. His friends loved him, but not in the way unconditional love came. It need not be romantic, no, Mattheo was not a fool. He didn't care for that when he could barely get himself together. But his deepest secret was not his family's past, nor was it the hidden bruises under his uniform.
Rather, it was that Mattheo simply, had the most terrible, incredibly human need, for love.
For the sort of love that would let you look at the most broken down, raw parts of a person, and still speak of them with reverence.
It tears at your skin. It digs its claws into your feeble skin, and it pulls, It tugs, and it screams. It bares its teeth, it etches its name into your soul. It feeds on you, it consumes you, it hurts you. It bleeds in front of you.
It bleeds, yet it does not cower under the weight of its own vulnerability, because it knows you love it. You lean down, and you cradle it as though it was the most delicate thing on earth. It shrieks in your arms, it continues clawing at you.
You hold it. You are not afraid.
It bleeds, and it makes you bleed with it.
It’s ok.
You'll clean it. You are not afraid.
It was, in its purest form, an ugly thing. Ugly, yet so undeniably beautiful. His heart could only ache, and clench at the thought of such an unconditional love. The idea that someone could see him for him, see Mattheo for Mattheo and not for his father, or for his friends, or for his loud, raucous persona that he put on, or his unhealthy habits.
But how could someone see Mattheo for himself, when he himself didn't know who he was?
He wondered what the rest of his life held for him, often. Sprawled out on his bed, a near-empty bottle of Odgens’ fire whiskey loosely clutched in his hands. His hands are cold; they never warmed.
He always had this feeling in his throat. A sort of suffocating weight, a pain that restricted him. It made it hard to swallow, and even harder to speak.
People would think he'd be out partying. Maybe getting with a girl. With his friends.
It's not that he didn't do that. He did. But it got to a point where the face of one girl blurred into another, he couldn't tell his mornings from evenings. Floating on a high that would sink into an undistinguishable low, one and the same.
He never slept. Whilst they didn't outwardly question it, his friends would jibe and jeer at him, assuming the bags under his eyes were due to his late-night rendezvous with another girl.
Would they look at him differently if they knew it came from nightmares?
He couldn't sleep, because every time he closes his eyes the depths of his mind torment him with images from his past.
His father’s hand comes down, cruel and unforgiving. The bruises mar his skin, but it became the norm. The purples and greens became akin to home more than anything else he had.
In his dreams, his legs do not reach as far as they do now. His calloused hands are smooth once more, and his eyes are wide and honest.
He is young once more, and it does not bring him ease.
He seeks out his mother, he yearns for comfort. She does not give it to him. He is met with the harsh sound of a slap resounding, and his cheek starts hurting. He's confused, and then-
Oh.
Right.
His eyes close, and they open again. He is now looking in the mirror, and he is back to the way he is now. He is standing there, and he cannot tell why he is. He looks the same, yet somehow unrecognisable. Mattheo knows himself well, but right now he feels as though there is a stranger in front of him. That can't be him, he thinks, but he has the same faded scar on his right eyebrow, and his jaw is clenched in the same way. His nose is slightly crooked from when he tried to mend his broken nose at the age of 8.
He meets his eyes in the mirror, and they stare back at him. There isn't that familiar gleam of exhaustion. There isn’t sadness, yet he isn't relieved to see it. He looks in the mirror, and he sees himself. He sees his father reflected in him.
He is watching, and a child approaches him. He is young, as Mattheo was. He barely manages to walk over without stumbling. He looks up at Mattheo - the one in the mirror. Mattheo looks down, but he does not see the kid next to him. He stares back at Mattheo in the mirror, and his reflection is looking down at the child. His stomach starts to hurt. His insides churn, and the reflection raises a hand. The child looks up at him, the same way Mattheo looked up at his mother. The hand comes down, and the harsh sound of a slap resounds throughout the room. The child cries. Mattheo's cheek hurts.
He wakes.
Gasping, sweat clinging to his forehead. His body is freezing, and his mind is reeling. His heart is pounding frantically, and he throws the blanket off him, rubbing a hand over his face as he groans.
He couldn't sleep, He was terrified of trying to do so. His eyes flicker over to the clock on his wall.
2:00 am.
Every time he shuts his eyes, he sees the child looking up at his reflection in the mirror. He sees his reflection raising its hand. In the silence, he hears the sound of the slap, he hears the cries of the child. It mingles with his own, he cannot not tell whose is whose.
He gets up, slipping his hoodie on. His movements are groggy because even if his mind couldn't sleep, his body still needed it.
Then again, one more night of resorting to drinking himself to sleep and he wouldn't be sure if he would wake again. His feet lead him to your room before his mind registers it. He doesn't know why he's standing outside your door, but you were his friend. Perhaps, a closer friend than the rest of them. He knew you'd be up, and he needed to not be alone right now.
Mattheo was a very independent person most of the time, but now was not one of those times.
That terrible, incredibly human need comes back again.
His hand rests on the doorknob, the cool metal still warmer than his own skin. He hesitates, but he pushes the door open.
Your door was always open for him.
As he expected, you were awake. Stretched out on your bed, propped up on a few cushions as you read a book. Your eyes flicker up as you look over at Mattheo, the confusion on your face very quickly fading as you see the state he's in.
You do not say anything, and he is grateful. You put your book to the side. You do not slide over to the side and offer Mattheo a spot next to you like you always do. You instead, continue looking over at him. Instead, you open your arms. You do not say anything, and you beckon him over.
He does not move immediately. He gazes at you for a second and once again, his feet move, and he gravitates towards you before his mind can even compute what he’s doing. The mattress squeaks slightly under your combined weight, as he comes over. He lowers down onto you, his head resting on your chest as he wraps his arms around your midsection. You cradle him as though he was the most delicate thing on earth. His cold skin meets yours, and its intransigence wavers.
He warms, and it is the most beautiful feeling.
He clings to you, as though trying to merge his existence with yours, afraid you'll slip away.
You hold him.
“I'm here,” You whisper.
It doesn't take long after that.
His head is hidden in your chest. Your fingers card through his brown curls.
You hold him.
He weeps.
You hold him.
You do not let go. He cries, and he cries till his throat is dry, and your shirt is soaked. He cries, and not once does your hold on him waver.
You are not disgusted by him. You do not look at him differently. It is amidst those tears that he comes to the realisation that he did not have to search very far. He is not just seeking comfort; he's holding onto the love and acceptance he's always craved. The raw, unfiltered emotion takes him by surprise, and he lets it wash over him. He did not cower under his own vulnerability any more, no, for his vulnerability is both liberating and overwhelming.
His sobs gradually subside, and your hold only loosens slightly when his body no longer shakes with the weight of his emotions. The feeling in his throat is gone.
He doesn't look up at you, but it's okay. You still look at him the same way. Your lips press a tender kiss against his messy hair lightly. His arms wrap around you tighter. You both remain silent. You don’t need to speak the words, because Mattheo knows.
Everything would be okay, if only for tonight.
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mondaymelon · 11 months
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— "𝘁-𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀?" ♥
:feat~ albedo, kaeya, zhongli, childe, ayato, thoma, alhaitham, kaveh x gn!reader:
⤷ we have a large crowd today here folks !! ⤷ cw: fluff because i don't know what to do in life !!
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @solxima, @poweredbyghostadventures, @haliyamori
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"...That... That was your first kiss?"
As ALBEDO pulls away, gaze hazy as the slightest red blazes across his face, his voice comes out as more of a whisper. He touches two gloved fingers to his lips, letting them linger there, before glancing up at you, a mix of confusion in his flushed expression.
"Ah, how peculiar... how could that be?" It's as if he's in a trance. He surely hasn't felt these emotions before, and everything seems all too... new. Like he's been submerged headfirst into a world that he never knew existed.
But your touch was warm, and with you, he'd be okay with anything.
"'Bedo, what do you mean by that?" You tilt your head, still feeling the remaining sensations of his lips against yours.
Suddenly, the male seems to grow even more bashful - a side to him that most never came close to seeing... after all, as the renowned Chief Alchemist would surely never be caught like this. Flushed cheeks, hitched breathing... yes, never.
Things just seemed to change for you, whether he liked it or not.
"Well..." He starts off louder than intended, and his voice grows softer almost instantly. "I just thought you were quite popular in Mondstadt, so..." His words grow even fainter as he ducks his gaze. "I thought you'd have experience with past lovers."
You almost laugh at the notion, shaking your head as you smile at the male. "Nono, 'Bedo. This was my first, with you."
Those last two words almost seem to make the male melt as his expression grows affectionate.
"Yes, dearest. You were my first, and you will be my only." ♥
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"Ohoh, your first kiss?"
You can tell from the lilt in KAEYA's smooth voice that you've caught his interest. His hands are still behind your head, hopelessly entangled within your hair, since he'd been kissing none other than you so affectionately only seconds before. "Then, just now…" A smirk makes its way upon his lips. "I was your first, hm?"
When you meekly nod in response, he draws in a shallow breath, seeming to revel at the idea. You can see the twinkle that's found its way into his eyes as he stares at you with something different in his expression.
The silence is finally broken as he speaks again. "Dove, I couldn't-" He takes a moment to pause, swallowing. "I didn't think that..." For once, the man seems speechless, completely, utterly, speechless.
So he opts to the one thing he does know, leaning forward as he moves his lips to yours. And once he starts, he doesn't stop, relentlessly stealing your breath away.
It takes him quite a while to pull away, and when he does, his face is flushed, neat hair disheveled. "Fuck." And even though he's a mess right now, all his gaze is fixated on you.
"As your first, I'm special to you, right?"
His words come to sort of a surprise, was he still lingering on what you had admitted minutes ago? But all the same, you nod your head, smiling at the male. "Of course, Kae."
The use of his nickname nearly sends his head spiraling, but he manages to stay composed - as composed as he needed, anyhow.
He takes your hands in his, his skin slightly cool to the touch as he clasps both of them over his chest with an air of satisfaction.
"And just because I'm your first, don't think I'll be leaving you for anything." ♥
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"Have you never engaged in such romances before?"
The way ZHONGLI speaks to you sounds like he's quite confused - and you'd be correct. He is, because how could it be that someone as lovely and flawless as you have never had a lover?
It didn't make sense, even for someone with a millennia of life's experiences.
Still, upon your confession, a part of him has been stirred. Could it be that you were waiting for your true lover to appear, so that you would be able to dedicate yourself to them with all of you? It was a traditional way of thinking, no doubt, but Zhongli was, and is, a traditional man.
Your first kiss... was all his?
The thought of such... a luxury sends the man's head into a flurry. Was it true? Of course it was, you would never lie to him - yet still a part of him held doubt, not because you might not be telling the truth, but because was someone as imperfect as him really to be the one to share such an intimate moment with you? As the very first?
Even as a god, Zhongli, or Morax, has his fair share of regrets - situations he could've changed, loved ones he could have saved.
Ah, but with the way he's feeling now, the way his heart thumps, the way his lips still hold the lingering feeling of you, and the way his face can only burn...
"It is my honor, love. Not to worry, we will most certainly have more opportunities to do the same in the future." ♥
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"Wait, wait, wait. Are you being serious?"
It's almost laughable the way CHILDE instantly seems to brighten. You're pressed into his body, yet his grip on you only tightens, as if he's afraid to let go. When he speaks again, excitement in his tone only growing, there's also something else in his voice that you can't exactly interpret. "Then, your first kiss was with me??"
He believes you, but he wants to hear the words again, just to affirm himself. To hear them come from your very lips, for you to admit such a thing... his features grow more joyful by the second.
"Yes." You tilt your head to the side, rather quizzically. You aren't able to comprehend why he's so thrilled, but happy all the same. The way Childe smiles, not like the fake facade he wears like a mask, but his true smile. The one that forces his lips into a grin, the one that almost seems to make his deep eyes sparkle.
Maybe you were imagining things, yet still, his smile meant all that much.
The male makes a sound that's in between a gasp and a laugh, his boyish tone filtering into his voice unknowingly. Quickly, softly, so subtle you don't realize it at first, you find that his arms have found their way around your waist, hugging you closer to his frame.
To be in his arms, all of it. It feels perfect.
There's the sensation of something - Childe's fingers under your chin as he tilts it up, staring into your eyes with an unimaginable adoration under his.
"That may have been only your first kiss, but don't think you'll last a day without receiving another one from me!" ♥
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"Know that if you are telling lies, you will be punished for desecration."
However, it's easy to tell from AYATO's jesting tone that he's merely joking - from the upturned corners of his lips to the way his eyes seem to glimmer, all of these signs are small hints you've learned to memorize in order to read his usual hindered expression.
After all, commissioner Kamisato Ayato is expected to wear such masks, and that is what he does.
"Ah, perhaps you'll confess to your crime if I do this?" His smooth voice brushes past your ear as he leans into you, whispering just shy of your face. Then, he bridges the mere centimeters between the two of you, meeting his lips against yours for the second time that night. He was warm, yet his touch was cool - all of it, the rush of emotion and expression, sent your heart aflutter with every second that passed.
As he moves away, a serene smile graces his lips upon seeing your flushed expression, while on the other hand, he merely seemed unfazed. "Ahah, so it was true."
His quiet laugh does wonders to your heart, regardless of the situation. Soon, you feel something else - the graze of his gloved hand, one finger running across your chin as he stares at you, gaze unwavering.
"You chose me, and I'll make sure you don't regret it." ♥
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"Y-Your first kiss... with me... ah-"
And just like that, you've turned THOMA into even more of a stuttering, blushing mess than he was merely moments before he had pulled away from his first kiss with you. You can tell he's overwhelmed, by the way he grasps at your arm for support, almost like he's going to tip and fall over if he doesn't. His skin is warm to the touch, but it's always been that way.
When he finally manages to steady himself and speak, his voice is faint, barely reaching your ears. "Me, of all people...? You... You're truly too kind..."
And you can tell, from the way he gazes at you after he speaks those words, that he truly means it.
"Thoma, what do you mean by that? Of course I'd choose you, if not, who else?" You beam at him, smiling, and you can see the male perk up, almost like a puppy of sorts.
It was endearing, the way he adored you so innocently.
Ah, but he'd always been like this. Loyal, someone who'd always put you first, who valued your life over his own. You swear you can see his forest eyes glistening, threatening to tear up. "Love, what did I ever do to deserve you?"
"I love you, Thoma, and it's as simple as that."
And just like that, you've managed to capture his heart once more, a heart that you had already taken. He finds his place in your arms, leaning his head against your body with a smile, his own warmth merging with yours. He doesn't need to answer, doesn't need to say a word. The way his eyes sparkle with such unbridled infatuation is enough to confirm it.
"I love you, and that will never change." ♥
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"I expected as much."
"...What?" ALHAITHAM's answer is one that's caught you off guard, despite all the other surprising occurrences that had happened that night, mainly how his lips had met yours. While it was over in the span of seconds, that moment seemed to have stretched out for an eternity.
Ah, but then you glance up, and something in your mind clicks. Maybe it's about the way he's gazing at you with the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, or the way his multicolored eyes glimmer. He's amused, and it's you who is the entertainment.
So you repeat your question. "What do you mean by that, Haitham?" You hadn't meant to sound so accusing, but it slips into your tone - the confusion, and perhaps the slightest shred of annoyance.
"Hm, should I leave it up to you to interpret?"
"..."
"Honestly, all I meant was that you seemed to be someone... inexperienced."
"...Elaborate?"
"Must I say more? You're a terrible kisser, that's what." A playful smile, graces his lips for the briefest moment. "But it's not a problem, hardly one at all. In fact, I enjoyed it." The male being so upfront about his feelings was a strange sight to behold.
"Hm, should I show you what a proper kiss looks like then?" And just like that, without waiting for an answer, he leans forward, hands roaming, one behind your chin and one behind your head, tilting you forward as his face meets yours, warmth spreading across your body like wildfire. Sudden, yes, but not unwelcome by any means.
You almost feel disheartened when he pulls away, breaths labored as he smirks. "Not much better, however..."
"I'm sure we'll have many more opportunities in the future." ♥
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"...Darling, you have to stop me from falling in love with you all over again."
And KAVEH wouldn't be wrong - he's desperate. Because archons, every part of you, every small aspect of your being just sends him more and more deep into this hole he's dug for himself. Every time you laugh, he can hear his heart rate picking up, his face growing red. It's obvious when he's in love, both to him, and to the people around him.
He was already so hopelessly enraptured with you, yet every day, he could only feel himself grow more and more infatuated. It was something impossible to control, and perhaps that was why he chased it so much - the feeling of loving you.
You can only laugh at his words. "Aw Kaveh, that's too bad, isn't it?"
"Quite terrible indeed." Now he's laughing too, and not the quiet kind - the kind where he's nearly doubled over, one hand on your shoulders as he practically beams. "Now come on," he cups one hand around your cheek, smiling with a certain light in his eyes. "We can't just kiss once and call it a day, can we?"
"No Kaveh, we can't."
The warmth he feels with you is unlike anything else. Incomparable, perfect.
"You make it too easy to love you, darling." ♥
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(a/n) i shouldnt have written so many characters the regret is very real but hey ive done it like the madlad i am adjosilkvsdv
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roosterr · 10 months
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white flag ✹ proglogue
note: can't believe i'm actually writing for ghost, yes he was the reason i got into cod, but i havent thought about him since like january lol. has this trope already been done? yes. am i doing it anyway? also yes.
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pairing: ghost x gn!reader
wc: 2.2k
no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'
summary: if there's one constant in your life, it's that ghost doesn't like you, so when your house burns down and you have no choice but to move in with him, it feels like your life is on a steady downhill spiral.
warnings: slowburn, some angst, your house burns down, ghost is mean, sort of enemies to friends to lovers
ao3
【next】
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it's been almost a year since you'd joined the taskforce. nearly twelve months of gruelling hard work, and not for a single second had lieutenant ghost treated you with a shred of familiarity. at first, you thought he'd get over it, that he'd get past his obvious trust issues and warm up to you eventually, but you quickly gave up on that idea.
clearly, you'd been too optimistic.
which was unfortunate, considering how much you'd come to care for the prickly bastard, no matter how dismissive he was of you. it started slow; when you were first recruited, you held a great deal of respect for him because of his reputation, and you'd naively even looked forward to working with him. when you discovered his less than friendly demeanour, to say you were disheartened would be an understatement. he was withdrawn and stoic, never sparing you so much as a passing glance and a barked order,  whether you were in the field or not.
the other sergeants had assured you that he wasn't as cold as he comes across; soap and gaz both told you how he'd acted the same towards them when they first met – he was a lone wolf, not used to having to look out for teammates.
the more time you spent on missions with him, the more you saw of the person beneath the hard exterior. you saw how he seemed to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses, things you never would've picked up on. he always made sure the team had eaten, disguised as a gruff order to stay on your game. when he got angry, it would be because someone put themselves in danger, not because they screwed up the mission. you saw someone who'd been through hell and come out the other side swinging.
before, you'd respected ghost as a soldier and your superior, but now, after spending so much time with him, your perspective of him has changed. he intrigued you; he's quiet, introverted but not shy, more observant than you could imagine, and so closely guarded you wondered if he'd ever be able to open up. you'd only heard whispers of the things he'd been through in the past, so despite his obvious animosity towards you, you treated him with the respect you thought he deserved – like a person, and you'd hoped that with time, he could see you as more than just a soldier too. though he still didn't like you, you liked to think that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding.
and that leads you to your problem; you wanted to know him. every tiny crack in his facade made you more and more curious about the man behind the mask – about simon, rather than ghost, but from what you could tell, he didn't hold the same sentiment about you. where he would banter back and forth with the others over comms, he'd fall silent whenever you join in. every minute little mistake was amplified to him, you've lost count of the amount of times he's berated you for things he's excused for others. it made your heart ache that you just couldn't win with him, and you feared you'd never understand why.
but now, as you sit shivering with a shock blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching the smouldering remains of what was your home in the middle of the night, freezing and exhausted, you'd never felt more hated.
you could hear them, ghost and the captain, talking in hushed voices a little ways down the road from where you sit. they probably think they're being subtle, discussing what to do with you like you're not even there, like every single one of your worldly possessions hadn't just gone up in smoke, but you hear them as if they're standing right in front of you.
"i wouldn't do this if there were any other options, simon."
"there are plenty of other options, just stick 'em in a hotel for god's sake."
"there's no hotels close enough to base – it'll only be temporary, 'till we can find 'em somewhere else."
"fuckin' hell, why cant they go with one of the others?"
"soap and gaz are already flatmates, you live alone and you're the closest to base. this is the only option that makes sense."
"i'm not fuckin' happy about this, price."
their profiles are momentarily illuminated by the blue lights from the fire engine parked nearby, allowing you for a second to see the withering glare ghost is sending your way, and all of a sudden the last couple hours of emotional distress is crashing down on you; his obvious distaste for you combined with the toll of watching your house literally burning down was too much for you all at once. you could feel the tears start to spill over again, but you can’t find the strength to stop them and just bring the shock blanket closer to your face. you’d lost everything, and even now he couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of compassion for you? why can’t he care for you like he does the others? like you do for him?
as your watery gaze drops to the soot and ash covering your pyjamas, a voice sounds from beside you, the opposite direction from price and ghost. you don’t even realise you’re hyperventilating until they lay a hand on your shoulder and rub soothing circles into your back.
“hey– hey, it’s okay,” it’s gaz, you notice in the back of your mind, sitting on the curb next to you. you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world around you, and gaz brings you closer into his embrace. “you’ll be alright, we’ll get everything sorted, yeah?”
"i– i don't– i can't–" you try to speak, but you can't seem to form a coherent sentence through your sobbing.
"it's alright, just breathe for me." gaz hugs you tighter again, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he consoles you. for a few minutes you stay like that, your breathing eventuslly returning to normal and the tears slowing to a stop.
price and ghost are still arguing, but you can't hear what they're saying anymore; probably for the best, if you had to listen to ghost complain about you for one more second you might really have a breakdown.
soap's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, "managed to find this, thought ya' might want it." you look up to find him crouching in front of you and holding out a slightly singed photo, a weak smile on his face. "frame's broken, but the picture's still mostly fine."
you take it from him, fingers grasping the card gently as you turn it around to look at the picture. it's from a few years ago, you and your friends from your previous unit, smiling into the camera as if you had no worries at all. staring at the ghosts of your friends starts you crying again, clutching the photo to your chest and leaning back into gaz's shoulder. if anything could've survived the blaze, you're grateful it was this. gaz rubs your arm sofly, whispering comforting words to you again.
you hear another set of footsteps approach and look up again to see price now standing in front of you as well. it's not exactly surprising, but ghost is nowhere to be seen.
"ambulance is here," price says, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet when you take it. "i'll follow behind to the hospital, one of you two take their car to simon's."
you nod and retrieve your car keys from your jacket pocket, thankful you'd had the mind to grab it on your way out in your frantic state.
"I've got a bag in the boot, it's got some clothes in it." you mutter, handing the keys to soap, who smiles and gives you a pat on the shoulder.
"no bother, i'll grab it for ya." he says, and jogs off to where your car was parked, thankfully untouched out of reach of the fire. he returns not a minute layer carrying your duffle of emergency supplies, something you never thought would actually come in handy.
before you know it you're waving gaz and soap goodbye, the paramedics are guiding you to the back of the ambulance, and you're leaving what remains of your old home in the rear-view mirror.
✹✹✹
you hated hospitals. it was a fact, and it had been that way since you were a child, everything about them just made your skin crawl. perhaps you inherited the feeling from your mother; she always managed to bring up her distaste for the place whenever the topic arose. or, maybe you only hated them because they scared you.
either way, the relief you felt as you stepped out of the front door into the car park with price trailing behind you was palpable. he falls into step next to you as the two of you make your way over to where he parked, his keys jingling as he fishes them from his pocket.
"we're puttin' you up with simon for the time being, 'till we can get you somewhere else." his words make you wince; you already knew he was going to say that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from bubbling up in your chest.
"i heard." a beat of silence passes before you continue. "how long will that take?" you ask, climbing into the passenger seat and dropping your bag at your feet as price settles into the driver's side.
"i wouldn't get your hopes up. might be quicker to wait for 'em to rebuild your old place." he flashes you a smile, but you can't find it in yourself to return the gesture.
"right."
neither of you say another word as he starts the engine and pulls out of the car park. you turn to look out the window, watching the world go by, the quiet rambling of the radio serving as white noise in the background. it's the early hours of the morning now, the sun would be up in a few hours and you'd have to go back to work already – price did say you could have the day off, but honestly the last thing you wanted was to sit around all day with nothing to do but overthink.
after nearly ten minutes of trying to ignore it, the worry playing at your mind becomes too much to keep to yourself.
"you know he hates me, right?" you utter, half expecting price to ignore your question all together.
he clicks his tongue. "he doesn't hate you," price replies, and his voice sounds reassuring but it doesn't bring you much comfort.
"okay, well, he doesn't like me either." you turn your head to look at him, raising your brows. rolling to a stop at a red light, he meets your eyes and huffs.
"alright, he can be difficult–"
"really?"
"–but i promise you, he doesn't hate you." he says. you give him a disbelieving look, and he sighs, looking back to the road as the light turns green. "give him a chance, alright?"
"is he gonna give me a chance?" 
"he will." price says firmly, sparing you a look as he drives down the quiet road. "and if he doesn't, you'll knock some sense into him, eh?"
"sure…" you mutter, looking back out the window and falling back into silence. its only a few minutes until he's pulling over to the side of the road, outside the house number you know to be ghost's.
"sting," price calls out, stopping you as you reach for the door handle, "he'll come around, alright?"
"it's been a year, cap. i don't think he will." you reply, and before he can say anything else you open the door and step out into the night air, grabbing your bag from your feet before closing the door again. you give price a half-hearted wave as he pulls away again, before turning around and gazing up at your – temporary – new home.
it was nice, all things considered; a standard terrace on the end of the row, but the size has you wondering if there was even room for you to stay here. though it's not as if you have a choice. all the lights were off, which had you hopeful that you wouldn't run into ghost just yet.
you drag yourself to the front door, your eyes stinging from the effort of keeping them open, and twist the handle as quietly as possible, closing it behind you and cringing at the clunk it makes. thankfully ghost didn't hate you enough to lock you out for the night, something you actually wouldn't put past him considering how he feels about you.
there's a small side table in the entryway that catches your attention. on top of it sits your car keys – you make a mental note to thank soap in the morning – a new key, and a note. you pick up the paper, using the torch from your phone to examine the scratchy handwriting.
living room's yours. lock the door. – s
it's more than you expected from him. you sigh to yourself and pick up the other key, locking the door and shuffling into the small living room. the pull-out bed is made up for you, albeit quite messily, and you waste no time in dropping your stuff and laying your head down on the lumpy pillow.
with any luck, this arrangement wouldn't last long, but in the meantime you got the feeling you were in for a bumpy ride.
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hedgehog-moss · 10 months
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I found a nice plant in a bog last year, like a reed with a tuft of very soft cotton at the top (bless you English, I just looked up "plant that grows in a bog and looks like cotton" and the English language replied "bog cotton, duh") (in French it's called linaigrette, which should be a small bird), and I was very charmed by the look of it and decided to try to pirate it so I would have some on my land. I plucked one fluffy reed and kept it on my windowsill so I wouldn't forget to return.
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Of course, when I returned a few days later with a shovel and a bucket, I couldn't find the bog cotton again. Or the bog. It was a small swamp-y area in a very vast plateau with few landmarks, so it's possible I got turned around, but also, things tend to disappear around here sometimes, like the footpath that leads to the stream, only to reappear a few weeks later. I very much felt like I was in the correct location and the bog wasn't, but okay. Since I didn't trust myself to tell the normal reeds from the cotton-y ones in other seasons, I decided I'd come back around the same time next year.
I've had the linaigrette in my egg spiral in the kitchen this whole time as a memento, and I finally resumed my quest today. I left my car in the exact same spot where I'd left it the previous two times, just before the road gets squiggly for no apparent reason:
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I climbed the hill and behind it were just miles and miles of estives (summer cow pastures) with sometimes a barn here and there with a mobile milking parlour. My plan was to follow every rivulet I came across, since I was looking for a watery area.
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I picked a barn as a landmark to find my car again, and off we went.
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Finding reeds wasn't difficult, but none of them had cotton tufts...
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Pandolf was extremely aware that we were looking for something, but he wasn't sure what. Here he is digging in the mud with his paw, looking invested in this treasure hunt.
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Sometimes he would stop with one paw poised in the air and his whole body pointed forwards like an English setter who just smelled a pheasant in a Heywood Hardy painting and it was always for cow herds. If I squinted and squinted I could be sure to find a cow on the horizon, the size of an ant—I think Pan was a bit disappointed when he realised I never followed up on the cows he smelled, and it probably wasn't cows we were looking for.
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(zoom x400 in case you can't see this cow standing apart from her herd like a sentinel)
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I tried to amuse him by giving him little challenges here and there, like climbing on big rocks because he likes rocks. He likes being congratulated even more, though, and if I didn't insist that he actually climb on the rock he would just sort of run towards it and push himself off of it like a swimmer doing a flip turn at the wall to run back to me even faster (for pats). (Had to turn off the sound in the video because the wind was loud, so I subtitled our dialogue)
Some challenges he politely declined to do. I like how despite being very eager to please he sometimes gives me very clear "no thank you"s when I tell him to do something that sounds absurd to him. We found a little waterfall that went down a slope like a mud toboggan and I said "down!" to tell him to slide down that thing and he was like
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Our strategy of following water paid off, because look what we found eventually!!
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I had a very hard time digging up one clump of reeds with some roots; the bog was holding on to its cotton for dear life. Every time I opened a hole in the mud with my shovel with a horrible sucking noise, the bog would immediately close on itself again with an even stronger vacuum. It also tried to eat my boots, repeatedly. When I moved around the reeds I was trying to steal I had to take my foot out of my boot, stand on one leg like a heron and put the tip of my shovel under the sole of the boot to pry it up. But after maybe 20min of effort, the bog finally let go of one muddy clump of reeds in a loud, dejected SLURP and I was able to put it in my bucket. It was about 10x heavier than I expected so the walk back to my car was slow!
(One thing to keep in mind if you're going to wrestle a swamp for half an hour, is that you're going to end up looking and smelling like a swamp creature. I had to stop at the post office to send a parcel and I really regretted not doing it earlier. It's funny because the post office lady is always like "no, don't worry, come in!! <3" when you show up on rainy days apologising for your muddy shoes, but when I arrived today and asked her from the entrance if I should just throw my parcel at her rather than go in, with my socks making a pitiful plop-plop sound in my boots as I walked, and mud freckles all over my face from aggressive shovelling, and overall looking like a gravedigger, she took one look at me and went "... yes, throw it.")
The good news is, I didn't get lost returning from the swamp to my car, and had no trouble finding my barn-landmark again, and there were new animals there, a nice mule with a retinue of small ponies.
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She was friendly at first but then soured on me when I refused to let her sniff and maybe taste the reeds I'd had so much trouble digging up, and then she wouldn't let me approach her ponies.
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One of the ponies approached Pandolf, and I told him to stand still—we've been working on "reste là !" (stay there) for a while and it's hard because he's so friendly and exuberant, so I was very proud of him when he stood there frozen as a marble statue, waiting for the pony to come closer. The pony ended up stopping at a prudent distance and stretching his neck out to try and sniff Pandolf, it was very cute.
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That's the end of the quest for bog cotton! Here it is now, transplanted to the swamp-y part of my pasture, I hope it'll like it here.
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stayinlimbo · 2 months
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the world is ending (but i'm happy you're here with me)
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pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort warnings: one (1) swear, mc is mentioned to have longer hair at one point, slightly unedited, lowercase intended word count: 1.07k note: i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too ♡
there comes a time in every girl’s life where the overwhelming urge to change her physical appearance eclipses all sensible and rational thought. as it turns out, you’re no exception. 
“you’re going to laugh.”
“no i’m not.” 
“you already are,” you deadpan, frowning at minho’s pitiful attempts to repress the growing smile quirking at his lips. your boyfriend has the audacity to chuckle at your words, pushing himself off the couch and gliding towards your stiff figure standing at the entrance of the living room. 
“you can’t blame me, you look so cute and adorable right now,” he defends. an arm snakes around your shoulders and you relax slightly at his touch, wrapping your arms around his middle. “besides, it can’t be that bad—at least, not enough for you to have to hide from me.” 
minho pulls you further into the warmth of his chest, the tender embrace sending a small shiver down your spine. his lips meet the side of your hooded head in a firm kiss, the extra pressure ensuring you would feel the loving gesture. the usual trail of kisses towards your forehead and cheeks is blocked, currently concealed by your (his) hoodie’s drawstrings working overtime to reveal only a small oval of skin. 
the hood’s bunched fabric frames the top of your eyes and lips. you can barely see in front of you until one of minho’s fingers slips into the opening to try and take a peek at what’s covered inside. 
minho is being nice; you look ridiculous.
and it’s your fault really. you should have known you couldn't escape your misfortunes that easily. 
work for the past month has been hell: the road-closure of the usual route you’d take, tacking on an additional fifteen minutes to your commute. the early mornings you have to endure to clock-in on time. the “important” group project your boss delegated around the office. the unpaid overtime for said project. the same petty, passive-aggressive coworkers breathing down your neck and critiquing your every move because you made a mistake once—all casting insurmountable pressure on your already exhausted state. 
you finally snapped when someone callously stole the lunch minho had prepared for you from the breakroom’s fridge. 
you suppose now it was your brain’s attempt to regain some sort of control over the strenuous situation, but the impulse to cut your hair, try a new style, start fresh with your appearance bombarded every thought on the journey home. call it an impulsive thought, an intrusive thought, whatever—you needed to do something.
too bad the hair stylist couldn’t follow directions for shit. 
“minho, i’m serious,” you whine, burying your face further into his chest. suffocating in the arms of the man you love doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right now. “she ruined my hair. how am i supposed to go out in public like this?”
“i can’t tell you if you haven’t even shown me yet. i’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he muses, chuckling at the vibrations tickling his torso from the muffled groan you release. 
minho starts to sway the two of you back and forth at your silence. the rhythmic movement cradles you in a comforting hold, temporarily soothing your spiraling thoughts. he’s right; you’re going to have to show him at some point. might as well just get it over with now. 
a defeated sigh escapes you. well, here goes nothing.
you step out of minho’s arms and pry the hood off to reveal your botched hair in all its glory. 
uneven bangs, a completely different color than from when you left for work this morning, fall into your face and cover the top of your eyes. you can’t see yourself but judging from minho’s small hiss and surprised, contorted face, it’s not pretty. 
and it’s not like you asked for anything outlandish: a standard cut and a new style of bangs was your definition of revamping your appearance. so when the stylist cut off a majority of your hair, it took everything within you to not immediately burst into tears as the salon’s floor and your lap splayed the once lengthy remains. 
you don’t even know where she got the idea of bleaching your hair. now your wallet and soul are emptier than ever and there is nothing you can do except hope minho doesn’t ask you to turn around because the layers are downright atrocious. 
“so? what do you think?” a wobbly smile makes its way onto your face. “not what you were expecting, right?”
you can’t help the tears welling into your eyes at his silence. he’s just…staring. certainly this can’t be the dealbreaker, right?
 …right?
you’re saved from your inner turmoil when minho moves forward to carefully bring you back into his arms. the tears finally spill down your cheeks and onto his shirt, the comforting scent of minho flooding your senses once again. if you could hide here forever, you would. 
“it’ll grow back.” 
“i know.”
“you still look sexy.” he pinches your side, coaxing a watery laugh from you. his smile is infectious, and you can’t help but tearfully look up at him with one of your own. 
you playfully guide one of his hands towards the back of your damaged hair, leaving it there. “so you’re not breaking up with me over this?” you tease, resting your head back against his chest. you don’t notice the subtle shift in your boyfriend’s gaze until he softly calls your name.   
“i would love you even if you were bald,” he confesses quietly, squeezing you tighter to him.
you can’t help but snort into his chest. “yeah?” 
“yeah. i will love you now until it’s long again. i will love you with any hair cut, color, style, anything. even if you hate it or one day regret it, my love for you won’t change,” minho assures, his sincerity echoing in his words.
“so if i dyed my hair pink tomorrow, you’d be okay with it?”
“do what you want, whenever you want.” 
because it doesn’t matter to him what you do with your hair. you’re still you, his beautiful and resilient (and sexy) girlfriend. even as his hands run through the chopped, disproportionate strands on the back of your head, he finds you more and more enchanting with each passing day.
“i will be here for you. always.” 
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺
(“i still have to go to work.” 
“just wear a hat.”)
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liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡
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buckyalpine · 5 months
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I’m going to redo this story. Here is a version I wrote that I feel is okay but I have another version in mind so I’ll write that tooo. I didn’t want to throw this away completely so maybe at least 1 person will like this 😭 @paulasocean another version is coming bb ❤️
-
"Okay, I can't for the life of me remember what happened during this mission" Nat grumbled while sitting in the conference room, catching up on paper work after Fury had demanded all mission reports be handed in by the end of the week.
"Honestly, neither can I" Steve shook his head, rubbing his temples, the past few months all melting into a blur. Everyone had been running back to back missions, prioritizing actually saving people over filling out reports. "I only filled out half of it and before I could finish, someone put it away"
"Please tell me it's somewhere in this building, I can't spend the rest of the day writing about how many time Steve jumped off a roof with zero protection" Bucky groaned, most of his mission reports consisting of all the recklessness his bestfriend did.
"Go check the records room, someone probably filed it there" Tony suggested while Bucky nodded, heading down to the very bottom of the compound where there were rooms upon rooms filled with documents on every criminal and terrorist organization to exist as well as individual cases. Steve and Nat followed, the both of them wandering through the shelves where the most recent reports were, quickly locating the latest one.
"He's this big billionaire with the most advanced technology in the world and but he's keeping records in the basement like a creepy grandpa" Nat huffed, scanning the shelves.
"You'd think he'd have these all digitized by now, given how much he loves technology" Steve snorted while Bucky remained silent, preoccupied with a different row of shelves that caught his eye. His heart hammered a little harder than usual as he looked at the five full floor to ceiling shelves that were solely for Hydra. He was sure at least two shelves would be for his atrocities alone.
"Buck, c'mon" Steve patted Bucky's shoulder, already seeing where his bestfriends mind spiraled, "Nat found what she needed, let's get out of here punk"
"Just-give me a second" Bucky murmured, opening one of the drawers and flipping through the papers, swallowing thickly at some of the agents he'd recognized, ones that had tortured him to no end.
That's when another face caught his eye.
His blood ran cold, flipping through the pages faster, hoping there was some sort of mistake.
It couldn't be.
It was your face, over and over again but under a different name.
Svetlana Petrovitch
"St-Steve?"
"What is it Buck" Steve frowned, seeing the color drain from Bucky's face, taking the file from his hands, his own eyes growing wide.
"Please tell me that isn't her"
"That's y/n" Steve murmured, not understanding where there was a file on you at all, let alone why it was associated with Hydra. Bucky grabbed the filed back before looking at others, his anxiety only getting worse. "Svetlana?"
"These aren't files on those who were taken or held captive. This whole shelf is just for agents who have worked for Hydra throughout the years. They're all Hydra agents"
Bucky needed it to be a mistake, a misprint, a file placed in the wrong section, you were his whole world, you would've told him if you were associated with hydra. His mouth wen dry, clutching onto the papers as he wordlessly made his way back up to find you.
You had been gone all morning, insisting you were just going to grab coffee but now he had his suspicions. You usually always asked him to tag along everywhere but every so often, about every two weeks, you would disappear on your own for hours on end.
He'd also hear you speaking to someone on the phone in hushed whispers but he'd never once questioned it but based on what he'd just seen, he had no idea what to believe.
Who were you.
He tossed the file onto the table as soon as he saw you in the room, the tick in his jaw worrying you. You got up, making your way over to brush his cheek, freezing when he stepped away from your touch as if it would burn him. Everyone left the room, sensing this was a private moment between you both.
"Bucky, is everything okay-
"Where were you"
"I-
"Tell me where you were this morning"
Your heart sank to your stomach, the guilt plastered on your face causing his emotional turmoil to worsen.
"I-I told you I went for coffee" Your shaky voice lacked truth, only confirming his suspicious further.
"Did you work for Hydra?"
"Bucky-
"Y/n, it's a yes or no question, were you a hydra agent or not"
"I-
The fact that you hadn't said no, the fact that you looked guilty, unable to look at him directly in the face was enough to send Bucky over the edge.
"H-how could you?!”
"James, you don't understand!-
"No. No" Bucky shook his head, tears welling in his eyes, his stomach twisting in knots. "Don't. Just don't"
"Baby, please just listen to me-
"Is y/n your name? Hm?" His eyes were red from unshed tears, a part of him still desperately hoping this was all a bad dream. That his girl, the woman he trusted with his entire life, was really who he thought she was, "Or is it Svetlana. You were part of them. You probably still are, is that why you came here? Did you pretend to love me all this time just to get me back to them? Is this what all of our relationship was to you? Find a way to get the Winter Soldier back?"
"Bucky stop!" You cried out, your voice cracking, wiping away at your wet cheeks. You couldn't get a word in as he backed away from you, shaking his head, feeling disgust and confusion at the same time. His heart yearned for you but he wouldn't be able to over come this. "Please-
"There's nothing to listen to. How-how can I ever trust you again" His throat felt like it was being squeezed shut all over again, just like the days Hydra strapped a collar on him to hold him in place every time he was wiped. "I don't even know who you are anymore. I-I love you but I can't-
"Bucky don't do this, just let me explain-
"YOU CAN'T! THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU TO EXPLAIN!" He snapped, making you flinch back. "You-you could've told me! How am I supposed to trust you?! I've told you my darkest memories and-and fuck, you would've already known, right? This was all a game to you, you would've already known everything I'd ever done. Were you part of that too? Huh? Did you also have a say in all the shit they did to me when I was under their control?"
"NO!" You shook your head, covering your ears, unable to take the words he was saying to you, never in a million years would you ever have done such a thing to the man you loved with your entire being. "Jamie, I would never, I love you, just sit down with me baby, please-
"I'm sorry. We're done. For good. I can't even look at you. You know I love you, fuck, I-do you have any way how much I love you" Bucky's voice dropped to a whisper, moving to softly cup your face in his hands, brushing away at the tears that continued to spill from your lashes. He traced his thumbs along your soft cheeks on last time, his soul feeling like it was being ripped from his body as he dropped his arms back to his sides. "But I can't do this"
He stormed out of the room without looking back leaving you torn, broken and sobbing. You ran past the others who were still worriedly waiting outside and right to your room, locking it, instructing FRIDAY to forbid anyone else from entering.
It didn't take long for you to pack all your things. You didn't have much.
You never did.
You left behind all of Bucky's Henleys that you'd stolen along with all the sweet gifts he'd bought you on your dresser; you figured he wouldn't want to see you anyway.
You had left the compound by that night.
-
Steve signed at the sight of his best friend spending another night destroying himself at the gym, dark red stains covering the leather of the nearly torn punching bag.
"No one knew?" Bucky's voice was hoarse from nights of crying and getting by on coffee and taking out his frustrations out on the gym. He'd stayed in his room for days on end, not speaking to anyone, his head and heart aching. His knuckles were split from how hard he'd been punching the bag, only to be held back by Steve who couldn't stand to see Bucky like this anymore.
"No. None of us knew anything. I spoke to Tony, those files were sent to us directly through SHIELD. When Tony ran his background checks, everything came up clear. There's gotta be more to this Buck. Why don’t you-"
"I loved her" Bucky shook his head, still feeling betrayed over all the things he didn't know. "But I can't"
Weeks went by and Bucky grew more reckless. Not having the love of his life by his side coupled by the fact that there were so many unanswered questions pushed him further and further to the edge. He hated that he still dreamt about you every night, tossing and turning in his cold bed, without you there to keep him safe and warm. You were on his mind every single day and every single part of him wanted to know where you'd gone, how you were doing, guilt starting to eat a him.
He never gave you a chance to explain yourself, jumping at you the second he thought you had strong ties with Hydra, that you were an agent yourself. He'd never even let you get a word in, breaking things off without a second guess.
To make things worse, he'd gone as far as accusing you of also being part of all the pain he'd been put through.
No one knew where you'd gone.
Except Tony.
-
"Just tell me where she is" Bucky ran his hands through his already messy hair, pacing up and down Tony's office while the billionaire sighed. "Please"
"I can't. She asked me not to and I can't break that Barnes. Plus you broke up with her, it's not like she left cause she wanted to"
The guilt that was already eating at him only worsened as he sat down in defeat, angrily wiping his face.
"Is there anything you can tell me? Something? Anything, I'll take anything at this point, I fucked up so badly"
"The most I can do is let you know if she comes back or if she wants to talk to you"
Bucky didn't press the issue more, taking it upon himself to scour the records room again to see if there was anything else on you but he came up short. There were no other files on a person with the last name Petrovitch. He never actually looked through your file properly, feeling too much anxiety from the first time he'd seen it. When he bothered to read it again, there was hardly any information, only having a few fuzzy pictures of you at the base with some other agents as well as how long you'd been there for.
There was one place he'd get his answers from.
SHIELD.
-
"Who is y/n"
"Sargent"
"TELL ME" Bucky's voice nearly shattered the glass, causing Fury to flinch while the others took a step back. After Tony didn't reveal your location, Bucky went straight to the head office, his brooding glare alone getting him instant access to the top floor. The team accompanied him for moral support but also to keep things under control just in case, everyone standing in the directors office on edge. "You kept this from me, from everyone here, I need to know, what does she have to do with Hydra"
Fury sighed, pulling out a thick file from a second safe, dropping it onto the table, shifting through papers before pulling out one of a picture from when you were young. Bucky recognized the twinkling eyes, his heart breaking all over again for the young little girl in the picture, lost and innocent.
How the hell did he think you'd been an agent.
"Y/n, y/l/n. Originally named Svetlana Petrovich by Hydra. Her birth mother had been used as an experiment to procreate more super soldiers in case the serum couldn't be replicated. The serum didn't take so she was rendered useless. Her mother was never seen again. Her supposed father was one of the many soldiers who had been given a different version of what Sargent Barnes has"
Bucky was frozen in place as Fury spoke, feeling absolute agony over the words he's said to you. Your broken face and pleading voice played over and over again, making him nauseous.
"Hydra kept the child in hopes of using training her into a weapon. She was cared for by a woman who was appointed to be her handler. She raised the child differently, without anyone else knowing. Don't ask me how she did it, we don't even have a name"
Everyone continued to listen in stunned silence while he spoke.
"Agent y/l/n wanted to escape but remained at the base to ensure no one hurt the woman who had taken care of her. She didn't go on any missions but she was trained to be one of the strongest soldiers they had, hence the images of her at the base with other Hydra operatives. She remained there until the woman's death and escaped the very same night. We recruited her a few years later"
"How do you know all this and why didn't anyone know" Steve stepped in while Bucky remained silent, trying desperately not to break down. Not only had you been born into the worst situation but you only remained there to protect the one person who was like a mother to you after you lost your own.
"I have my ways, Captain. She didn't want anyone to know. She wasn't proud of the fact that she'd been brought up in such a place. She left it all behind but wanted to use her skills for good. There's a reason she one of your top agents. She didn't learn those skills from just anywhere"
Bucky wordlessly walked out of the room, unable to sit and hear another word. His heart broke for the baby who'd been forced into Hydra's hands without a fighting chance. Yes, you had been raised by someone who wanted to love and care for you but you'd been tortured and trained more than anyone else and after you finally escaped with a life for yourself, he'd accused you of betraying him. He hated that he had come to Fury for answers when he could've just let you speak instead, letting his own anger cloud his judgement. He still didn't know where you'd disappeared to or who you'd be on the phone with but Bucky had to speak to you, no matter what it took.
-
"I'm only giving you her location because she sounds miserable and I'm assuming it's because she misses you. If she pulls a gun my head because of this, its on you" Tony mumbled, scribbling something onto a sheet of paper and stuffing it into Bucky's hand. "You better grovel your ass off"
Bucky couldn't care less about traffic laws as he swerved through the streets to get to you, his motorbike revving through the city till he reached a dingy looking apartment building. He frowned, double checking the address before parking his bike and walking to the lobby. Bucky made his way to the concierge, the man seemingly recognizing him immediately.
"Sargent, I'm assuming you're the boy she's been moping over" The man at the front desk gave him a pointed look, giving him a key and directing him to go to the top floor before he could even say anything. Bucky's cheeks reddened with embarrassment, nodding with a thank you before dashing off to get to you.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, he was surprised to find the peeling and dusty hall way empty with just one door right in the middle. His heart hammered against his chest as he shakily raised his hand to knock. He could hear shuffling on the other side, wiping his palm against his jeans when he hard the lock click open.
"Baby, I'm so sorry I- oh-mam, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong address-“
An elderly woman opened the door, her eyes twinkling as she looked him up and down, taking his metal hand in hers and pulling him inside. Bucky stood in confused silence as he entered the large apartment, which was a stark contrast to the mess it appeared to be on the outside. The interior was sleek; the apartment large enough to take up the entire floor. It made sense why the whole hall only had one door. A large living area was off to the right, decorated with a mix of abstract and modern art; a lot of the pieces reminding him of things that you would paint yourself-
"You must be James" she hummed, taking him into the living room while Bucky's jaw was still hanging, utterly perplexed over where he was. "Let me get your girl"
"My girl?"
Before he could get another word in, the woman disappeared, coming back moments later, dragging you with her. You stood stiffly, refusing to meet his eyes while she huffed, giving you a gentle push towards him.
"Now you both sit and talk" And with that, she left.
"Y/n" Bucky want to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive him, his heart breaking over the way you looked at him like a stranger. The eyes that used to hold so much love, so much spark were now hollow and empty and full of hurt.
"No. You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself Bucky" You kept your voice as steady as you possibly could, your throat already starting to grow painfully tight. You weren't one to cry easily, especially after years of training to repress your emotions but Bucky was your weakness.
"I know. I was wrong, I should've listened to you, it was so wrong of me, I-It's just-I'm not excusing myself, I promise, it's just-I didn't know what to think and I'd always hear you on the phone, sometimes you'd disappear for hours and you wouldn't tell me where, I-I'm sorry I thought the worst when I saw that file. It doesn't change the fact that I didn't let you get a word in. I'm so sorry angel"
You sighed, letting your heart soften. You knew Bucky came with his own baggage of trust issues and while you'd wanted to tell him about the phone calls and visits, you worried about if any of it would make him uncomfortable.
"It was my mother" You whispered, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers, "That's who I'd call and come to see. Well my adoptive mother. Handler. She was like a mother to me"
"But-I thought-" Bucky blinked in confusion, Fury had made it clear the woman had passed before you escaped, "She's alive?"
"I helped her escape with me. We faked her death so they wouldn't come searching for her. She had been captured there to work as a nurse. We changed our names. I didn’t want her living there anymore after I left. This is her place; Tony was nice enough to renovate a penthouse for me without asking questions. Before I joined the team, we'd lay low in cheap rentals. Now I know she's always safe. The concierge is a trained agent"
Bucky felt an inkling of hope when he stepped towards you and you didn't step back. He nervously brought his hand to hold yours, letting out the breath he was holding when you didn't pull away.
"Please forgive me baby, I-I should've given you a chance to explain, I'm so sorry" Bucky squeezed your hand, his thumb coming to brush away the tear that trailed down your cheek.
"You hurt me" You whispered, sniffling. "I'm not upset that you got mad or felt hurt and confused. But you thought I was an agent Bucky. You-you thought I'd do something to hurt you" The last word barely made it out as the first sob escaped. You were able to take Bucky's hurt and confused but no the fact that he'd doubt your love for him, "Did you think I-I didn't love you?"
"No! I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry baby. For everything. For everything you had to go through, for everything I said. I shouldn't have acted like that. I should have trusted you, I know you love me, no one's ever loved me the way you do doll"
“How could you not trust me. Why didn’t you at least let me explain it to you Bucky”
“I know baby, m'so sorry" Seeing your walls crumble made Bucky's heart ache, his body moving on its own to wrap you in a protective hug. He hated to be the cause of your tears, understanding why you'd been nervous to tell him about your past. Of course you came with your own traumas from Hydra and even though he endured similar things, it still wasn't easy to open up about. "Will you please come back home? You don't have to stay in our room, you don't even have to forgive me, just- please baby"
You melted into his embrace having missed his warmth, his scent, his safe arms.
"I should have told you. I-I was scared-
"Shhh, I understand. You don't have to explain it, m'sorry i didn't know and lashed out. Please come home baby" He whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head while keeping you pressed to his body. You nodded against his chest, too lost in hugging him back to notice your mother's watery smile or happy sniffles.
"Take me home, Bucky"
-
Of course after you'd come home, Bucky continued to earn your forgiveness, making sure you understood he'd never doubted your feelings for him. He starts to join you as well when you go to visit your mother, blushing when she calls him handsome. Butterflies erupt in his tummy when she give him her blessing while he fidgets with a ring he'd bought, keeping it safely in a velvet box for the right moment.
During vulnerable nights there are times where he needs you to hold him and nights where you need him just as much. He loves that he can comfort and hold you too, letting you pour your heart out when you feel like it or humming soft lullabies till you fall asleep when you don't feel like talking. One thing that is for sure, he'd never push you away from him again. There no one else on this earth that he loves and trusts more than you.
Once again, this version was meant to be trashed so. pls.
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imagines-books · 1 month
Text
Hugs - Luke Hughes
Luke Hughes x fem!Reader
Summary: When the reader is embarrassed to tell Luke how she really feels about his lack of showing affection in public.
I am the type of person that my love language is touch, any kind of touch at that. Whether it was hand holding or even just holding my partners finger. Many of my past boyfriends had broken up with me because of it, and that's why I was scared to bring out that side of me around Luke.
Luke and I have only been dating for three months now and we met five months ago. Our relationship was new but it was going great. The only problem was he was not one to show to much PDA, we never really touched each other in any way in public.
Luke liked to keep our relationship out of the media, and I did not blame him. He had two brothers in the NHL and was one of the star players on the University of Michigan hockey team. So of course people followed him around with cameras and always wanted to know anything they could about his personal life. That's why he did not like to show any sort of affection in public. I didn't blame him for wanting to keep his personal life private but of course my stupid anxiety always made me second guess his reasons for keeping us out of the press.
I was just sitting in my dorm room thinking about how no one besides our friends knew we were dating, and how everyone in the world thought Luke was single because we did not show our relationship to the media. I started to spiral in my head thinking the worst. "Did he want to be with me?" "Was he embarrassed of me?" "Am I not pretty enough for him to show off?" And the list continued.
I just sat there in my thoughts for a good thirty minutes, until I had enough and decided to try to go and distract myself by watching TikTok. I opened my phone and as I was scrolling through my FYP I was seeing so many edit of Luke and how people were so happy he was still single. I started looking though some of the comments and they said things like "I could so pull him" "I'm so glad he's single" "I can't wait to try to get with him". And many more comments like that.
Again this caused me to spiral and I started crying this time thinking the same thoughts I was before. "Did he want to be with me?" "Was he embarrassed of me?" "Am I not pretty enough for him to show off?". After my break down I checked my phone to see a text from Luke that read "I can't believe you didn't show up. I hope whatever your doing right now is more important than your boyfriend. I did not even realize how much time had passed and had totally forgotten that Luke had a game tonight that I promised him I would go to. When I finally looked at the time I saw that his game would be over in ten minutes and it was not even worth it. I would just try to explain to him why I did not go without crying.
Luke's POV
I had been texting Olivia before our game and she was not answering so I just assumed she was sitting with her friends in the stands and her phone was off. But when I skated out for warmups looking for her in the stands I did not see her anywhere. Her friends were here to support there boyfriends that were on the team but there was no Liv. Of course I was upset this was our opening home game and my girlfriend was not here to see it.
I tried my best to get my mind off of her but I just couldn't help but feel disappointed that she was not here. She said she could not wait to come see me play and that she would not miss it for the world. When warmups were over I decided to text her out of sadness and rage for her not being here. After I sent what I wrote I immediately regretted it, but there was nothing that could be done as we were going out onto the ice. I felt like a jerk.
Your POV/Olivia POV:
His game was over now and I tried to call him but it just rang and then went to voicemail. So I decided to text him. "I'm sorry I missed your game you have no idea how bad I feel, and there no excuse for why I was not there but can you just come over so I can tell you face to face". I never got a response back but I saw that he had read it.
About twenty minutes after I sent the text there was a knock on my door and I was only hoping it was Luke. "Come in" I said in a quiet voice. The door opened and there was Luke standing there with a look that I could not read on his face. It looked to be mad, sad, but also disappointed; which I did not blame him for I would be too if I were him.
He looked up at me and saw my puffy eyes and the dried tear stains on my cheeks, and his look immediately changed from disappointment and anger to one that looked like he was worried. He came over to me fast and cupped my face in his hands looking me over trying to decipher what was wrong and why I had been crying.
Luke's POV:
After I got that text from Olivia asking for me to come to her dorm so she could tell me whey she missed my game I did not know what to feel. I was still upset with her, but something in me told me to go see her so I did.
Twenty minutes after I got the text I was standing at her dorm room knocking on the door. I heard a quiet "come in" from the other side of the door. When I walked in I saw she had puffy eyes and dried tear stains on her cheeks. I immediately forgot about why I was mad at her and rushed to her side, grabbing her face in my hand to determine what was wrong.
Luke's POV:
I just kept looking at her his my hands on her face and my thumbs stroking her cheeks. "Sweetheart what wrong, why were you crying" just that sentence that came from my mouth sent her into tears again. She started crying and I just got even more worried having no idea what was wrong. So I did the only thing I could think of and that was to pull her into my arms and try to comfort her the best I could.
I pulled her into my arms and climbed on to her bed still holding her close to me, and trying to soothe her cry's. "Shhh it's ok, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere" is what I kept repeating as I rubbed her back and stroked her hair.
When that was not working I decided to lay down and pull her on top of me putting her head right where my heart was. "I need you to take deep breaths Liv, breathe with me and listen to my heart". When she started to do as I said and her breathing was not as rapid as it was before I sat up with her still in my arms so I could see her face.
When she looked up at me it made my heart break, I had no idea what was wrong with her and why she was hurting. That hurt me, that I did not know how to help her. I cupped her face again and wiped off all of the tears that were on her face and said "can you tell me what's got my girl so upset, I want to fix it, I want to see that smile I love so much".
Your POV/Olivia POV:
After Luke had calmed me down he cupped my face and said "can you tell me what's got my girl so upset, I want to fix it, I want to see that smile I love so much". I just looked at him not wanting to tell him the reason I was crying because it was embarrassing. I also did not want to tell him that my love language was touch and that I had been feeling this way our whole relationship.
So I did the only thing I could think of and that was to open the edits of him I saw on my TikTok to show him the comments. After I showed him many comments he just looked confused wondering why I had showed him those. So I spoke up.
"Everyone thinks that you're single, and I get that you don't want our relationship all over the media but holding hands in public is not a crime. I just want people to know that you're not single and that you are in a happy relationship with someone. I don't know why you don't want to even just kiss my cheek in public but it makes me think that your embarrassed of me, or that I'm not pretty enough for you to show off in public. I'm upset because I just want people to know that you're taken, but you won't show me any affection in public, and it makes me want to cry every time that happens".
Luke just looked at me like someone had shot his favorite puppy. He looked so unbelievably sad. He finally spoke up and said "Liv I had no idea you felt like that. I course I'm not embarrassed of you, and don't even think for a second that you are anything less the so beautiful that I can't even put it into words to describe. If you had just told me how you had been feeling I would have fixed it in an instant".
"Really" I mumbled. He looked at me and let out a small smile and said "really. I never want you feeling like this again. From now on every time we go out in public I will be holding your hand and showing you as much affection as I can". I smiled at him and wrapped my arms around him hugging him tight.
After we hugged for a good ten minutes I pulled away and said "I should also tell you something else". He smiled at me and put his hands on my waist his thumbs going under my shirt and rubbing my sides. "You can tell me anything, no more hiding our thoughts and feelings" he said. I took and deep breath and spit out what I had always wanted to say
"mylovelanguageisphyscialtouchandidnotwantottellyouthatincaseyouweregoingtobreakuowithmylikemyladtboyfriends" he just looked at me like i came from another planet and said "I did not hear a word you just said you are going to need to say that a lot slower". I took another see breath and tried again "my love language is physical touch and I did not want to tell you that in cause you were going to break up with my like my last boyfriend's".
"I would never break up with you because of that, from now on whenever I am with you I will be holding you or touching you in some way. You don't need to feel unwanted anymore, because I want you and your suck with me" is what he said. I smiled at him and wrapped him in another big hug holding him as tight as I could without hurting him, and him doing the same to me.
He moved us so that we were lying down on my bed under my blankets with me on top of him and his arms wrapped around my waist. He moved one arm to stroke my hair and that started to put me to sleep. Before I fell fully asleep I heard him whisper "I'm so sorry I made you feel like that, never again will that happen, your stuck with me forever I'm never letting you go. I know it might be a bit early to say this but I love you Olivia". I felt him kiss my head and then hug me even tighter if that was possible and we both fell asleep.
Let's just say the next day he posted me on his social media and I posted him on mine, and whenever we were out in public he was always holding my hand where ever we went. He always made sure that I was ok from then on and always helped me with the media and the hate comments they sent my way.
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forever-rogue · 1 year
Note
Joel teaching reader how to swim and hella sexual tension I would DIE
I am a sucker for the thought of Joel teaching reader how to do anything
Tumblr media
AN | Shut up though, I loved writing this! 🥰 
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.3k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Joel had taught you a lot of things since you'd met him almost two years ago.
He'd taught you how to shoot properly, despite the fact that you nearly blew his head off. He had the patience of a saint, but claimed he had the heart of a sinner. Either way - he was the one that taught you.
He'd taught you how to drive, despite the fact that there was no real reason for you to know. Sure, you had been plenty old enough drive before the end of the world but had never wanted to. These days it just seemed like a novelty. Even though you had managed to back into a tree - a feat he still wasn't sure how you managed - he still was patient and gentle with you. 
The man had taught you a lot of useful things and skills, and you were always an eager learner. If anything, you enjoyed being in his company. 
In turn you'd shown him some of your own skills and tricks. You were sure they paled in comparison but you couldn't deny the fact that it was hilarious to watch him try and bake. He might have been a decent cook but a baker, he was not. And yet you still ate his hard, flavorless cookies with a big smile on your face.
You loved getting to show him how to crochet, despite how frustrated he grew at the delicate materials in his hands. You set him right over and over again but never lost your patience even when he was ready to give up. He'd ended up making you an off kilter scarf; you adored it.
It was a trade off between the two of you; give and take, take and give. Sometimes it was the little things, like him making sure you'd remembered to eat or bringing you a coffee or you making sure he'd rested or didn't forget any of his tools. 
You didn't really know where that left the two of you, in this sort of weird limbo where you were neither just friends but also not lovers. It was…odd. Sometimes you were ready to step across the line, to step from the garden into the jungle and finally just kiss him but you never quite worked up the needed bravado. Joel experienced significant moments of weakness, ones where he desired to pull you into his arms and kiss you dizzy, but he never let him spiral. Instead he kept his distance, yearning and yearning and yearning.
But now? Now he was convinced you were trying to kill him.
And it had all started one lazy evening when he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Idiot, he cursed himself.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"What do you mean you don't know how to swim?" Joel almost choked on his beer as you offered him a sheepish little smile, "that's - its - I…that's a basic life skill!"
"I dunno," you felt your face warming and warming under his intense scrutiny, sure you would explode from the look in his eyes, "I just never learned and never really a need to."
"What if some sort of emergency happened and you needed to swim, huh?" He leaned back in his chair and regarded you with curiosity, a smile dancing across his features, "you just gonna drown?"
"No," you waved him off, "I always thought that I'd be able to just…figure out."
"Right," he was holding back his laughter, you could tell, "of course."
"Joel Miller!" You huffed at him, "do not laugh at me!"
"I'm not!"
"You are too," you looked at him with a pout and he leaned forward to brush a few stray hairs out of your face. The simple shiver felt electric, "don't be mean…please."
"I'm not, sweetheart," he promised, "but I am going to teach you how to swim."
"What?!"
"Yes," he nodded cooly, "and you don't get a choice so don't bother arguing. You need to know how…and even if you never swim again, at least you'll know how to."
"Fine," you pretended to glare at him, your expression falling so far away from that, "fine."
"Fine," he nodded in agreement, "this weekend at the lake."
He had no idea he'd just signed his death warrant.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was a warm and sunny afternoon when you made your way over to the lake. You had your bathing suit on under your baggy t-shirt and jean shorts. This felt so…normal. That alone brought a smile to your face.
Joel was already there, a blanket and some towels and a picnic basket on the ground next to him. If you'd been looking at him and not stunned at everything he'd brought, you might have noticed the way his entire face lit up.
"Joel," you finally turned to him and felt your legs already turn to tell at the sight of him, "you've…definitely gone well above what I expected."
"Well, I had to make this a good first time…e-experience," his cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you giggled at him.
"A good first time, huh?" You teased and yeah. You were absolutely going to be the death of him.
"First time swimming," he stared at his feet, mentally kicking himself for how foolish you made him feel, "first experience with swimming."
"Relax Miller," you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I'm just teasin'."
"You're being cruel," he insisted as you shrugged innocently, "we're here for a very serious purpose."
"You're right," you nodded firmly, "let's get started…unless you want to eat first?"
"Food after," he insisted as you playfully rolled your eyes and nodded. You kicked off your slides and tugged down your shorts. Your t-shirt had been oversize and baggy enough that nothing was really showing. 
This much Joel could handle. This was still in the safe zone. He mirrored your actions and pulled down his pants, leaving his bottom half in swim trunks. You took a moment to admire that much of him.
Then you did it; you almost gave him a heart attack as you lifted up your shirt, making quick work of throwing it off and discarding it into the growing clothes pile. Joel inhaled sharply as he looked you over with wide eyes.
You were wearing a two-piece, one that first you perfectly, highlight every curve, and looked like it was made for you. Joel was almost drooling as he willed himself not stare at your ass or breasts, reminding himself that this was just to teach you to swim. A valuable life skill. 
But he was slowly forgetting that with each passing moment, drinking you in and trying his best to remain respectful. You were just so damn beautiful.
You caught him staring and instantly shied away, worried by his silent reaction, "is this too much? Should I try and change into something else-
"No!"
"This was the only one I could scrounge up," you nervously scratched the back of your neck, "nobody seemed to have anything better."
Right. Because no one else in Jackson had something better or more modest. They did, of course they did, but…they were also tired of watching the two of you moon over each other and thought that maybe this would push the two of you in the right direction. Friendly encouragement, Ellie would call it.
"It's fine," it was anything but fine. It was giving him a heart attack and a hard on, "really."
"Okay," you nodded shyly as he cleared his throat, "come on then, I can't be the only one this exposed!"
Joel hesitated for a moment before moving to take off his shirt. It was something he still struggled with at times, but he knew that you'd never judge him. If there was anything he trusted, it was you.
As soon as he was shirtless you had to work to keep from jumping his bones. He was always insanely attractive in that rugged, handsome way and this was no exception. Golden skin marred with the harshness and cruelty of the years and dotted with freckles. You wanted to map them out with your lips, to taste him, and make him yours. It could be so simple, really. All you had to do-
"Hey," Joel snapped you out of your little daydream fantasy and you looked back at him with a soft, dreamy smile, "take a picture, huh?"
"Ha ha," damn. He'd caught you red-handed, "let's get started."
"Get in the water," he insisted as he jerked his head to the side.
"Pardon?"
"Dive right in," he repeated, "I'll go first and make sure you don't drown, sweetheart. Gotta learn to tread water first and foremost."
"I…I'm nervous," you confessed softly, "what if I can't do it?"
"You can," he promised softly, "I have full faith in you. And you know I would never let anything happen to you."
You both knew he was right.
"Okay. I trust you," you whispered, walking to the water's edge. 
It was sink or swim, and something told you that was going to be applicable for multiple things today.
"Good," he promised, "come on."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Turned out that swimming wasn't too bad at all. Or too hard. What was that old expression - like a duck to water? Well that happened to be you. It probably didn't hurt that you didn't want to make a fool out of yourself in front of Joel, so you listened closely and tried your best to do exactly what he was telling you.
Admittedly it was hard to stay focused with him close and so bare and so hands on. Every fiber of your being was humming with anticipation and nerves.
"Not so hard," Joel grinned as you swam to a stop in front of him. You were practically glowing under his praise. 
"Not so bad-" but just then you felt something touch your leg, and you shrieked. It was such an odd and unexpected sensation that your body did the first thing it could thing of - grab onto to Joel.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," you were holding onto him tightly, pressing your body into his as you willed whatever had touched you to disappear. Joel, naturally and instinctively, wrapped his arm around you in a protective manner, "what's wrong? What happened?"
 “I felt something,” you closed your eyes and buried your face into his neck - his glorious, lovely neck - and tried to calm down, “it was brushed against my leg. It felt so weird and gross.”
“Oh,” and he laughed, the bastard had the audacity to laugh, as you pulled back and looked at him with a pretty pout on your lips. He longed to kiss it away, “we’re in a lake sweetheart, there’s bound to be some fish in here.”
“Fish?” your nose wrinkled in disgust, something which he found endearing as hell, “I…that makes sense. But I don’t like it! It felt horrible.”
“You’re okay,” he promised sweetly, pushing your wet hair behind your ears, “I’ve got you.”
“I know,” there was a palpable shift between the two of you then and there. He didn’t let go of you, and you weren’t in a hurry to pull out of his touch. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, at a loss for words. Instead, you just looked at him, the human embodiment of heart eyes, “Joel.”
“How much longer are we going to keep doing this?” he asked so quietly that for a moment you wondered if he’d even said anything. But then he was so close, and so close for you to finally kiss.
“D-doing what?” you stammered nervously, well aware of what he meant.
“Dancing around each other,” he brushed his knuckles over your cheek and you made a small sound in the back of your throat, “acting like we don’t want this. So close, but never quite there.”
“We could stop…”
“We should stop,” he agreed with a small nod, tilting his head as he cupped the back of your neck with a soft touch, “if you want to.”
"Oh totally, I want to,” you agreed, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours and he was kissing in the sweetest and most gentle touch. You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped you as he pulled you impossibly closer and you melded your body into his. He didn’t stop until you were breathless and definitely in a dizzying love spiral. 
“Look at that,” he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as you sighed softly, “nothing happened and you, sweetheart, know how to swim.”
“I had a pretty good teacher,” and with that you kissed him again, lazy and saccharine, neither of you in a rush to end what had been building for so long, “you know?”
“It’s easy when you have a good student,” he teased affectionately, “you’re going to be the death of me…but you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” you sighed into his touch, “but you love it.”
“I do,” he had to stop himself from saying what was really on his mind just yet. He didn’t want to rush; he wanted to take the time to cultivate what he had with you, to watch it blossom and grow over time, “I do.”
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akutasoda · 8 months
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bloody confessions
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synopsis - in a sudden realisation they may never see you again, they have something to say
includes - diluc, kaeya, xiao, sara, cyno, wriothesley
warnings - gn!reader, angst to comfort in some, angst, mentions of blood, reader is fighter in kaeya's and sara's, reader dies in kaeya's(sorry), wriothesely may be occ, enemies to lovers, wc - 2.1k
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diluc ragnvindr ★↷
mistakes. diluc has made alot of those in his life, some of them worse than others. but the worse one to date is letting you end up in this condition.
you were one of diluc's most trusted friends since his childhood, someone that stuck through him thick and thin. but someone along that line of friendship you had started to wish that it was something slightly more than a strong friendship. but you had no idea if diluc felt the same and not wanting to make things awkward you kept quiet about your growing feelings.
but little did you know diluc felt the same way. but both of you were scared that the other may not feel the same way. but passers-by could see that both of you were struggling with your feelings. more specifically diluc's brother kaeya. who practically couldn't help but cringe at the awkwardness knowing his brother was hopelessly in love with you but couldn't bring himself to confess.
but eventually with a little prodding from kaeya, diluc starrted to plan his way to confess. even eventually asking adeline for help, who couldn't help but smile at the idea of diluc finally confessing. but it seemed the archon's weren't in his favour.
on the day if his confession diluc went out to meet you in his wineyard. as the previous day he asked you to meet him there. but after 10 - 15 minutes of waiting passed the time agreed, you hadnt shown up. he tried to tell himself you were just running late that you would be here any minute but that was doing little to his hopes of confessing. eventually he heard someone approaching. thinking it was you he started mentally preparing himself, until ge saw adeline round the corner wearing a concerned look. 'master diluc I'm afraid I've come bearing bad news' this sent his mind into a spiral. 'what kind of bad news?' he was hoping to the archons it wasn't to do with you but seeing as adeline told him presumably right away it was serious. 'im afraid your going to have postpone your confession, they are currently being tended after a serious accident'.
this sent his heart racing, and his mind clouded with worry and anger. adeline explained how some fatui skirmishers had ambushed you and left you in a critical state, dead had not the knights of favonius stepped in. as diluc approached where you were recovering, he had ran into a medic and asked how you were and after confirming you were fine and just needed to rest but he could go see you, he couldn't help but grimace at your bloodied state. matted hair, bandage's, archons he wished he was there to save you. he knelt beside you taking your slightly cold but warming hand in his he pressed it to his lips and in a moment of weakness spilled out all his confessions, knowing you were unconscious and probably wouldnt hear him, but it made him feel better.
kaeya alberich ★↷
you two were known as an unstoppable duo in the knights of favonius. his stragetic thinking paired with your power in combat, you two were a package deal. but recently that had been concerns with more abyss mage's showing up near mondstadt's border. needing only you to go out and sort out the arising problem.
this concerned kaeya more than it should've. to most it seemed like he was worried because you were working partners and this was the first mission in a while you would be separated. and he thought so too. he tried to think rationally but the longer he tried to deny his budding feelings for you, the stronger they became. and he could only hope you returned safely and maybe he could get over his denial and confess.
so on the day you were meant to return, exactly 3 days you were set to be gone - he kept track, kaeya couldn't focus in his work and instead promted to wait for you. he waited until he saw a figure in the distance thinking it was you he got up excitedly, until he saw more people with the figure and the closer they came he noticed you. but you weren't looking like your normal self. you laid unconscious in another knights arm's as they rushed passed him hoping to get you the urgent treatment you needed. he was frozen in place for a while until he realised he needed to check how you were.
he paced outside where you were being treated waiting for the medic's to let him in as he was told it wasn't wise for him to be in there while you were being treated. until the noises of the medics near your bed went silent as tine seemed to stop. panic-stricken, he barged into where you were to see the grimaces on everyone's faces as they didnt stop him from teaching out to grab your hand. your hand that felt colder than anything he had ever felt before.
adeptus xiao ★↷
xiao was reluctant to let you, a mortal, into his life. he was scared his karmic debt would affect you aswell as his past comrade's. but you were insistent on becoming the yaksha's friend. and eventually you earned a spot in his heart.
eventually after being close to the yaksha for a while he started feeling a new feeling he had never felt before. whenever you dragged him to do things he felt a flutter in his stomach that made him feel weird. he didn't know what to do. everytime you smiled at him or did something with or for him he felt this way and he was at loss of what to do about it. maybe it would just go away.
that was until one day he returned to the wangshu inn and verr goldet immediately called for him to tell him 'just to be clear, they should be fine-', that set him up in alarm. there was only one person that verr goldet would know that he had a bond with. you. he immediately went to your room in the wangshu inn, after listening to verr goldet explain the whole story to him.
he looked upon you bandaged body that hid your worst wounds from him. why didn't you call for him? he knelt beside you and with no explanation looked ahead and started spewing out confessions about how you made him feel. 'you are the only person to make me feel these things, stay and help me understand them.'
kujou sara ★↷
you were an upcoming soilder in the tenryou commission. you had alot of potential and that attracted even the general herself. she never really was that intrested in her fellow soilders, she got along with them sure that's what any good general would do but you seemed different.
originally she thought it was your quick rise in the ranks, or something similar. but it seemed different when she had a small twinge of jealousy stir within her when a soilder became overly friendly with you. she also found intrest in how when sparring, you wanted to spar with her and surprisingly managed to keep up pretty well.
but eventually you were placed on a patrol with some other similar ranking commission members a fair way away from the camp. she had made decisions like this for a while but this one felt different and more personal for her. she pushed those feelings back and insisted to herself that they would pass. although she still counted down the days till you returned not that she would admit.
but when you returned you were beaten, bruised and completely bloody, the only one to return. you passed out before you even stepped into the camp and had to be rushed back into inazuma for urgent treatment. turns out your camp was ambushed and destroyed within seconds. Sara felt an indescribable amount of fear at the thought of losing you so she felt compelled to finish the mission as quickly as possible and check up on you and maybe get revenge. this was a shock to other soilders but no one spoke about it, they wouldn't dare. but sara was more aware of her feelings now and as much as she hated to think of it but maybe confessing to you wasn't that bad when you recovered.
cyno ★↷
you had met the general mahamatra through your friend tighnari. you were a nature researcher who had moved to sumeru to learn more about avidya forest and its close by equivalents. and your old friend tighnari was the forest watcher at avidya. however soon introduced you to cyno.
you had originally only planned to spend 6 months in sumeru but the bountiful enviroments and the people you met meant you stayed longer than intended. and eventually you were offered a job in looking at nature in the desert of hadramaveth. it was a way away but you had high hopes for it. however cyno felt slightly differently. over the past months cyno had started developing what tighnari had to point out to him, a crush.
on the day you were to depart, you bid farewells and cyno watched you feeling uneasy at knowing you would be a long way away for a month. he wanted to go with you to ensure your safety (totally not to spend time with you) but he had his duties to attend to and you're expedition team was sure to make a safe trip there and back. however one day, a week before your expected return, there was an uproar in one of the akademiya's medical bay's. cyno thought nothing of it until he saw tighnari rushing over there and stopped him just to find out your expedition had been ultimately destroyed by a setekh wenut, which you had accidentally stumbled across.
cyno was furious that your safety was widely disregarded and the akademiya hadn't provided enough protection, but was ultimately relieved that you had survived. sure you were a bit worse for wear but you were alive, unlike a few expedition members. and in those moments that cyno visited you until you recovered he realised that if you were to die he would've been distraught he never confessed to you. but maybe soon he would.
wriothesley ★↷
you and wriothesley had a complicated relationship some might say. but to each other you were rival's. no doubt about you hated each other. you two would constantly try to one up the other or never fail to make a snarky remark if spotted in the same room. but sometimes the lines between rivalry and something else blurred as wriothesley sometimes couldn't help but find how adorable you looked when you were angry and to him that was just something to tease you with more.
sometimes the people of fontaine, especially older folks, would find your petty rivalries exhausting to witness. sometimes one of you would stoop to the lowest of the lows and find a way to 'prank the other' but that sometimes ends up looking like a children's squabble. a petty, ridiculous and downright tiring squabble.
however at the end of the day you both had jobs. very respectable jobs at that. and sometimes that did mean working with each other which meant that it would come to a unspoken agreement to not continue your rivalry in the workplace. but after a particular day of hardwork wriothesley had overheard a particular conversation from two fontaine citizens about how you had encountered a fatal accident with some fatui members. that made his blood run colder than his cryo vision. there's no way you would lose to some fatui members.. right? probably just gossip roaming the streets of fontaine. yeah that's it.
well it wasn't. he kept hearing about it more and more until he decided to go and see to these 'rumors' himself. so he went over to the medic's himself and asked if you were here and to his fear, you were. the rumors were true. in a moment of panic he demanded to see you but was told that you were still under observation and he could come back tomorrow and visit. so thats what he did.
as soon as he was allowed he went straight to see you, for reasons that escaped him. he gazed down at your bloody, slight frostbitten body and let out a sigh he didint know he was holding and preceded to let out all the unspoken feelings he had that were hidden behind snark comments and teasing actions. he knew you hadn't heard him but it felt good to get it out. he slowly raised your hand to his lips, and left.
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andersonsprincess · 2 months
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Clarisse La Rue - Lover
Characters: clarisse, demigod!reader
Contents: kissing, first 'i love you', brief mention of the battle of manhattan
Word count: ~440
a/n: i wrote this super early and i think its cute 😭
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it was a normal summer evening at camp half-blood. across the sound you could see the sun setting, the sky a beautiful swirl of oranges and pinks.
there you laid content in your girlfriends arms, hidden from the eyes of any lingering campers. your head laid on her chest hearing the rhythmic beating of her heart. the heart that had grown to adore you over the past 6 months.
6 months. an entire half-year since the battle of manhattan. the war may have ended but the scars formed from it would last a lifetime. literally and figuratively.
aside from that, the past few months for you and clarisse have been nothing short of wonderful. you loved her, she loved you...or at least you hope she did. the infamous 'l-word' has yet to be said between you two. it was just sort of an unspoken truth.
so there you lay in each other's arms watching the sun set. unbeknownst to her your head was spiraling with insecurity. did clarisse love you as much as you loved her? did she at all? why hadn't she said? she would've said it if she did right?
your thoughts started to consume you slowly but your mouth moved before you brain could process.
"i love you."
you didn't even notice clarisse was talking and you interrupted her. but she did look surprised.
"what was that?"
you turned around to look her in her eyes. "i love you, clarisse."
she didn't say much but you couldn't tell if her silence was from shock or repulsion.
"i-i'm sorry. just forget i said anything-"
your words seemed to bring clarisse out of, thankfully, shock. "no no that's not it i just - wasn't expecting you to say it first."
"what?"
she doesn't respond, instead, in a sudden movement, she kisses you. her lips seem softer than usual and all you can do is melt into the kiss as your own lips part, and the feelings that have been bubbling under her surface come to the front. you were hers, and she was yours - you knew that was the truth.
you try to pull away for a second to breathe but she chases your lips as she kisses you again. you place your hand her shoulder and she holds you waist. you grip onto her shoulder.
in a fit of confidence you pull away slightly and whisper against her lips, "mine."
she smirks and chuckles. "yeah i'm yours. and you are mine."
you sighed dreamily. "gods i am so in love with you, clarisse."
"and i you." she replied then kissed you once again.
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leclercss · 10 months
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Tainted Love, Part 2 (Charles Leclerc)
Part 1
Masterlist
plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing
authors note: thank you guys for the kind words on the first chapter. i'm hoping to make to make this around 7-10 parts depending on how my creativity is feeling. hope you enjoy the second part x
word count: 4.7k
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Your Uber has arrived at the address that Charles sent you and the feeling is starting to become very real. The idea of spending the night with any man other than Lewis is taking up 40% of your thoughts. The remaining 60% of your thoughts are thinking about how it will feel for Charles to kiss you again and to feel his touch on your body once more.
"Thanks so much for the lift and so sorry for the change of address," you tell the Uber driver. You climb out of the car and make a mental note to yourself to leave him a tip for his troubles.
As you make your way towards the door of the building, your thoughts go back to Charles. Are you being ridiculous for coming here? Was he really that into you? Was it desperate for you to change your mind and text him after you'd previously turned him down? And who was the "we" that he mentioned? Was it just some sort of after party that he was having? Or did he want to spend time with only you?
You're beginning to spiral.
You take a deep breath before punching in the number to his flat and wait for him to answer.
"Hey, door's open. Take the lift to the eighth floor".
It's Charles. You take a deep breath as he buzzes you in and you head towards the lift. Punching in floor number 8, a shiver runs down your spine as the building suddenly feels freezing for a late June in evening in London.
You tell yourself not to get cold feet now. You wanted this. You made some grumpy Uber driver take you to another area of London for this. Your body wanted this.
You hear some music playing on the other side as you stand in front of Charles’ apartment door accompanied by some French being thrown around. You couldn't make out the entire conversation. You had learnt French growing up but it'd been a while since you used it. And you weren't used to a Monegasque accent. But you think you can make out something about "the married one". They were talking about you.
You hear one of the voices getting closer to the front door and a second or two later the door is opened. You look at the person standing in front of you. Your heart skips a beat for a moment as you realise he's even more attractive than he was in the club.
"Hi Charles," you say softly. You try to smile but you're pretty sure the nerves you're experiencing are plastered across your face.
"Hi, [Y/N]," he replies. He smiles back at you. "I'm glad you came.” He steps to the side to let you in his apartment. "Come in".
As you enter, the music and the French conversations you had heard earlier get louder. Was he having some sort of afters?
"I live with a couple of my friends. We just came back here for a few drinks," it's like he’s read your mind. "Come on, join us for a few drinks". You feel his hand on the small of your back and a shiver runs through your spine once more at his slightest touch.
He leads you into the living room and you're greeted with a couple of faces you vaguely remember from the club. "You remember Hugo and Ricciardo from earlier right?"
They both wave at you. "Erm, yeah. Course," you lie out of politeness.
"I don't usually live here," the lighter haired one tells you. You've no idea which one he is. You think he's the one that made a comment about your husband being a lucky man when Stephanie told the group you were married. "But I thought I'd crash in Joris' room since he went back to your friend's place," he continues.
Whitney. You'd be interrogating her in the morning for details.
You feel Charles' hand move sightly further down your back. "Come on, I'll get you a drink in the kitchen," he says as he leans down towards your ear. The hand that was on your lower back takes your hand in his. You look up, smiling at him softly.
He leads you into the kitchen were he lets go of your hand to have a look in the fridge for something to drink. "So we've mostly got beer. Not sure if you're into that?" Charles calls out as he rummages through the fridge. "Oh! Actually, we've got wine. Do you like wine?" He peers at you over his shoulder and you nod.
Despite all of the alcohol you've consumed tonight, being in Charles' presence again and the thrill of turning up at his apartment has sobered you up. You feel like you need a drink to calm your nerves.
"Wine is perfect".
Your eyes follow him as he goes to the cupboard to get you a glass before pouring you a generous measure. You take the opportunity to check him out. He was just above average height. A couple of inches taller than you. He was slender but you noticed the muscle definition beneath his shirt. He definitely looked after himself. Your eyes finally landed on his fingers which were dotted with a number of different rings. You missed those fingers on your body.
"It's rude to stare you know," Charles chuckles as he snaps you out of your daze. You hadn't realised he had made his way over to you, holding two glasses of wine. He places a glass into your hand, your fingers touching.
"Thank you".
You clink your glasses together before uttering a "Cheers/Santé". You take a quick sip of your drink as your eyes meet Charles' over the top of your glass. Once you've taken a sip, you place the glass down on the counter. Charles does the same before he takes a step closer to you. He reaches towards your shoulders to remove your handbag and places it on the counter behind you. He takes another step closer to you, his face a few centimetres away from yours. His breath lightly hitting your face.
"So, what made you change your mind?" he asks you, he's waiting to see how you react. You take another sip of your wine before you decide to answer his question, earning a chuckle from Charles.
"I decided that my night wasn't done," you reply as your eyes meet again. "We didn't get to finish our dance from earlier," a reference to your earlier text to Charles.
He grins at your response. "And you couldn't finish dancing at home?" You know he's referring to your husband. He doesn't have to say it for you to understand.
You tilt your head to the side slightly before responding, "I've danced at home before. Wanted to try something new."
"And am I that something new?"
The tension in the kitchen is building as Charles' face is closer to yours than before. "I'd like to think so," you utter. You haven't broken eye contact for a while now. And it's only a matter of seconds before you feel Charles' hands on you again. He moves a strand of hair away from your face before softly tucking it behind your ear. His hand then lowers to your cheek while the other finds its way to your side, just below your breast.
"Well I'm glad you're open to trying," his voice is so smooth it melts in your ears like butter. He's confident, like he's played this game before. "I'd definitely like to show you a few things".
The tingle that you felt in your underwear from before has returned. This time accompanied with some dampness. You notice Charles is still looking at you, as if he's waiting for you to make the first move this time.
The two sips of wine have helped boost your courage, God bless alcohol, and you lean in. Your lips meet and this time there's no hesitation as you move your lips against his. You arms find their way around his neck and you take no time in pushing your tongue into his mouth softly.
The kiss is passionate and the longer it goes on the closer your bodies become. He lightly pushes you against the counter top as the hand that's below your breast now lowers towards the bottom of your dress before he pushes it beneath the hem. His other hand now finds itself lightly wrapped around your neck. The dampness is continuing to grow in your underwear. Fuck, it's definitely been a while since you've felt this horny if you're starting to get this wet so quickly.
That feeling of horniness doesn't slow down as the hand that Charles has slipped under the hem of your dress makes its way further up towards your panties. He doesn't even need to ask you to open your legs, your body voluntarily does it for him.
Your hand fits its way to the back of his head and you grip onto his hair lightly as you feel his hand move across to your underwear. Your tongues still deep in one another's mouths until you let out a soft moan as you feel Charles' finger run over the outside of your panties, applying a little pressure as his fingers runs over your slit.
You can feel him smile triumphantly as he's still kissing you. "Someone's a little excited". His voice is laced with smugness. If it was anyone else it would be a turn off but with Charles it seems to spur you on even more.
He breaks the kiss as he moves his lips along along your jaw line. Your head tilts backwards as another moan escapes your lips. He moves his lips to just below your ear where he nibbles on your skin before making his way up to your ear.
"Were you thinking about me on the way here?" he asks but you're too into the feeling of him touching you down below that you don't answer. "I asked you a question". His voice is more commanding this time, causing you to open your eyes. He's already staring at you, waiting for you to respond.
You nod at him. Fuck, you hadn't felt this submissive to a guy since earlier in your relationship with Lewis. It's been so long since a guy had fucked you senseless that you didn't know how to respond.
"Were you thinking about what it would be like for me to touch you?" He's enjoying this, you're putty in his his hands and he's enjoying every second of it. You don't know how but you're even wetter than before.
But you don't want him to have all of the fun, so you reach out for the bulge that's growing in his pants and give it a squeeze. This time it's his mouth that the moan escapes from.
"I wanted to know what this felt like," you purr into his ear and you're pretty sure you feel him become harder in your hand.
"Where do you want to feel it?" He's trying to regain some sort of control and so he slips two fingers past your panties and into your folds as he begins to rub your clit.
You bit your lip as he try not to moan again but it's becoming harder not to. "In my hands and my mouth," your lip trembles as you answer his question. You're surprising yourself with how much you're enjoying this. For it being the first time you would sleep with someone other than your husband in over six years, you're pretty good at it. But it's the next four words that leave your mouth that surprise you the most, "and in my pussy".
You're not sure if the noice that leaves your mouth is a hiss or a moan as you feel Charles plunge the two fingers that have been rubbing your clit into your pussy. "Shit, Charles!" you gasp as you grip onto his shirt to stop your legs from going from beneath you. You can't look away from his eyes as he start to build some momentum with his fingers.
"Just like that?" he teases you. "You want me to touch you right here?” His thumb now finds its way to your clit. You manage a nod as you find yourself clawing at his chest.
"I want to hear you say it," his voice is getting deeper as the tension is building.
"Yes," you pant. "Just like that, Charles".
The two of you are so lost in the moment. You try to maintain eye contact with him but your eyes are attempting to shut from the pleasure you're feeling. Your vagina is practically throbbing in Charles' hands.
You have forgotten that Charles had other company until one of his friends (Hugo and Ricciardo is what you've been told but this is one with darker hair) innocently walks into the kitchen to grab another drink.
"Shit! Sorry!" he cries as he looks away from the sight of Charles' fingers deep inside you in their kitchen. "Thought you guys were just getting a drink".
You feel your cheeks turn red from embarrassment as you've been caught red handed. But Charles doesn't seem too phased. He's joking with his friend, telling him to "fuck off" in French (that part of French you definitely remember).
His friend says something about getting a beer but Charles is busy so he'll just grab one for Hugo and himself. You've been too embarrassed to engage in the conversation so you've spent the time fiddling with one of the buttons on Charles' shirt.
Once his friend (so that was Ricciardo) has left the kitchen, Charles lifts your chin up so you're looking into his eyes again. "Sorry about that, looks like we got a bit caught up in the moment," you're not sure how he can sound so sweet while he still has his fingers inside of you. "Why don't we got to my room? No chance of them walking in on us there."
"Yeah, sure".
You instantly miss the feeling of Charles' fingers inside of you as he pulls them out before fixing your dress. You each grab your glasses of wine as Charles takes your hand in his and leads you towards his bedroom. Thankfully you manage to avoid bumping into his friends so you don't have to look them in the eye after one of the just saw you being fingered by their friend.
Charles opens a door which you're assuming is his bedroom. As he's about turn the light on, you hear one of his friends call his name from the living room.
"What?" he calls out.
The response you can't quite make out but Charles let's out a little huff before handing you his glass of wine. "I'll just be a minute. Let me deal with these two quickly".
You give him a reassuring smile as he places a kiss on your forehead before going back down the hall. You take the opportunity to have a little look around his room. His room is dark due to the late night but the lights from the street softly filter into his room. You can see the outline of some pictures on his wall. A vintage Ferrari car, a print of the Monaco GP. He's clearly into motor sports. You walk towards the window and look towards the view of the City and Canary Wharf in the distance.
You've been too occupied by the view and having a nosey around Charles' room that you don't hear him come in until you feel his body lightly press against you from behind. You jump a little earning a laugh from Charles.
"Sorry for scaring you, the guys should leave us alone now," he tells you as he takes his glass of wine out of your hand. He takes a sip, eyes firmly on yours before taking your free hand in his.
"Have you been enjoying the view?" he asks you. You're sure he's talking about the view outside but he's hinting towards himself as well.
"Yeah, it's not bad," you say as you lick your lips. "That Monaco GP poster is pretty impressive". You both chuckle at your light teasing.
"Yeah? Well maybe one day I'll get to take you. We can watch it from one of my friends' places back home," he tells you. He places his glass of wine on the window sill so he can cup your face in his hands. His fingers are laced in your hair and he's staring at your lips like he's ready to kiss you again.
"I'd like that," you whisper. You too placing your glass of wine on the window sill before you place a hand on Charles' cheek, the other on his chest, running your fingers across the bare skin that peaks through his top buttons which he's left undone.
You inhale before leaning in to kiss him. This time the kiss is sweet, it feels so delicate and intimate. Your touch is delicate too as you're both just enjoying the feeling of each other.
He gently pulls your bottom lip between his teeth before lightly kissing your lips. Your whole body is starting to tingle at the intimacy, something you've been missing for so long.
"I'm glad you came," his voice is barely a whisper. His hands start to roam the rest of your body. His touch is sexual but mostly intimate. He doesn't need to rip your clothes off, you're here now and he's going to take his time with pleasuring you.
"I'm glad I came too," you whisper. Your head tilting back as Charles' moves his kisses towards your jaw line, slowly down the side of your neck before making his way towards your throat.
"I want to feel your lips all over me," you tell him. You don't care if it sounds desperate because the anticipation growing inside of you is starting to become desperate.
Charles obeys your gentle order and makes his way down towards your collar bones, softly sucking and nibbling on your skin as his fingers make their way to the straps of your dress. He slowly pulls them down over your shoulders as he soothes your now bare skin with his fingers. A whimper leaves your lips.
He continues his movement downwards as he tugs at the material around your chest, lightly yanking it down to reveal your large breasts. He smiles to himself at the sight before him. "Where have you been hiding these?" he chuckles and you can't help but giggle as he starts to massage them.
He's clearly enjoying fondling your breasts but you want his lips on you again and so you place your hand on the back of his head so you can move it towards your body. He knows what you're looking for and so he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, soothing it as it starts to become swollen and sensitive in his mouth. He makes sure to pay attention to your other nipple, massaging it with his thumb.
Your fingers find its way into his hair as you lightly grab onto it. Your eyes shut and your lips are lightly parted from the pleasure.
After enjoying playing with your boobs, Charles can feel his jeans become tighter and more restricted and he's ready to up the intimacy.
"[Y/N], I want you to lie down on the bed," his voice is once again so soft and delicate. You nod as you pass him to get to the bed. You sit down on the edge before laying back, your dress still covering your lower half. You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can watch Charles as he kneels in front of you. He slowly begins to pull your dress down along with your underwear, leaving you completely naked. You feel a little vulnerable, you haven't been this exposed to another man for so long that you feel a little self conscious.
But Charles is giving you no reason to feel that way as he slides your heels off your feet before making his way back up to your legs. He places a hand behind one of your knees before throwing your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to the area he wants the most.
His mouth is wet as he places sloppy kisses along your thighs before running a single finger between your slit. You're so wet it's almost embarrassing. Charles makes sure your eyes are connected with his before he leans in and places a long, slow lick along your slit.
"Oh fuck," you let out as you lightly grab the bed sheets.
"I've been waiting to taste you all night," you practically flinch at the hot air between your legs. "And it looks like you've been waiting for it too".
You nod, you can barely string a word together unless it's some profanity. He doesn't wait for an answer as he places another long, slow lick on your slit again. This time he doesn't stop to hear you moan. He pushes two of his fingers through your slit to open you up in a scissoring motion so he can get the access he needs before he starts licking your pussy.
"Ohh... Charles!"
As Charles' tongue continues to lap up your juices, the two fingers holding you open make their way further down as he pushes them inside you. His movement inside of you is slow at first, he wants to tease you for as long as possible. But your impatience wins as you lightly close your thighs around his head for him, signalling for him to speed up. Your pussy is practically throbbing for him.
He begins to lick and suck every part of you that he can reach with his mouth as the pace of his fingers picks up.
"Charles, fuck, just like that". You throw your head back in ecstasy, you can no longer maintain eye contact as your eyes shut so you can enjoy the sensation Charles is giving you down below. One of your hands grabs onto his hair as you basically shove his face into your vagina but he doesn't complain. It's easier access for him and he takes every opportunity to increase the amount of pleasure he's giving you.
"Do you like that, baby?" His voice is muffled against you.
"Yes! Oh god, yes!" You really sound desperate now but who could blame you? He's so good at this.
His pace is now relentless and you're not sure how much longer you can handle this before you end up squirting all over his face. The sounds leaving your mouth are now rolling into one long moan and your thighs are beginning to twitch around him.
"Fuck, if you keep it up like this I'm going to cum all over your face," you plead.
His eyes glisten as they look up at you. Satisfied with the mess he's creating in front of him. "I'd have no complaints," his voice vibrates against you once again but he's finished up with is assault on you. You're panting heavily.
As he uses his elbow to lift himself up, you notice that his lips and facial hair are drenched in your juices. He doesn't seem to mind though.
You hadn't noticed he was completely clothed still until he begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned chest. You can't help yourself as you reach out and delicately run your fingers along his torso.
He stares down at you as he begins to take off his belt and jeans. He climbs back onto the bed and places his knees either side of your head as you instinctively reach out and begin to tug at the band of his boxers. Your hand wraps around his dick instantly, hard and fully erect.
Your movements are slow but with intent as you stare up at him and you're about to put him into your mouth but Charles has other ideas.
"No," he says with intent. "Tonight it's all about you". He shuffles back down the bed and places himself between your legs which are still open for him. He rubs his cock a few times before leaning over to place a wet, passionate kiss on your mouth.
You can taste your juices from before. They taste sweet and Charles is clearly enjoying his lips on yours again as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Missing the feel of him, you join him in rubbing his shaft and continue to stroke him until he's ready.
Once he's ready to be inside of you, he leans back on his heels and rubs his throbbing cock between your folds a few times, causing you both to moan simultaneously.
"Charles, I want you inside of me," it's barely a whisper but you've spent so much of your night thinking about this moment that you can't wait any longer. He doesn't hesitate as he pushes himself inside of you. He lets out a soft moan as he feels you wrap around him.
His first few movements are slow, allowing you both to get used to each other before he starts to build up his pace. The only sounds you can hear is your skin slapping against each other along with your soft whimpers.
That soon changes as Charles' speed and rhythm picks up and he's soon fucking you with some momentum.
"Oh my god, Charles," you've said this so many times tonight but you don't care. Not when he's making you feel like this. He's fucking you harder now as if he's trying to fuck you into the bed. You grab onto any part of him that you can, clawing your nails into his back. You wrap your legs around his waist so he can be closer to you.
He brings you even closer together as he starts to kiss you again. It's sloppy and wet, the complete opposite to the intent of the movements he's making with his hips. You try to maintain the kiss but you're a moaning mess. You haven't been fucked like this in so long and it feels so good, it's almost euphoric.
"Charles, this feels so good," you cry as you hold his face in your hands. "Fuck, [Y/N], you feel so good". He's starting to sound desperate too.
He feels like he's losing his control as he can feel his core tighten with pleasure. He places his hand around your throat and continues to fuck you even harder into the mattress. You really hope his friends are still playing music in the living room as the cry you let out is animalistic.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm so close," you cry and you wrap your legs around him even tighter. Holding onto him for dear life as his rhythm starts to become sloppy, he's getting closer too.
"Ah shit, [Y/N], I'm going to cum any minute".
His hand is still around your throat as he leans down to kiss you again. He wants his mouth on yours as you cum for him. And it only takes another thirty seconds before you're moaning into his mouth and reaching your orgasm.
Charles' moans are becoming louder and more frequent as his movements become even sloppier.
"Where do you want me to cum?" he asks you, panting heavily.
"On my chest".
It only takes him another five thrusts before he's pulling out of you and stroking himself above you. Your hand finds it's way to his cock once more to help him finish and soon his cum is landing on your boobs and chest.
He makes sure he's given you all he has before he collapses onto the bed beside you. You both lay there for a minute or two, trying to catch your breath. Your legs are still trembling slightly and you miss the feeling of him.
It's like he reads your mind as he pulls your body against his. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you onto his chest so he can place a kiss on your forehead.
"That was nice, huh?" You can't help but giggle at his accent.
"Are you laughing at me?" he cries out and you find yourself laughing even harder. You place your hand on his cheek as you look down at him.
"No, it's your accent. I love it," you tell him. "And that was amazing".
You lean down and place soft kiss on his lips. You lay there for a few minutes just placing soft kisses on each other. It feels romantic and as your lips move so intimately against his, you don't realise how this night will change everything.
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mindflayer-inc · 3 months
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Batman Story Idea: Tim as an ""Antagonist""
Now, this doesn't mean Tim is evil, or is even trying to hurt Dick or Bruce.
However, after Jason dies and Tim is helping Buce not absolutely spiral, he gets in his head that Joker needs to die. Not just for revenge, though that is part of it, but because Joker will keep hurting Dick and Bruce. Logically speak, Tim is the next target and who knows what crazy scheme the Joker will have.
So, Tim gets Joker out of jail. The Joker of course is unknowing about who helped him get out, but it wouldn't be the first time (or the last) that some crime boss busted him out to keep Bats busy. More fun for him!
Joker does Joker things and gets sent back to Arkham.
So, Tim busts him out again. And again. And again...
Ok, new plan since the Joker won't actually provoke Batman enough. Tim is going to frame the Joker (really well even). Anytime a kid gets killed? Joker. Abducted? Joker. Someone stalking outside of a school? Eyewitness reports seeing someone in clown make-up.
In retrospect it's really easy to make fake videos and posts of people talking about how they saw the Joker here or there. Maybe people will just believe anything they want to believe.
Tim would even know the little details about the Joker that could make this work. Tim makes a video from the perspective of a random passerby, with a voice clip of the Joker laughing.
Batman would take the bait rather easily. Not only because of Jason's death but because the Joker is free and this is the sort of thing might do to taunt Batman.
So what gets Tim caught? Well, the Joker doesn't find it funny (well, he does, but he doesn't want to admit it). After a while the Joker starts to realize that someone is playing him. Not only that, but Batman says just weird things sometimes. Stalking outside of a school? Those voice clips on the news? Someone is framing him! Damn, he couldn't have been downtown Gotham that day, he was abducting scientist for his next Robin project (killing a Robin was fun, turning a Robin into a son to kill Batman? The laughs will be to die for!).
So, the Joker sets a trap. He starts telling different types of jokes during different heists. Batman gets the dead baby jokes (right out of 2003) cause you know, bats dead baby, but other times he will tell other jokes.
Joker realizes the voice clips on the news are from his dealings with Batman. Surely Batman isn't framing him, no, no, that isn't his style. Besides , Bats doesn't have a sense of humor and the Joker has to admit that this is kind of funny, though amateurish. Perhaps the first boy blunder? Eh, doesn't feel right. There is that newest birdie, but why? He should be thankful to the Joker, the position only opened up because of him! Ugh, maybe giving the Riddler a call is in order...
====
Main Characters: Tim Drake and Joker
Riddler gets a chapter but doesn't want to help the Joker (dude is weird af). He eventually figures out that Robin must be the one framing Joker and just loves that Batman hasn't seemed to figure it out yet.
Batman might kill Joker, a la The Killing Joke style. Joker tells a joke after everything is said and done and Batman breaks his one rule (hey movie batman gets to, a lot). He didn't believe that someone is framing Joker, at least at first, but things didn't add up so maybe he doesn't kill Joker. Idk.
Probably won't have a happiest endings between Bruce, Dick, and Tim. Like, Tim wouldn't be allowed to be a Robin... But Jason/Red Hood thought Tim was amazing, so he takes him under his wing.
If Tim can manipulate Batman into killing Joker, Jason is gonna love Tim. Absolute little brother/10! Though his whole plan to fuck with Batman went out the window, but still, Joker is dead and Tim fucked with Bruce better than he ever would have!
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ceranovis · 4 months
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So... the thing that IMMEDIATELY stood out to me in Fit's Dec 30th lore stream was the use of the nocom heatmap:
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Like this is the exact version if the heatmap Fit uses in his 2b2t vid about the nocom exploit (which is a wild story in itself, please watch it if you haven't before).
But some musing about how nocom might be connected to the lore (which quickly spiralled into some theories about Madagio, the 2 Cucuruchos, and the eggs):
Nocom was an exploit that tracked players in real time, predict their movements, and allowed remote spying on physical changes to locations. Madagio being drawn in by the remenant signal of that could just be a nod to their interest in finding ways to collect information and why they would find Fit suitable for the job.
HOWEVER-- Nocom was built on a Papermc vulnerability that meant it could also work on other multiplayer servers that run it. While nocom was patched on 2b2t, that doesn't mean other servers have patched the vulnerability & the source code has been released by the creators. So Madagio could have been interested in going to 2b2t to get ahold of nocom to use on Quesadilla island so it could uncover the "secrets [it] must have at all costs"-- their POV when tracking down fit shows entity lines so they clearly have some tracking ability/tool.
Maybe they got the nocom code, but found they couldn't use it yet. It's been mentioned before that Fit tried hack clients on QSMP but they didn't work, and exploits get fixed pretty quickly to keep the server stable. Madagio said the only way onto thr island at the time was the Federation train-- presumably the Federation had thing heavily locked down and Madagio wouldn't be able to enter or run any sort of exploit.
2b2t's nocom was made possible because of social engineering-- Madagio could have hired Fit to collect information so it could find a way to successfully manipulate holes into the Federation's security and get onto the island/run nocom.
In the Dec 21st QSMP Info stream, Dark Cucurucho seems to be looking for something the Federation has hidden, and demands Cucurucho tell him where it is. Maybe Madagio is looking for the same thing? Nocom would theoretically allow someone to find hidden facilities/people anywhere on the server.
Where Dark Cucurucho seems tied to the Nether, and Cucurucho the overworld, its becomes pretty notable that Madagio has Fit go through a giant Ender portal.
Madagio being tied to the End also has some interesting implications if you think about the (ender?) dragon that supposedly inhabited the island & created the eggs. While the federation claimed the dragon left when the wall was blown up, there's no actual evidence it was there at the time. Perhaps Madagio is the dragon.
Fans seem to be interpretting the "i am a god" anagram of Madagio literally, which could fit with the ender dragon being a sort of godly being presiding over the End dimension.
BUT it may not be a literal dragon-- the eggs seem to be some sort of science experiements, so what if the anagram is a reference to a scientist playing god?
Maybe Madagio literally created the eggs from End-realm-DNA or something before fleeing/being kicked off Quesadilla, and the dragon story is just what the Federation made up to explain the eggs without having to bring up Madagio.
Maybe the experiements that led to the eggs were about opening up inter-server travel? Madagio said whatever made it leave Quesadilla also gave it server-hopping powers (powers which seems similar in reach to the Federation's ability to pull people to the island/send workers to other places).
The Federation can block interdimensional travel too-- we saw that with the Nether, which the residents eventually broke through with the train bug, implying hacks/bugs are needed to bypass Federation security.
Dark Cucurucho told Forever it wanted to leave, desired freedom, and that the Federation didn't want it to have that. Maybe the thing Dark is looking for is the thing that Madagio created that allows for interdimensional travel, which the Federation stole.
I think the only non-Federation example of cross-server travel we've seen is with the Watcher/Purgatory, but it may have actually been Dark Cucurucho who enabled that, not the Watcher. Aside from Dark being the one to give the residents their tickets to Purgatory via the dice game, Cucurucho claimed the recent security vulnerabilities were due to Dark, so maybe Dark found an exploit that allowed for limited interdimenisonal travel-- if it's tied to the creation of eggs somehow, maybe that's why there were 3 new eggs found on Egg Island?
The Unknown Egg diary Cellbit found could potentially be connected to Dark Cucurucho leaving & making contact with the Watcher prior to the purgatory arc, given the timing (about a month after the residents broke open the Nether, which may have created a door for Dark to get to the overworld despite Federation security and set things in motion). Maybe Cucurucho sent Cellbit to investigate because it suspected Dark was up to something? Cellbit assumed the egg's fate was the Federation's doing, but why would they send him to investigate it then? Maybe it was Dark making a cheap immitation of the Federation adoption center so it could travel, and then abandoning the egg once it had what it wanted?
Cucurucho also said that Dark didn't understand the potential of the eggs, which could explain why Dark would only be able to achieve limited travel.
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fluffysucker · 4 months
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Bad Things
Bucky Barnes x Reader
TW: Violence. Fighting. Brief mention of torture. Steve is alive and well.
The only way out was to awake them. And you did.
A/n: Heavily influenced by oxytocin by Billie Eilish. No like you will find lyrics throughout. Listen to it while reading, please.
Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me.
Main Masterlist
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You were sure that if you weren't driving the motorcycle, your legs would be bouncing, your hands would be shaking, and your palms would be sweating. But you were focusing on the road ahead despite feeling like you were driving on autopilot. You may not look like it, but you were a mess. Internally, at least. Anxity from the plan, danger of the situation, horrors from flashbacks, and uncertainty of the results. You were bitting your lips that you were close to feeling the metallic-tasting liquid on your tongue.
The darkness that grew, the further you got close to the agreed upon location, wasn't helping either. For someone who did this for a lifetime, you were spiraling. You wished you could cancel everything and come up with something different, but you couldn't.
Can't take it back once it's been set in motion.
You started to regulate your breath, take control of your mind, and keep your heartbeats in check once you saw the warehouse. It was now. There was no going back.
You stopped the motorcycle abruptly, causing the sand and dust around you to fly away. You took one last breath before taking the helmet out.
You got up and steadied your posture. The suit was never comfortable on your skin. Today, you felt like it was crawling on your skin, trying to devour you. You hid the suffocating feeling and put the act into action.
If you only pray on Sunday,
Could you come my way on Monday?
Confidence and peril were displayed. A strenuous look on your face. You were back in her.
"I thought you weren't coming." His voice annoyed you so much that you wanted to cut his throat open.
"I gave you a word, didn't I?" You came to a stop with enough distance between you and him. Even your voice was different in your ears.
"It's not like you had many choices." His laugh sent shivers through your body that you were able to hide.
"I always believed in your intelligence, moon." You pulled your hands into fists to stop any visible reaction from coming out of you.
The name was only associated with corruption and cruelty. Something the man in front of you strived for.
"With both of your capabilities, we will go back to the top of the world." The evil smile was more telling of his intentions than his disturbing words.
With the mere mention of him, you felt the air get thicker, the wind blowing harder, the stars dimming their lights, and the rocks and pebbles shaking on the floor.
He was here.
"Great. We didn't have to wait long for him." The man almost clapped in excitement.
In the sea of the darkness of the night and the void you were in, he appeared. His black suit made him almost unseen in the darkness of the night. But his heavy footsteps made him known.
The golden in his arm reflecting the light of the stars and the mask covering all his face except the eyes were making him even more fearful.
In person, he was much more terrifying than the stories and myths.
However, the crazy man didn't think so.
"Would you look at that?" He said once that the two of you were standing next to each other. You wanted to hold his hand, seeking any sort of comfort and reassurance, but you knew it would blow out your act.
"The Winter Soldier and Wicked Moon. Together and back at their home."
Dugal, the man speaking, had been the bane of your existence for some time now. Every mission, every warehouse, every file, and every piece of evidence all trailed back to him.
The manic, who had been obsessed with bringing Hydra back to life,.
With the right allies and calculated steps, he was able to achieve most of his plans in secret, but why show yourself now? Why draw attention to you now?
Because it was time to get Hydra's greatest weapons back.
You and your husband.
You and Sergeant James Barnes
Wicked Moon and The Winter Soldier.
You and Bucky shared the same life. Kidnapped by Hydra, injected with the serum, erased and brainwashed, trained to maximum efficiency. You reached levels of skills that were unmatched.
Despite the different start, you and Bucky were the faces of the same coin.
You were taken a bit after Bucky. Hydra had the goal of making both of you into its lethal duo. Unbeatable and unpredictable. You and Bucky became the ghost story for decades. Never once seen or traced.
You were a myth that terrified all.
And for decades, you spent all your days with Bucky, or who you called soldier at a time, because you didn't know his real name. Nor did he know yours, and he called you Moon.
You shared a cell. You trained together. You were sent on missions together. You were tortured together. You were used to each other's screams and pains. You were the same person in many ways.
While Hydra was blinded and happy with your success rate and obedience, they failed to notice the deep connection that was forming between the two of you.
The comfort you found in each other. The conversations without words. The accustomedness. The long eye contact and gaze The gentle touches that only you provided each other with. The worry and panic if one went on solo missions.
You understood each other. You trusted each other. You empathized with each other. You prayed for each other's freedom.
You loved each other.
So, looking at Bucky with questioning and worried eyes above Steve Roger's unconscious body after you disobeyed the direct orders of eliminating Steve and following Bucky to save him from death by drowning, Bucky knew he could never leave you. He took your hand and ran away.
Other people wouldn't stay
Other people don't obey
You and me are both the same
You should really run away
It was a long and bumpy road. Gaining back your memories and learning how to live. But you held each other's hands. And in the face of all the hardships, you stood together.
You fought it all until you finally settled into your shared apartment in Brooklyn. Almost ten years after escaping Hydra.
You thought life was finally good. You knew who you were. You got back your identities. You were healing bit by bit. You finished therapy and were officially pardoned. You were allowed on missions, but more importantly, you were allowed to turn down missions. A luxury you and Bucky never had.
You were so happy for Bucky, who got to have his bestfriend back, Steve, and make a new one, Sam. You were happy that one of you could have someone, especially after finding out that you had nobody, which made you the perfect target for Hydra in the first place.
But being the good people they were, Steve and Sam instantly took you in like family. They could easily tell how much you meant to Bucky. Even from the first day. Whether on the bridge or in Bucharest, The uncontrolled urge to protect you despite being perfectly capable of looking after yourself. The care and admiration in his eyes whenever you were around or your name was mentioned. All and more signs that exposed Bucky's feelings for you.
They were more than happy when Bucky told them that you got married on the very long, overdue vacation that you went on.
You were everything to Bucky's. His love. His life. His rescue. His salvation. You were his reason to keep going.
While he felt bad that you had to go through the tough life you had, he couldn't imagine how his life would have looked if he had never met you.
So when the danger of Hydra taking you away from him arose with Dugal's appearance, Bucky almost lost his mind.
Dugal seemed insistent on taking you and Bucky back. He was destroying places, terrorizing, and hurting innocent people. Dugal heard you were trying to be good people, so he played on your conscience. He was pushing you and Bucky towards this moment. The moment you caved and gave up. The moment you returned to Hydra.
So, with his knife on Cass's neck, you surrendered. You promised to meet him and do whatever he wanted. And you promised to bring Bucky as well. He wanted the both of you.
And you listened.
Here you were. In the suits you thought you would never put on again. Triggering the two people you buried so deeply within. In front of the warehouse of an enemy, you fought for and against your whole lives.
"This is your home. This is your purpose. Not fake heroism. You were made to serve the greater good. To protect and serve Hydra." Dugal's voice made its way to your ears.
"You belong to Hydra. And Hydra only."
'Cause as long as you're still breathing
Don't you even think of leaving
Not gonna wanna look away, look away, look away
You're gonna wanna get involved, involved, involved
And what would people say, people say, people say
If they listen through the wall, the wall, the wall?
You kept the stoic expression on your face, refusing to let him see the effect his words had on you.
The door of the warehouse opened, and walking out of it were Dugal's two trusted men that you saw everywhere with him. Nedward and Alexios. They stopped behind him.
Following them, hundreds of agents came out of the warehouse. They surrounded you and Bucky in seconds. You looked at Dugal, confused.
"I want to make sure you are still the best. I want to know where to pick up from." His smile was wicked and filled with bad intentions.
"Call it a test. A test of Wicked Moon and The Winter Soldier's abilities." His wicked smile wasn't flattering.
You got into a fighting position quickly, not willing to lose this. You felt Bucky take position, too, his back turning to you. You were back-to-back, moving in slow circles, assisting the situation.
And once the first agent threw the punch, it was nonstop.
I can see it clear as day
You don't really need a break
Wanna see what you can take
You should really run away
While the agents largely outnumbered you, they were at a disadvantage. You and Bucky fought like one. You had a never-seen-before fight style. You designed it so that you used each other's strengths to the full and utilized the weaknesses as power points. You used your full bodies in fighting. You were familiar with each other's bodies and movements. You grabbed weapons that were strapped to the other's suit. You twisted around each other to reach as many targets as possible. You trained until you perfected it. No flaws. No mistakes. No room for lacunas.
It didn't take long before the last agent was down on the floor. You felt like it was harder to breathe. There was a ringing noise in your ears. Your hand wanted to start shaking. Tears were rushing to your eyes. You were having a panic attack.
Memories of missions and assignments you did throughout your life It all looked like this. You standing above the fallen, waiting for your destiny to be decided by an evil organization that thought of you as an object of killing.
Dugal's voice gave you a sense of where you were and the situation around you. Quickly, you pushed your emotions inside and regained your focus. A trait you learned from your days at Hydra. Human emotions were never well accepted by Hydra.
You shook your head as you looked at Dugal, who was clapping slowly.
"Excellent. Great job." He moved a bit towards the both of you.
"It seems you haven't changed. Still the best." You succeeded in his test.
"You did cost me all the agents in the base. But we will bring more." Dugal was proud of the two assets.
"So it's only us in here?" You were hoping to get a specific answer.
"Yes. Tomorrow, I will bring agents and recruiters. Also, scientists who know how to treat and handle great weapons like you. This will be Hydra's biggest base." Dugal seemed excited for his plan.
However, once the words left his mouth, chaos erupted everywhere.
Bucky caught the shield in his hand as Sam and Steve landed on the ground and attacked Dugal. You and Bucky moved to Nedward and Alexios. Each taking on one.
Cars and vehicles appeared everywhere, lighting up the deserted place.
This was the plan all along.
No matter how much time passed, Hydra's men would always have something in common. They were arrogant. They had an ego big enough for an entire population. And that made them stupid. That made them vulnerable to mistakes.
You and Bucky knew that more than anyone. So the plan was to trick Dugal with your alliance until he was defenceless. It was risky, but it worked.
You only let go of Alexios once handcuffs were secured around his wrists. Same with Bucky and Nedward. You turned to see Sam and Steve holding Dugal until Torres handcuffed him.
"You think you won?" His words were more direct towards you and Bucky.
"You think you can ever escape this? You think you can be free? You are delusional. Hydra will never die." Dugal continued. Torres handcuffed him, letting Steve through him in one of the more armored cars and strapping him more.
"Cut off one head; two more shall take its place. Hail HYDRA!"
Steve closed the door of the car.
They weren't planning to cut off one head. They were planning to burn down the whole bunch. No mercy. No stopping until they were all gone.
Once his voice was muted and you couldn't see him anymore, you couldn't hold up any longer. You sat on the ground, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to get hold of yourself, trying to reconnect, trying to disassociate from what just happened.
Like you, immediately after the car started to move, Bucky threw the mask off his face, finally breathing. He hated everything about this mask. Trapped like an animal behind it. Deprived of any form of humanity.
He prayed he never had to put on again.
"You okay?" Sam asked his friend, worried about the mental toll this whole act may have had on him.
Despite having his nephews being the ones in danger, Sam was against this plan. He cared about you and Bucky dearly and didn't want to know how stepping back into your assassin personas would hurt your healing. You had come a long way.
While your quick response to save his nephews and willingness to do this for them touched his heart immensely, Sam couldn't help but feel like they should come up with something else.
But both of you insisted, and it worked, but was the cost expensive?
Bucky nodded. They were okay physically, at least.
Bucky turned around to see you still sitting on the sandy ground, face in hand. He knew it wasn't just today, but the whole thing. Hydra still haunted you, messing with your progress. He understood.
Bucky sat on the ground next to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling into him and letting you lay in his laps, both of your legs on the side of his thigh. You nuzzled into his neck, holding his gear in your hand. You wanted to disappear in him.
"It's over. You're fine. You are okay. You are safe." Bucky's voice whispered in your ears, the end of his long hair touching your face and his hands wrapping up your back and waist.
You felt the tension leaving your body a bit by bit, making yourself only focus on Bucky's voice and letting yourself breathe. You knew you were surrounded by people, but you didn't care.
You only cared about Bucky right now.
You moved away from Bucky so you could look at him.
"We are okay. We are safe." You said to Bucky.
Because you cared about Bucky more than you cared about yourself. You loved Bucky more than anything. Bucky was the reason you were still alive. Bucky was your everything.
You wanted him to know that he was okay, too. You both survived this. You weren't back in that cell. You were going to your home.
Being the good-hearted person he was, Bucky always felt responsible for you. Even when he was the Winter Soldier. That's how the spark between you kindled. His instincts to protect you and care for you took a big part of him. And that made you fall deeper in love with him.
But you loved him just as much, if not more. You wanted to protect him from the hell you went through. Because he didn't deserve it. None of it.
The bigger burden of today wasn't the possibility of falling back into your old selves. It was the possibility of losing your partner to Hydra and watching them lose themselves once again.
You both came in with one goal. Protect each other to death.
And you succeeded. You were fine.
Bucky looked at you with love pouring out of his eyes. Bucky didn't understand how, after so much evil, he was still able to feel such strong emotions of love and adoration. But you melted him and lived in his heart. You were printed on his soul.
He nodded with a smile. You were okay. He leaned in and kissed you. It was a slow and gentle kiss. A reminder that you were both still yourselves. You were free. You were okay.
"Let's go home." You spoke once the kiss broke.
Home. Bucky was going home to the city he grew up in. He was going home to a place he had chosen to live. He was going home, where he would take a shower and lay on a comfortable bed. Bucky was going with his wife. Bucky was going to hold on as you both got rid of the remains of tonight. Bucky was going to hold you as you both drifted to sleep, dreaming of your future together.
Hydra didn't win. You were okay.
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sunny-mercya · 10 months
Text
Precious Darling
Poly! Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Male Reader
Fandom -> Scream 1996
Masterlist
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Even though it was movie friday, another round of various horrofilms—in between just about two normal like movies—as always for the friday nights. Snacks, drinks and Pizza taking over most of the coffeetable space.
Whilst you cuddled against Billy, who sat a bit cramped on the left side of the couch—legs propped up against the ottoman, arm slung around you—Stu leaned against you, head on your shoulders and his whole body laying on the couch, taking over the most space, legs dangling over the arm edges.
All in all, a perfect night and yet, Billy couldn't focus on the movies at all. Couldn't enjoy the relaxing time with his boyfriends at all. Billy unconsciously traced his finger, every so slightly, over your long and ragged scar, which adorned part of your neck.
Billy glanced at you. You were too engrossed in watching the movies, flinching ever once in a while from a jump-scare—even though the amount of times you have rewatched the movies and still you keep flinching—gripping his shirt tighter in your grip, while Stu squeezed your hand from time to time, to notice his tracing.
Which was good for him, if you didn't take notice of it for the moment. Billy didn't wanted to trigger another panic attack, to set you off into a mindset spiral and bringing back the unwanted memories you tried to bury deep inside.
But Billy always triggers himself with it, whenever he does that. It brought back a boiling rage, the hatred he felt in that night and his own unwanted haunting memories—of how Stu and him found you in the boys restroom, laying in your own puddle of blood. Barley breathing and conscious anymore. The after Halloween party of the school had been over sooner than the students had wished.
~~~
Billy had killed before, his first victim had been Mrs. Prescott—out of pure hatred against her, for ruining his family.
The ever first killing Stu and he did together, before they decided to create Ghostface and do a spree of death in Woodsboro, was a year after Mrs. Prescotts death and days later after the schools halloween party.
Their victim was a upper classmate of theirs. One of those arrogant, rich asshole jocks. One of the kind, who thought they could do everything they please, without fearing consequences.
The party had started good, they all had their blast of fun as they danced, eat and drunk. Billy and Stu sat at the many tables, enjoying their cups of beer and their view of you dancing around with your best friend Kelly. At some point you had left the party, probably going to the restroom.
They both begun to feel restless, when you didn't have come back. Stu voiced his worries and when Kelly passed by, telling them that Dylan has left right after you the party, they both stood up and sprinted towards the restrooms.
After all, Dylan had some strange love-hate relationship to you.
Billy wasted no time, kicking the door open—probably breaking the frame, not that he cares for that. Switching the lights on immediately, he stood still, when he saw the sight before him. Stu crashed into Billy's back, brought him stumbling forward just a bit but Billy didn't moved any further.
«Bills, move!» Stu whined out, even though he was taller than Billy and could easily look over his head, Billy still managed to block his view whenever Stu tried to take a look around him.
Billy had seen blood before. His own when he had cuts himself on accident once and when he had killed Mrs. Prescott. It didn't faze him, after all it was just mere blood, a watery sticky substance.
But this sight of blood before him, was way different. Leaving Billy in a state of something unknown. Shock or the sort of, he didn't know.
Stu pushed Billy aside, stepping into the restroom and got hit with the same wave of shock as Billy. Though Stu could easily break out of his stupor.
Within seconds Stu walked over to you, kneeling besides you and tried his very best to stop the profusely bleeding from your neck with his hands.
«Billy! Damn it! Get the teachers and the Ambulance!» Stu shouted, cried it out. You needed medical attention as fast as possible. Billy ignored him.
If it would have been another Students, which laid their bleeding out, none of the two would've cared. But this was you who was bleeding here and that is a complete different situation.
Billy was deaf to Stus pleading and calling. Only starring at your lifeless bloody form. Moments ago he saw you laughing and having fun and now? Now you were so deadly quiet.
Kellys high pitched screaming, right next to his ears, was what brought Billy out of the stupor he was in. Stumbling against the door frame, he took a shaky breath, watching how Kelly ripped a part of her dress off and kneeling, like Stu, next to you. They both tried to stop the bleeding, to keep you awake—if your still have a conscious left in you.
«I go and get teachers» it was the only thing he could bring himself to say, before Billy jogged out of the restroom and back to the party.
~~~
Days later, after the party, on a chilly afternoon Billy and Stu had visited you in the Hospital again. Bringing flowers from Kelly for you.
You still were unconscious, in a coma. The Doctor, after he deemed you out of danger the next morning, had told your dad and them both how your condition was and would possibly be from now on.
A blow to the head, more a bashing it was, left a concussion and probably long lasting brain damage—which the doctors yet have to testify how serve it would be. The cut on your neck was deep and had damaged your cords. Prone muteness and Dyspnoe.
«Only for a hour today, boys. Mr. [Lastname] had a rough night and needs to rest.» one of the kinder nurses said. They didn't question why she spoke of you as if you had woken up from your coma. They only nodded at her, when she walked past them and out of your room.
Billy took ahold of your hand, giving it squeeze. You looked still ghostly pale, but more on the healthier side. The constant beeping form your heart monitor, was a calm reminder for Billy that you are still alive.
Stu had put the flowers in a vase and standing next to Billy. Putting his hand over them and nudged Billy a bit in the side with he elbow.
«You know Stuy, how about we visit Dylan and give him a early Christmas present.» a certain glint in Billys eyes as he smiled, liking the thought of giving Dylan a taste of his own doing.
~~~
For weeks, even after your release from the hospital, the news were full with the brutal death of Dylan Helock.
„There are still no new information about the death of Dylan Helock, who had been brutal murdered in his own home. The police said it could be a possibility of ritual murder, but still have to testify their statements completely. Even the missing organs and gauged out body is a mysterious for the officer as they –“
When Billy had come back down into the living room, after changing into some more comfy nightwear, he instantly had switched the news channel back to cartoon one. Silently cursing out Stu for not keeping watch.
Though Billy thought the news could've still reported it better. The left so many detailed information out, Stu and him had put so much effort and work in it, to make Dylans death as painfully and gore full as possible, so the last those damned reporters could do was honoured mention it.
They simply did what Dylan had deserved. The asshole should have seen it coming, shouldn't have hurt you in the first place.
Breaking bones, cutting limps off, bashing his head into he ground and smashing it with a crowbar till no proper recognising was left, besides dentist check. Slitting his stomach open, gouging the organs out, cutting names and symbols onto his back.
They had their blasts, laughing about Dylans whimpering pleading, crying like a baby he did. Enjoying his pain filled screams.
Billy knew you would forget about what the news channel had said soon. Your short term memory had been affected the most, but Billy didn't wanna risk anything which could possibly trigger you. Getting you calm after a panic attack, without either medication or sedative, was no simple task to do.
When you got released from the Hospital, your dad had to rearrange his whole schedule—his life even, so he could take care of you and your needs—and Billy and Stu were happy to help with that, after all they're your boyfriends.
And hearing the sentences; „I know my little boy will be in good hands with you two“ and „I'm proud to have you has my possible future in Laws.“ from your dad, a chill guy he is in all honestly, gave the two a fulling feeling of pride.
They accompanied you to every therapy session, helped you with your own schedule, keeping notes and overall giving as much support as they could.
You were their little ray of sunshine after all, their light of life. The sole reason for what they did.
~~~
«....bill...billy......Billy.» your rough voice, still a low whisper, which got slightly better over the last year, thanks to the medicine and speech therapy, broke Billy out of the reminiscing past.
He hummed, glancing at you and Stu, who give him a expectantly look.
«What?»
«.....you good....?»
«Yeah, bills, you good man? Spacing off during a horror movies isn't like you.»
«I'm good, I just thought about something. Anyways, Stu move your ass it's your turn to put the next movie in»
Stu huffed at this, but did as asked. Your frowning face didn't wavered, taking Billy's hand. Billy kissed your lips, pulling you more into his side, ignoring Stu's whining about being left out.
He wasn't big for emotions, though those small rare moments he liked to do and enjoy.
«I'm fine, nothing to worry about love.»
Billy would always kill for you. He had to protect you after all. Stu would do the same.
You're their precious little darling after all.
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