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bloodstainedsaint · 6 months

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things better left unsaid. (dick winters x nurse! reader)

summary: you find out that perhaps war is not the best time for romance. (written as two letters from the two of you)

word count: 1650+

warnings: sappiness, angst of the pining variety, breakup(?), and ofc mentions of war

notes: any feedback would be appreciated 🫶, also inspired by @currahee's post about dick's "completely platonic" female penpal. since i've never read the letters between him and that woman myself, i took one line and ran with it

Letters written two days before D-Day. Though they were never meant to, both letters accidentally, and in no way aided by nurses and Easy Company men (specifically a man named Lewis Nixon) alike, make their way to their receiver.

Dear Dick,

I still remember the day you came into the base's hospital, looking for one of your men who’d been injured during a field exercise. You had made it difficult to pay attention to the soldier I was treating, asking like a concerned father if he would be alright. Not to mention your flaming red hair out of the corner of my eye.

Noting stupidly in the back of my mind the entrancing blue-green shade of your eyes, I had smiled and told you he would make a quick recovery. You’d returned my smile and said you'd be back to check on him. Like some silly schoolgirl, I had secretly looked forward to the return of this tall, attractive man.

Over the course of your several returns, we’d talked about ourselves while your private slept. Our easy conversations concerned simple topics, like where we came from, what we did before the war, and what we would do after it was over—though the fighting had yet to truly begin for us. There was a rumor going around base that you were a Quaker; lucky me, I found out you weren't before everyone else did.

There weren't many injuries at that time, and I guess you'd decided to stick around to watch your soldier recover. I was grateful for your company, as you were unlike a lot of the men I had encountered working here: flirty, overconfident, vulgar, you know the like. You were reserved and gentlemanly, with a small smile that I could tell you didn't show many others and a dry sense of humor. I suppose your humble beginnings in Pennsylvania had shaped you into a humble man.

Even after your soldier was released from the hospital, you came to visit me. I wasn’t sure why, and still am not today. You were a busy man after all—why spend time with a random, dime-a-dozen nurse? I wasn't complaining, though; like the fool I am, I had already began catching feelings for you, which I was sure were unreciprocated. You were probably just being respectful, I reasoned when I found my mind was full of thoughts of you, someone so upstanding wouldn't risk a relationship in times like these. If only I knew I was right. I wouldn't have bothered staying up at night overthinking every little thing you did.

During your free time, you would help me treat other patients, keep stock, move boxes, routine things like that. Over time your visits grew in frequency; so much so that your men had started teasing you whenever they saw you enter — sneak away to, rather — the nurse’s facility. I missed your company when you couldn't come visit, when arduous training took up too much of your time.

Fortunately for me, we started meeting while I was off-duty. Not surrounded by dozens of men, these stolen moments proved to be much more intimate. Taking walks around the base during the early morning before anyone else had risen or late at night when the base was fast-asleep was one of my favorite past times with you. You'd walk me to my small living quarters and offer me your jacket if it was cold, tell me about the seemingly universally hated Captain Sobel and how your men were doing. Sometimes our hands would brush, and I would feel my cheeks get warmer despite the biting cold. I could've sworn I saw your cheeks redden as well as your eyes snapped to our hands and just as quickly were averted.

Winter was coming to an end, and as the planned date for the Normandy invasion came closer, nerves were rising all around base. One mild evening, after a week of not being able to visit, you confided to me your concerns about the war. I boldly, brazenly, took your hands in mine and reassured you that everything would work out in the end. Holding my breath, we stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like a lifetime before you tentatively leaned your head down and kissed me. That was the first time I’d ever seen you unsure of yourself. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest; what if we got caught? What would they do to us, to you, after everything you'd gone through? But at that moment, time slowed down. Nothing mattered. It was just you and me, my hands in yours, and your lips on mine.

After our kiss, your visits started becoming more sporadic, until days without you stretched into weeks of silence. Do you know how much I longed to hear your calm, steady voice during a busy day, to watch the dew on the grass in the morning with you, to feel the warmth of your presence next to me as the stars twinkled in the sky? Eventually, I resolved to pull you away somewhere private the next time I saw you and give you a piece of my mind.

And so I did. As soon as I saw your tall figure, I took you behind the hospital and confessed everything I was feeling towards you: the hurt, the bitterness, the betrayal, the love. Irritatingly composed, you firmly told me that you had no time for such frivolities in war. As the words left your lips, I felt my heart shatter into a million different pieces and settle like glass in my gut. I told you, my voice not even sounding like my own, “if that's what you want,” and I entered the hospital again.

It's been a week since then, and two days before you drop into Normandy. And though you'll never read this, I yearn ask you: is that what I was all along? Some distraction that you entertained before I had to be pushed aside? I would've waited for you to come back to me after the war, would've waited for a better time. Is this it for us?

Although it pains me to say that I still love you, it seems that some things are better left unsaid.

Sincerely, (Y/N)

Dear (Y/N),

It’s now two days before our drop into Normandy. Much has happened to Easy Company since Toccoa. Much has happened between you and I since we met here in England, while you were treating one of my men.

I never regarded you as a potential suitor; I couldn't do that to you. Knowing that in a few months time we would be parachuting into France, I was reluctant to develop things any further. As it stood, I had already taken an unprofessional liking to you since that day we met in the base's hospital. Our following conversations certainly did not help the matter. Starting a relationship would have jeopardized my men and myself. I had to focus on running the company, and when we got deployed, I knew having a sweetheart back somewhere safe would have fogged my mind and gotten me or someone else killed.

Yet in spite of my reservations, I got ahead of myself and began spending more and more time with you. Though it was never explicitly confirmed between the two of us, and though we never said it, many would have considered us dating. We both knew what we were doing. For a while, and with the encouragement of Nixon, I relished being with you, taking you out every morning and night, assisting you with your tasks for the day. It was nice to get away from the duty of watching over my men and focus on the person I adored.

In the spring, as the day of the invasion loomed ahead of us, things were ramping up. I couldn't see you as often as I used to or would've liked to. The day I could ended up being the day we kissed, when things changed irrevocably between us. I wasn’t acting like myself that day; I let my feelings get in the way. When I stared into your eyes, I saw a lifetime with you, and without meaning to and without much due thought, I leaned down and pressed my lips to yours. From that day on, I knew I couldn't let this continue.

I needed space from you after that, before I went careening into the uncharted territory that is romance. It pained me to avoid you, but it was for the best: I'm a ranking officer, and you're a ranking nurse. Being caught fraternizing puts us both at risk.

But more importantly, it wasn't fair to you, my men, or myself. Easy Company needs a levelheaded leader. If I were to panic in the midst of enemy fire thinking about getting back to a lover, I'd be letting them and myself down. And the thought of you receiving a letter informing you of my death is something I could never forgive myself for.

I said as much when I told you I had no time for such frivolities in war. You didn't deserve that. I'll never forget the hurt that flashed across your face. I see it every day, reflected in the morning dew on the grass and in the stars at night. In everything I used to enjoy with you.

Nixon has since convinced me to rethink my decision to break things off. Nix is a very persistent man, you could guess. I don't think two days is enough to mend what is irreparable. But I can start with a letter I'll never send, so that if the Lord allows us to meet again, I can tell you this personally:

There may not be time for frivolities in war. But when the war ends, there will be time enough for you.

Sincerely, Richard Winters

#band of brothers #dick winters #band of brothers fanfic #dick winters x reader #hbo war #richard winters #richard winters x reader #hbo war fanfic #101st airborne #easy company #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #lewis nixon #i love winters so much

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thesoftestpunk · 1 year

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Co- Aquatainenceship 9

Summary: You’re just two ex-assassins trying to navigate your way through normalcy, but you’re also huge idiots. In an attempt at getting Bucky out of his shell, you offer to catch him up on everything he’s missed. Including trashy YA novels.

Pairing: cw!Bucky Barnes x female!Reader

Word count: 6.4k

A/N: I have been struggling so hard to write lately :(( quick shoutout to @sanguineterrain for helping me find the end to the chap but also the courage to get it done!!

Warnings: angst, talk about depression, fluff, injuries, blood, and stitches. can't forget smoking

Series Masterlist

So you don’t talk about it. It being your feelings, but you didn’t want to when he was out of town for the next week, doing a multitude of interviews with Tony and Natasha. Pepper had come up with a simple PR plan to roll out the new phase of the Avengers, and it included Bucky. They wanted to show people he was harmless, but you’re not sure putting him on live television was such a good idea. He glared down at every camera, and intimidated every interviewer despite their best efforts at making him look less intimidating. You tease him relentlessly when his days are over, but he begs you to stop watching them. You give in after day three when you keep hearing the same handful of answers.

With your time off, you almost don’t know what to do. You try filling every moment that you’re awake because if you think, you spiral. So you run, smoke a whole pack a day, and sometimes box.

On one of your slower days, you wander up to the roof. Not many people go up there, and Tony hates it when they do, but there’s two shitty plastic lawn chairs to gaze up at the stars. Everything feels unsettled and shifted, but just looking up and zoning out helped.

“I thought you quit years ago.” Steve moves the spare chair next to yours and it groans under his weight.

“No need to keep the clueless act, Stevie.” You stub the cigarette out anyway, knowing the smell still puts him off. Bucky had told you his anxieties only came from when he was a small kid with asthma before the serum. “Bucky let the cat out of the bag months ago.”

“Well, I’m surprised it never occurred to you sooner.”

“Just wanted to tell myself you didn’t notice I guess. I know how you feel about them.”

Steve stays quiet as he leans back, the chair creaking so loud you’re sure it’s going to break.

“How are you doing? Really. You never liked time off before.”

“No, I know. You were right. I needed it.” You sigh. “Everything feels kinda fucked. I’ve never really felt… lost. There was always an end goal somewhere. How did you always know that you were doing the right thing?”

“I didn’t.” He says honestly. You know it by the haunted look in his eyes. “But it always felt right. Sometimes things just don’t turn out, no matter how well you stick to the plan.”

“Right.” You look down to the gravel, still feeling a little small. Even when admitting he wasn’t always right, Steve felt so perfect to you. The great American hero, but in your eyes, the altruistic big brother. “Never did say sorry for the kid dying, did I?”

“No, y/n. You didn’t—“

“I’m not-“ you interrupt then sigh, trying to gather your words. Steve’s patient, watching you without judgment. “I’m not saying sorry for getting him killed. I already did that, but I’m just saying. He was on our team. I’m just sorry we lost someone on our team.”

“You lose people sometimes.”

“Still sucks though.”

“It does.”

It’s quiet as you both look up to watch the stars and the occasional plane fly by. You liked these little moments with him. He always knew how to lift your spirits, just the slightest bit, even if you were the one venting most of the time. You’re sure he’s just happy to see you not locked up in your room for days on end.

“I think I might need more time?” It comes out more as a question than a statement, feeling a sudden rush of tears.

“I’ll let Tony know.” He almost goes into work mode until he looks over at you looking a little crushed. “Come on. Sam’s back from his sisters and I know you love her cooking. Maybe Bruce will show you some of his new gadgets too.”

He leads you back to the roof door, holding it open for you. It’s almost too quiet in the elevator and you’ve honestly been dying to ask.

“So…” you start, turning to him with a sly grin. “Do I get to know her name?”

“Who?”

“The girl you’ve been seeing, Steve.” You roll your eyes. “You had a red kiss stain on your cheek all of Monday afternoon.”

His face turns as red as the lipstick that had been stuck to him and you almost double over in laughter.

“Buck is only gone for one more day, you know.”

Your laughter stops. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“If I recall correctly, you smelled a lot like Bucky's cologne when you came back Monday.”

“Can we rewind and I make fun of you for saying gadgets instead?”

You wait outside Bucky's building, bouncing anxiously as you hope you timed his departure from the compound correctly. Some passerby give you looks as you hang out on the edge of the curb, leaning casually against the car beside you. The roar of a motorcycle makes you perk up, turning just in time to catch him pulling up and killing the engine. You stay in your spot, two cars away as he removes his helmet and goes for his things. Not before acknowledging your presence of course. His hair has been trimmed since you’ve last seen him in person and his face is completely smooth. It makes him look less intimidating upon first glance, and you know for a fact the pepper made him do it. He had looked even less intimidating on tv, being dressed in lighter colored clothing, opposite of the black clothes he wears now.

“Steve said you weren’t around.” Bucky says when he’s standing in front of you, looking as antsy as you probably do.

“I was a little busy with this.” You gesture to the old and pale colored jeep wrangler behind you. “Ta-da!”

“It’s a jeep.” He states simply.

“Well. Yeah, but it’s my Jeep. That I drove alone.”

“Wait, you…” realization dawns on him and you quickly pull out the temporary paper one the dmv gave you.

“You’re looking at the new owner of a driver's license!” You barely show it off before he’s pulling you into a hug, spinning you around. He sets you down, hands lingering on your hips as you let out remnants of laughter.

“Everyone better watch out with that lead foot of yours, doll.”

You give his shoulder a good punch, which only makes him laugh. There’s a moment where you watch his eyes fall to your lips before coming back up to your eyes. Home always looked good on him, the bags under his eyes lessening from the inconsistent sleep. He just always looked happy to be in Brooklyn, that boyishness returning full force. He's taking a step back and picking up his bags that he dropped in excitement and invites you in with a nod toward his building.

“You could have let yourself in.” He says when you’re alone in the elevator.

“I don’t need your neighbors thinking I’m some crazy ex or something trying to break in.”

“Sounds like you need a key then.”

You hope you keep your cool, but by the smug look on his face, your shock is obvious.

“Beer?” Bucky offers, setting his bags down by the couch to be forgotten until later.

“Yes please.”

“We can sit out on the fire escape if you want a smoke.” He had noticed when your anxious energy hadn’t dissipated. “Go ahead. I’ll grab a few.”

You climb outside, taking a seat on one of the stools he’d placed there when you found yourselves there more often than on his couch. Your leg bounces because you’re going to tell him damn it. Avoiding the conversation is only going to make things worse. It already has if your fight was anything to go off of. His tags sit heavy on your chest, and you toy with them while he moves around his kitchen. He’d heard them clinking together when you walked, but he wasn’t going to bring it up until you did. He didn’t really have any real need for them, and he gave them to you for a reason. A promise. That didn’t have to end every time he came home. Plus, he imagined the simple chain looked great on you, and he can’t find it in himself to scold his brain for thinking of your chest. Not even naked. God, he’s become a simp. Even though he’s still not completely sure what that means.

His footsteps have you hiding the tags back underneath the collar of your shirt.

“Careful,” he warns when the bottle almost slips through your nervous hand. Grabbing your favorite pack of cigarettes from the window sill, he taps it against his palm a few times before slipping one out, lighting it and offering it to you.

“I’m quitting,” you blurt out.

“Oh.” He isn’t sure what to say as he rolls the cigarette between his fingertips, unsure of what to do with it now. “Steve get to you finally?”

“Not- I mean I do feel a little guilty now that I know he knows but, no. I’m not quitting smoking. I’m quitting the team, Buck. It’s why I got my license, a car.”

It’s quiet for a long time, and you avoid looking at him in fear of seeing the possible rejection on his face. Eventually, you take the cigarette he keeps playing with instead of smoking, and take in a long breath as he thinks to himself. You wait with baited breath, and when he looks at you calmly, you blow it out quickly.

“Where are you gonna go?” There’s concern hidden underneath the curiosity, but you’re able to decipher it from his tone.

“Not sure.” You shake your head as you offer it back, letting him take a drag as you steal a sip of beer. “They’re kind enough to scout a few places. Make sure it’s safe.”

“And what will you do?”

Turning your head, you smile softly as you shake your head once more. “I never really thought about that. What did you do in your time in Romania?”

No one’s asked him that out of genuine curiosity before. It was always accusatory or for the record. He’s taken by surprise, in all honesty.

“Whatever odd jobs I could find. Nothing with official paperwork.”

“Of course.” You respond softly, understanding it would have created problems. “Well, my offer still stands,” you tease a bit as you reach for your own beer. “I think it’d be fun to be roomies.”

“I can’t, sweets.” He looks to his lap dejectedly.

“No, I- I understand.” You try to not show the hurt despite not being fully serious about the offer. “Your home is in Brooklyn. It’ll probably be closer to Steve and Sam… and I was totally kidding.”

“I mean, I can’t. They want me for at least another year.”

“What? Who exactly is ‘they?’ Tony? Fury?”

“Don’t make a fuss,” he pleads. I’m not sure I’m worth all this, Steve.

“Why not?”

“Gotta pay my dues. It came with my parole.”

You stand, clenching your jaw as you move to lean over the railing. There’s a heavy sigh from behind you and the old fire escape creaks when he moves next to you.

“It’s not just about me having to work for them, is it?” He’s quiet, cautious.

“Who’s gonna look after you when I’m gone?”

“when it’s not you, it’s Steve.”

“Steve doesn’t make a fuss like I do.”

“Well, you both know how to make yourselves heard.” It makes your mouth twitch but you work hard to keep frowning. “I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”

“It’s nice to have help though.”

“It is.” He smiles. “But you’ll visit and when you do, you can help me with normal things. Like when the damn tv misbehaves.”

“You need to be nicer to it or you’re buying another one.”

He chuckles softly, plucking the cigarette from between your fingers. As he takes a drag, you see the frown and stress line between his eyebrows. Tilting your head, you wait for it to dissipate along with the smoke, but it never does.

“What? Worried about me? I’ll be fine, Buck.”

He flicks the excess ash off with his thumb, watching some of it fall on his boot. “Your mother reached out to me. I guess Emily seeing me on tv sent her into a frenzy, but she said she wants to look for you again.”

“What did you say?” You wrap your arms around yourself, a nervous habit. It isn’t his fault she reached out, so you keep your anxiety from turning into anger.

“That Avengers don’t really take missing persons cases.” There’s an obvious pause, you realize, as he sticks the cigarette between his teeth to run his hands through his hair anxiously. “But that I would reach out to some of my contacts. That being… you.”

“I’m scared shitless.” You take the cigarette right from his mouth. At this point, you aren’t sure why you share when you both just end up stealing it from one another.

“I know that.” He leans against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. You’re not sure if the railing or his shirt can handle the pressure. “It just got me thinking, if you’re getting out, it’s a good time to let them know. You don’t have to worry about anyone going after them. Worry about running into them either.”

“I think I’ll always worry.”

“I’ll go with you if you don’t think you can do it alone.”

“You would?” It surprises you. “You always said you didn’t want to go with me to meet them. That you’d rather lose another arm.”

“I never-“ he sighs, defeated, realizing he may have said it once facetiously. “I was being a coward. Couldn’t do it for my sister, so how could I do it for you?”

“Your sister was alive?”

“Passed before we became friends.”

“Buck…”

“Look, it’s not about me, sweets.” He pulls you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your chest presses against him and you’re sure he can feel your heart racing. “You want me there?”

“Yes.” You wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing him into a tight hug. “What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn evidently.”

You pinch his ribs, making him yelp in surprise.

You let Bucky reach out to your mom, too afraid to do it yourself. She answers almost instantly and then you’re met with the fact that you actually have to set up a time to meet. You’re too overwhelmed so you let her pick, and when the day finally arrives, you think you’re going to be sick.

“We aren’t taking your bike?” You practically pout when you meet with Bucky at his place to go meet your parents.

“We can if you really want, but I was afraid Emily would want a ride and I’m not putting your mother through that kind of stress.”

“Oh, you make a good point.” The nerves come through in your tight laugh.

“Is that okay?”

“Yes!” You answer all too quickly. “Yes. It’s just… it's been awhile since I’ve done the whole train thing.” It’s only a half lie on why you were acting so nervous, but you don’t have to explain for him to know.

“I’ll be close by.” Bucky holds his arm out for you to loop yours through and leads you to the subway.

It’s jam packed for the middle of the day, but Bucky takes care of the passes, what platform you need to be at and when. Anything to prevent you from getting any more stressed than you already are. On the train, you’re pressed into Bucky, your back meeting his front. When the train moves and you bump further into him, unable to get a hold of anything in time, he just reaches around to hold you in place.

“I got ya,” he whispers into your neck, making your stomach flip over.

You burrow further into him, arm resting over his, and pretend to hide into him. It just was hard being in the same city you were taken, on a train no less on your way to school, but you knew how to blend in with ease. You know even better that kirsch could never take you again, assured many times by Steve that you had gone through with that plan, and he was buried alone. You could always use your anxiety to your advantage to get lost in a crowd, but Bucky keeps you in place easily. Ignoring your obvious nail biting, a curse to yourself as you loved Natasha’s flawless natural nails, he only swats at your hand once.

When you get off the train and head above ground, Bucky gets distracted by a floral stand along the way. Despite your eye rolling, you’re endeared by his insistence of getting flowers any time he meets a girl's mother. You think you might get down on one knee when he gets a single rose for your little sister. Your palms begin to sweat when you enter the park you agreed to meet at and when you see your mom and dad sitting on a bench watching your sister, you stop.

“Oh,” you breathe out, feeling like all the air has escaped your lungs.

“You okay?” Bucky brings a hand to your lower back, worried by the look on your face.

“Yeah I just- it’s really happening.” You turn to look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed with worry. “Just scared… give me one second to take it all in.”

“Take all the time you need, sweets.”

“Maybe we should’ve rethought the flowers.” You turn to him quickly, too afraid to be the one to catch your parents attention first. “Or the whole thing.”

“Y/N—“

“My mother is a florist for christ's sake,” you try to argue. “The carnations were a terrible idea. Why’d I let you get away with that?”

“I’m not sure that matters at this point.”

Turning, you see your mother, and then consequently your father, both watching you in happy shock.

“Oh, my baby.” You hear your mom's voice crack as she stands from the bench, just as afraid as you are to move any closer. You do when she takes a tentative step forward, hand pressed against her own chest. Nearly running, you collide into the both of them, arms wrapping around them desperately as they cling on to you just as tight.

“Hi,” is all you can muster against your mom's shoulder.

“You’ve- well you’ve grown!” She lets out a wet laugh as she takes you in, almost in disbelief at what she was seeing.

“It’s been, um, awhile.” You try to blink the tears away. Glancing behind you, Bucky stands where you left him. You wave him over subtly, not fully prepared to be on your own. “Mom, you’ve met Bucky.”

“Yes! Mr. Barnes,” she holds out a hand which he takes before offering the flowers.

“Mr. Bucky! Mr. Bucky!” Emily comes bounding up to all of you, ponytail bouncing. “You did it? You found her?”

“He did.” You kneel down to get to her level. “You must be Emily.”

She looks up at you in awe, and it’s a little shy, but she hugs you to cover it up. Bucky gives you the single rose to give her, and she jumps in excitement. The questions begin, and Bucky is quick to pick up on your nervous glances to your little sister. You had promised full transparency, but you wanted to filter what the little five year old got to hear. He offers to take her on a quick walk, which your dad seems hesitant about, but you reassure him quickly. Then you’re all sitting and they look at you too expectantly. It’s hard at first, telling them how scared you were and what all you went through, and maybe you lighten up a few details. The tears in their eyes never go away, and when you explain what Steve and the rest of the team did for you, your mother looks relieved.

“Sorry, but why now?” Your father asks innocently.

“What do you mean?”

“You said that man, Kirsch, died six years ago, right? How come you didn’t reach out sooner?”

You look away, unsure at first, but then you see Bucky holding your little sister's hand, and laughing at some story she’s expertly telling. The answer is almost entirely her. They got another girl, and they didn’t have to worry about you any more, but in all honesty, when Tony found your parents' information, Emily didn’t exist at all. Your parents were still in grief and in denial. You aren’t sure what changed. Maybe it was the fact that Emily just happened to be a surprise, and they figured they could try again. Without you. So you had agreed to join the team instead of facing rejection or disappointment.

“I dunno,” your voice is small as you look at your hands. “I- I was an assassin. Didn’t think there was much redemption in that.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“Look, I know that you’re my parents and you’ll love me no matter what, but you said that when I was a kid. I stopped being that kid the day I got taken and I’ve killed people. it just- the idea of you being disappointed just made me too scared.”

Neither of them try to give you any platitudes. Instead, they hug you tight, and let you cry. No one tries to carry the blame over anyone else. You’ve all somehow come to that silent agreement. They just end up doing exactly what you need, love you.

“Em sure is a firecracker.” You comment once the tears are over and she’s begged Bucky to let her hang from his prosthetic arm just ‘one more time!’

“Wonder where she gets that from,” your father teases, side-eyeing you. “I should probably relieve your friend there.”

“Friend, hm?” Your mother nudges your shoulder when your dad is far enough away.

“Okay,” you roll your eyes. “Yes. Bucky is a friend.”

“A friend who brought your mother flowers.”

“He’s old fashioned.”

Your mother hums, not quite believing you, and drops it. But when he gives you a smile over his shoulder, you seem unable to.

“He’s… complicated.” Your shoulders and smile drop when his attention is taken away. “We both sort of are. I’m not sure it’ll go anywhere.”

“How come?”

“I’m quitting the whole avenging thing. Moving somewhere else. Close enough to see you guys of course, but…”

“Far enough to make it complicated with him?”

“It’s all a bit complicated.” You sigh.

“Let life settle down again. It’ll surprise you.”

After you all grab a quick bite to eat, you part ways, accepting too many stickers from your little sister on the way. On the train back, you’re both able to sit, and you recall the way your parents had looked exactly the same, just a little older. You have to retrace their faces from old memories to remember the way they look now.

“You’re staring.” You tell Bucky on the third stop.

“Just… observing.” You give him a pointed look at his response you gave him too many times. “I’m proud of you for doing that.”

“Oh my god,” you balk. “Do not make me cry on this train!”

“I’m serious!”

“I know, but I swear to god, if I cry one more time today…” you leave the empty threat out in the open, face softening at his sincerity. “Thank you.”

“So, when is your last mission?” He changes the subject to work quickly.

“My last mission was my last one.”

“Oh, so you’re just done now?” He almost seems disappointed by that.

“Well, Steve’s putting me on desk duty until I decide what to do. Where to go. Thinking I might actually get some sort of degree.”

“Don’t you have enough credits for at least three?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, apparently they’re begging Tony to make me decide. I’ll have to take a few extra to, you know, finish it out, but I dunno. Maybe linguistics since I have the most credits for that, but what actual paying job can I get with that?”

“You’ll figure it out. You’ve got time.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” You pout and play with the zipper of his leather jacket. “So. Your sister.” Bucky sighs because he knew you wouldn’t be able to drop it, but he isn’t annoyed. “Was she the same one from the photo of you dancing?”

“Yes, Rebecca.”

“It’s okay you couldn’t go see her.” You’re cautious, watching his posture and facial expressions closely. “I wish you could have, though.”

“I was still recovering.” They hadn’t even given him his new arm, yet. “I’m not sure they would’ve even entertained the idea, and I know that just makes you mad, but…”

“No, I get it.” You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth even through the layers. “I was on a short leash too. Still haven’t decided if it was good or not, but they unfortunately had a very good point.”

“You’re still a flight risk sometimes,” he teases.

“I think I’ve found my reason to stay.”

Laying your head on his shoulder, you let the noise of the subway take over between you.

Tapping your pen against your desk, you try to not let your head drop from boredom. Steve was right in saying you were never good with time off, but you didn’t realize desk work would be ten times worse. You yearn to text your fellow teammates about any and all updates on their respective missions, begging for the nitty gritty details. You’ll even take having to hear about a black eye adorning Bucky’s face for the sake of your brain not rotting, but they give you nothing. Everything seems to go perfect, and you’re left bitterly tapping your pen as you stare at numbers. It’s been three weeks of this. You had even bought matching pants and blazers in excitement. The initial giddiness in a change of pace had worn off quickly, and you became a part of the corporate drones you had heard so much about from your endless journey of media deep dives. You honestly consider starting a fight. Drama. Something.

A knock on your cubicle brings you out of your wallowing. Bucky, a beautiful reprieve, stands with a takeout bag in hand.

“What’s this?” You eye him warily, but smile at the interruption.

“Heard the fridge busted and you lost your lunch for the day.” He has this knowing look, like he had heard your grumbled curses and banging a fist on the fridge door that morning. It wasn’t your proudest moment. “Have you taken your break yet?”

“No.” Your grin grows bigger, the thought of getting Bucky for an entire hour uninterrupted making your skin crawl with anticipation. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Take your break with me and you’ll find out, doll.”

You find a bench outside, looking out to the large field, and he unpacks the food for you. You’re giddy as he hands the take out bowl of dim sum. The sun feels warm on your skin, and you’re just relieved to get out of the dreary office.

“Are you sleeping okay?” Bucky looks over your face once more, but you’ve covered the heavy bags underneath your eyes with makeup. A skill you’ve learned over the years to hide any injuries if necessary for work.

“Is this a friendly lunch or an interrogation?” Your voice is light, almost teasing to hide the nervous pain you feel from the question. If his intention hadn’t been because you couldn’t take your lunch, it would almost feel like a betrayal.

“Friendly.” His frown deepens, insulted by your insinuation. “I want to know you’re okay. You’ve been… small.”

“Small?” A soft laugh escapes at that.

“You’re usually so present and there, but these past few weeks,” he looks down and shakes his head. “I can see your mind wandering, and you’re not here much anymore. Just don’t want to see you that bad again.”

“Well, I’ve been leaving my room.” Your hands find something to fidget with, and you’re hesitant to look at him.

“Sweets,” he sets down his bowl and takes your nervous hands. Looking him in the eye, you can see a million words processing in his mind as he searches in your eyes. “I can help. If you want it or need it.”

“Buck,” you roll your eyes, unable to keep this conversation serious. “You help me just fine.”

“You swear?” He looks for your tells, but comes up empty. He looks so scared and you can’t seem to understand why. Why would someone worry so much about you? “No night terrors? Anything?”

“There’s… been a few nightmares, but look,” you wave off his worry, letting one of your hands escape. He refuses to let the other one go, slotting your fingers together in urgency. “I’m getting out of bed and going to a mind numbing job everyday. That’s good, right? I normally just… wallow in self pity. I’m not great, but I’m good, Buck. No need to stress.”

“Y/N, I…” he hesitates, watching the microexpressions in your face change at the use of your name. No cute terms of endearment. You soften so much, he stops himself from telling you outright that he loves you. Because he can see the tiredness in your eyes despite your expert makeup skills, and he tells himself to wait just a little longer. It isn’t the right time, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you any more than you already are. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Nat wants to take me out for drinks tonight. As an unofficial goodbye party. Why don’t you come?” You want to prove to him that you’re doing fine, even though you would much rather get in bed early with a book.

“Can’t.” He looks sheepish as he picks his lunch back up. “Doing some recon later.”

“Well, I appreciate this, thank you.”

The sharp sound of knocking interrupts you from getting ready, hair halfway pulled back as you were about to fix your makeup. You’re afraid it’s Nat, as you get up to open the door, having shown up early. Bucky leans heavily against the doorframe. He’s beat up pretty good, bottom lip busted and scattered bruises littering his face. There’s dirt on his tac gear that he still has on, but most of all he looks tired.

“I didn’t know you were back so soon.”

“Finished early,” he grumbles out. Taking note of his leaning, your eyes fall down his arm, and you see blood on his hand that presses into his side.

“Jesus, buck!” Without a second thought, you pull him into your room. Both of you stumble over his weight as he leans against you heavily.

“‘M fine,” he mumbles as you drop him a bit unceremoniously onto the love seat in front of the window.

“I- we…” Normally you’re more level headed than this, but you usually have the time to get in the proper head space before missions. A surprise visit covered in blood was going to give you some panic. “I need to go get help.”

Just before you can walk away, Bucky’s free hand grabs your wrist. “They taught you how to stitch someone up, didn’t they?”

“Yes, but this requires a trip to the infirmary. Not my bedroom.” You gesture vaguely to his still bleeding wound.

“I’m not going to the infirmary.” he says firmly, the grip he has on your wrist tightening slightly.

“You are bleeding on my couch.” You can see where it just starts to soak into the material. That stain will never come out, you know it.

“I don’t need it to be perfect. Just something to get me by for the next few days.” It wasn’t going to take long to heal, but that didn’t mean they could just leave it be and hope for the best. “Come on, before someone overhears.”

Rolling your eyes with a dramatic huff, you pull your wrist from his grasp to go close the door. Not before poking your head out into the hallway, looking for any signs of life. When you know you’re in the clear, you close her door, and head straight for the bathroom. While shuffling in the cabinet underneath the sink for the kit you swear you own, you raise your voice slightly to speak to him.

“We need to stop the bleeding before I can do anything.” You almost shout in victory when you spot the red box, and grab a few towels. “First we’ll need to get your shirt off.”

As he struggles out of his layers, you drag your nightstand closer to lay out all of the items as neatly as you can. Taking one of the hand towels, you have him hold it firmly in place so you can go scrub your hands clean. It’s nearly soaked through by the time you find a comfortable position to work in.

“Let me see?” You ask softly.

Your hands hover over his as he peels the towel back with a tiny wince. It wasn’t as much as you’d like but you could work with it. Using the same towel, you hold it under the wound, pouring disinfectant over it and then patting it dry. He tries to not hiss in pain the entire time, jaw clenched tight. While you turn to get the needle and thread ready, he slings his arm over the back of the couch to grant you easy access.

“What were you thinking?” You ask quietly, the needle going through his skin easily.

“Yippee, I’m a hero,” Bucky deadpans.

“You seem to have forgotten I’m the one stitching you up. Should I check for a concussion too? Maybe terminal dumbass disorder while we’re at it.”

“What do you want me to say?” He flinches when you stab him harshly out of anger.

“I don’t like you going on solo missions.” Shaking your head softly, you keep focus on the task at hand rather than his reaction to that. “You should have asked me to come along. I was probably the only one who didn’t have anything going on.”

“You said you had the night off.”

You hum softly, not impressed with his lame excuse. “Well, now I get to end it by cleaning a stain that might never come out.”

“Shit,” he mutters, not having realized the blood reached the cushions. Without thinking, he moves to check the damage.

“Hey, hey, whoa!” Your hand falls onto his stomach to steady him, nearly having pierced his skin in the wrong place. “Easy, hotshot. I’m not quite finished yet.”

Your hand glides over his skin before returning back to where it had been previously.

“Got blood on your dress too.” Bucky mumbles, taking the fabric between the fingertips of his free hand.

“It’s okay, I-“ you laugh softly, bashful as his skin grazes against your legs. “I didn’t really want to go.”

“How come?”

“I dunno. Maybe Nat would say I’m looking for a reason to back out, but I’d rather be here with you. Bloody or not.”

There’s a thick silence as his hand falls on your thigh, squeezing in surprise by the admission. You scoff, returning to your needlework so you don’t get embarrassed by looking him in the eye.

“God, that sounded corny. I just- well, it’s true. I don’t wanna go to a bar full of strangers where some guy is probably going to hit on me or insult me by accident. Probably wouldn’t put up with me torturing him with candy or cheesy movies that physically make you cringe. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I want a guy who’s gonna dance with me because he knows I never have. If… if that makes sense.”

It’s a full admission, he’s beginning to realize. It’s him. You want him. Even though you can’t make yourself say the words, he still knows you mean it. Because you wouldn’t be shaking otherwise. You had the steadiness of a sharpshooter, and the only time you faltered was when feelings got involved. You’re so close, it doesn’t take much movement for his lips to capture yours, causing you to freeze and almost drop the needle. His hand slides up your thigh, sneaking underneath the skirt of your dress because he needs to feel your warmth. To know that he’s actually kissing the woman of his dreams.

“Hey,” you whisper against his lips, laughter bubbling in your throat. Pulling back, you see the slight fear in his eyes. “I should finish this up before we… do whatever, don’t you think?”

“I’ll be fine.” He leans back in, but frowns when a hand on his chest stops him. Albeit a little dramatically, he throws his head back on the couch and lets your gentle hands continue working. It’s silent for a while, and while you’re tying the knot to finish, he speaks again. “I think you should stay.”

“Buck,” your shoulders drop at that, and set the tools down. “I can’t. They’ve already found a place for me. I’m supposed to be getting a fresh start. I mean… how are we supposed to do this? Won’t it just be–”

“Complicated?”

Your face burns in embarrassment. “You heard that?”

“Doll,” he shakes his head, not wanting you to worry about that, and holds your cheek in his flesh hand, thumb tracing a circle along your jaw. “It’s now or never. I already thought I would lose you when you leave.”

“Of course you won’t!”

“You’ve got everyone here. Wasn’t I your reason for staying?”

“Yes, but I–” you realize you’re doing it again. You’re running away to avoid the hard feelings. The fear of rejection or worse. Loss. “Steve’s gonna be so pissed.”

“Who cares?”

Fuck.

“I’m scared.” Your voice shakes along with the hand that you bring up to the nape of his neck, and press your forehead against his.

“That’s okay, sweets. I am too.”

“Okay.” You breathe out as you close your eyes. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

Bucky kisses you like you’re leaving, but he stays, wrapped in your arms until the exhaustion makes him sleep.

Tag list:

@buckymcbuckbarnes @enchantedbarnes @buckybarnesowl (if I mistakenly tagged you, I'm sorry. I lost my tag list and tried to figure out who asked)

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #co-a #my writing

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downwiththeficness · 7 months

Text

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Twenty

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes. This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Word Count: ~3,000

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist Read on AO3

Eva pulled down the hem of her dress yet again in the short time it took for Josh to drive from their home to Diego’s apartment. The exposed skin of her legs and thighs left her feeling vulnerable even though no one could possibly see her through the car window.

The dress was soft black velvet with a square neckline. It clung to her body in a way that Eva didn’t like. Too constricting. She would never pick out something like this in a store, but Josh insisted. He needed a guarantee that Diego would notice.

The car pulled to a stop and Josh turned to look at her through the gap between the driver and passenger’s seat, “You remember what you’re supposed to do?”

It was not the first time that question was posed to her.

In the early morning, Eva was pulled from her bed by Alexei and dragged all the way to the dining room table where Josh was waiting. She was immensely grateful that she’d taken a thorough shower the night before while the both of them were busy elsewhere. The smell of Horacio and sex would have been very difficult to explain away.

Alexei, who stewed the whole ride in cold silence, scoffed, “You’ve told her at least five times, Josh. She gets it.”

Eva did, in fact, get it.

Josh needed the new shipment in within a day so that he could get the raw product mixed and ready for his first foray into Texas. He made a promise and needed Diego’s cooperation to keep it. So, with his back against a wall, he was going to offer Diego a little ‘stress relief’ to move things along.

She didn’t know how Horacio was going to react, especially because he wasn’t going to be Horacio when the time came for Josh to make his move. When she left him the evening before, Horacio assured her that he would turn Josh down.

I won’t let him use you, he said fervently while they waited for the cab to show.

Eva shook her head, saying, You do what you have to do to keep your cover. I can take care of myself. Just be Diego.

His response still echoed in her mind, Diego wouldn’t care if he fucked you in front of your husband, Eva.

Thinking about what he said and how he said it warmed her despite the anxiety of actually having to go through with Josh’s plan. Her worries didn’t stem from the knowledge that it would inevitably fail. Whatever promise Josh made was of no consequence to her. Eva’s fears were more simple than that. Her body already knew that it wanted Horacio and she wasn’t at all sure that she could keep the tumultuous desire at bay well enough to keep Josh and Alexei from noticing.

Alexei helped her to get out the car without revealing to the world that she wasn’t wearing underwear (another of Josh’s requirements). She followed the two of them up the stairs and into the building with her purse held defensively in front of her. It did nothing to hide her outfit, but she felt better with it pressed to her belly all the same.

The ride up to the top floor was far too quick. Eva barely had the time to draw a few calming breaths before she was stepping into the hall and crossing to the penthouse door.

Alexei glanced over his shoulder, “Just do what he wants, Birdie.”

He didn’t clarify if he meant Josh or Diego, but Eva suspected that it didn’t matter. She was at the mercy of two men—or was it three? Josh, Diego, Horacio, all so vastly different from one another, all with their own agendas. Eva only trusted one of them and he couldn’t be there with her as the other two locked horns.

The door opened and Diego smiled at them in greeting, “Come in! Welcome to my home.”

Eva caught his eye as she filed past him. A subtle nod was all he gave her before he closed the door. As was polite, the company was offered drinks, and a round of bourbon was poured. The four of them sat on a pair of couches that were divided by a coffee table. Eva and Josh on one side, Alexei and Diego on the other.

She sipped at the liquor and looked around, pretending that she hadn’t already seen the place. Horacio had put up some art—abstract splashes of color—and a new floor rug. Otherwise, not much was changed.

“You said you wanted to talk about our deal,” Diego prompted.

Josh leaned heavily into the cushions of the couch, one arm laying across the back of it. Eva sat straight up with her ankles locked together and waited for Josh to tell her it was time. Already she could feel sweat beading at her hairline. Her stomach was tied into anxious knots. She had to hold tight to her drink so that her hands didn’t shake.

“I need the shipment by tomorrow,” Josh said in a matter of fact tone.

Diego smiled, “I told you I need three more days. We had a hold up at the border.”

“I’m sure there are ways to get around it,” Josh replied easily.

A shrug, “Its a lot of work just to get it here two days early.”

There was Josh’s opening. Eva could feel the muscles in her husband’s body tense as he, too, saw it. She drank deeply from her glass, hoping that the bourbon would give her the courage to do what had been asked of her.

Alexei’s position to the right of his target was deliberate. If Diego got too rough with Eva, if things went wrong, he could easily step in and stop it. The relaxed posture was a ruse, a smoke screen for the potential violence he could mete out without warning. His proximity didn’t make Eva feel any safer.

Josh cocked his head to the side, “What if I gave you an incentive?”

Diego’s brow rose, “More money?”

“Not quite,” Josh said with a light, calculated chuckle, “Something worth a little more than money.”

Expression dubious, Diego replied, “What is worth more than money?”

For several seconds, she allowed herself to marvel at the act playing out before her. He knew exactly what Josh was aiming for and yet looked completely at a loss. She wondered how far he would take it, wondered if he would make Josh say it clear and loud.

Eva carefully drew in and let out a long breath. A hand brushed her cheek and it took every ounce of her willpower to remain still when her body wanted to pull away. The silence that followed left her heart beating painfully in her chest. She kept her eyes on the rug below, not wanting to chance a look at any of the men in the room.

“You’re offering me your wife?” Diego concluded, “To keep?”

The intrigue in his tone was so believable, so genuinely surprised.

Josh coughed a laugh, “No. Not to keep. To borrow—might help you figure out how to speed up our delivery.”

More silence. Eva held very still.

A tap to her knee, “Why don’t you go over and show him?”

This was her cue. Eva swallowed what was left in her glass and set it on the coffee table as she stood to cross the space between. She still couldn’t pull her eyes from the rug.

Josh caught her hand, “It’ll be nicer if you crawl.”

Face burning with humiliation, Eva dropped carefully down to her knees and balanced her weight on her hands. Then, knee over knee, hand over hand, she crawled until she sat before the shining leather of Diego’s shoes. Leaning back on her heels, Eva folded her hands in her lap and waited for further instruction.

“I know you like her,” Josh taunted, “You’re a busy man. How often do you get to indulge? Especially with an omega.”

The body before her shifted and a hand lifted her chin. Eva looked up at Diego, noting that his gaze was on Josh. It was hard to imagine that this was the same man she was with the night before. Every little detail was meticulously curated to appear as both brash and dangerous. Only his scent could reveal that he was not quite was he seemed.

“I am often amazed by the differences in our cultures, Dr. Moore,” he said lightly, “For example, where I come from, we don’t put omegas on their knees.”

The movement was so fast that Eva didn’t have time to react. She went from kneeling on the floor to sitting astride his thighs from one second to the next. It was a reflex to steady her body by placing her hands on his shoulders, to use her thighs to grip his hips. Her spine remained straight and stiff as she tried to convey discomfort.

“This,” he said, “is where our omegas belong.” He cupped her jaw, “Let me look at you.”

Eva kept her eyes diverted as he turned her head one way and then the other. They landed on Alexei’s hand as it dangled from where he propped his elbow on the couch cushion. The fingers were loose, but the muscle of his forearm was tense. She didn’t need to glance at his face to know he was watching every move Diego made intently.

The scent of him hit her. And, suddenly, it wasn’t Diego holding her. It was Horacio. Eva met his eyes. They were a comforting warm brown that, despite the hard expression on his face, were sparking with affection. This was not a man that was going to hurt her. He was only playing a role to keep the both of them safe.

“Was this your idea, hmm?” he teased as his thumb brushed her mouth, “Bored little housewife needs a little excitement?”

Incensed by the implication, Eva snapped her teeth at him.

He laughed, delighted, “You told me she was cold, Dr. Moore. I don’t think that’s true.” His voice dropped lower, “I think she has some fire in her.”

Horacio’s arm wound around her waist and pulled her closer. Eva let him. Dress pulled up around her hips, she settled higher into his lap and tried not to enjoy the rough slide of his slacks against her skin.

“She’ll do what I tell her to do, Diego.”

Eva’s jaw worked as she tried and failed to hide her ire. Fucking Horacio was something she would do willingly. The implication that Josh could order her to do so made her want to turn her middle finger up at him.

“Is that true?” Horacio asked as his fingers pushed under the hem of her dress. Eva watched him realize that there was nothing underneath and pressed her lips together to hide the smile. His eyes widened briefly, turned molten, “You do what he wants?”

Eva struggled to maintain her composure as his thumb brushed her clit ever so softly. The feather-light touch was a tease, a promise that Horacio already told her he wasn’t going to fulfill. She pushed her hips into it, anyway.

Leaning forward, he tried to catch her mouth in a kiss. Eva hissed and once again snapped her teeth at him, which only amused him further. His hand left her center and joined the other to circle her neck. The pressure stilled Eva’s movements, her breaths heavier as she stared at him.

“I think you’re wrong, doctor,” he pronounced, “I think your little bird is more bold than she lets on.”

The hand opposite Alexei’s narrowed gaze rotated so that Horacio could massage her gland gently. Eva thought that he might be trying to soothe her. The soft touch sent little waves of pleasure rolling all over. She realized too late that she was already wet with arousal, that her body didn’t care that they were pretending.

“Regardless,” Josh said, “She’s my offer. You can have her for a few hours if you can get my shipment to me within a day.”

Horacio leaned forward until his head blocked Eva’s view of Alexei. The pressure of his chest against her bent arms made it very clear to her that she had no room to move. All she could do was sit and wait for the men around her to make a decision.

Which was oddly freeing.

Eva didn’t have to do anything. All she had to do was sit. And, for the most part, that’s what she did. The line of her vision was limited to the bend of Horacio’s neck and the high back of the couch. She focused on his skin, his scent, and the plush flesh of the gland behind his ear.

Horacio, like Eva, might be playing a role. But, the barely perceptible pulse of his gland made it clear that he was also enjoying it. The realization sent a palpable shiver through her body. Horacio’s hands flexed in silent question. Conscious of the eyes in the room, Eva ran her fingers over his shoulder in silent assurance.

“What if I want more than a few hours?”

Is he negotiating? She though incredulously. Followed by, Do I want him to negotiate?

“I’m sure we can come to an understanding.”

He was negotiating.

Feeling spiteful, Eva tilted her hips forward against Horacio’s. She was rewarded with a harsh breath and a warning squeeze. Not to be deterred, Eva pursed her lips into an ‘o’ and pushed a focused burst of air onto his gland.

Horacio reached up and grabbed a chunk of her hair, pulling her head back until her spine was taut, “The shipment delivery is out of my hands. Getting it here two days from now took more effort than I like to use for this kind of deal. I can’t make it move any faster.” He paused, letting that sink in, “I don’t like being manipulated, Dr. Moore. The next time you throw your wife at me, I will make you regret it.”

Then, casually, he let go of her hair and pushed her to the side and into Alexei’s arms. Eva let the Russian rotate her so that he sat between her and Diego, adjusting the hem of her dress the whole way.

Across the coffee table, Josh was red with fury, “Then, I guess our business is done for today.”

Diego, undisturbed, stood, “I agree. Thank you for your visit and for your offer. I am glad we can work so well together.”

They argued the whole way home. Josh thought Alexei’s info about Diego’s preferences was wrong. Alexei thought Josh was wrong about Diego’s integrity. Neither of them spoke to Eva.

She sat in the back of the car and silently reveled in the way Horacio’s scent clung to her clothes and skin. For once, she didn’t have to worry about one or both of them figuring out that she’d been with him. The tiny bit of relief that came with that knowledge made up for her body’s disappointment that they were once again separated.

Eva had the good fortune of being ignored long enough for her to walk inside the house and saunter up the stairs to her room. She sat at her vanity and took off her jewelry, carefully putting each piece back where it belonged. Then, she plucked a tissue from the box sitting nearby and rubbed off her lipstick. Tossing it away, Eva stood and yelped.

Alexei was standing in her doorway.

Hand to her chest, she gasped, “Don’t do that!”

He laughed, “I’m sorry, Birdie.” Then, “May I come in?”

Eva nodded and crossed her arms, waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say.

Alexei pushed his hands into his slacks as he approached, “You did well today.”

“He didn’t take the bait,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.

“I think,” he said thoughtfully, “that we learned a lot about our Diego today.”

Eva’s stomach dropped, “Oh?”

He hummed in confirmation, “I think we learned that he is a bit more than your average drug dealer.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “Almost anyone would take the opportunity to get leverage over their business partner, especially one who makes so many demands of them.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured.

It was true. Eva had no idea where Alexei was going with this little speech.

“Josh has been a bit of a brat with Diego, if I’m honest,” Alexei explained, “I’ve had to mediate more than a few little spats between them. And now we have Josh offering to let the man fuck his wife in exchange for expediting product. As I said, most men would have taken that offer.”

Eva passed hand over her face, “Okay?”

“So,” he continued, “we can conclude that Diego either has higher morals than our other partners. Not likely. Or, he’s playing the long game.”

Does he know? She asked herself wildly.

Making a soft, soothing sound, Alexei grasped her shoulders, “Don’t worry so much about it. I can handle him. He won’t get near you again.”

Eva would let him think she feared Diego if it meant that he looked no further than that. She could play at a the tiny, terrified bird Alexei thought she was. That was, at least, comfortable.

“Now,” Alexei said as he pulled away, “I need to go downstairs and prevent your husband from having a meltdown.”

She mirrored Alexei’s wry smile as he turned to walk away. When she heard his step get down the stairs, she hurried to close the door so that she could let out a huge, relieved breath.

Yet another test passed.

Eva’s secret would remain a secret for another day. She hoped that it stayed that way until she could extricate herself from the house. In her closet was more money than anyone had any right to have. If she rationed it, Eva could live a free life for years. It was getting to that free life that was the problem.

A thought drifted forward. A reminder, really. Eva had one resource she hadn’t yet tapped to bolster her plan. She almost didn’t want to drag her friend into the mess that was her marriage, but she had offered.

Sighing, Eva made her decision.

She was going to have to plan a visit with Bobbi Lynn.

#Shadow and Veil #narcos #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #AU #A/B/O dynamics #maurice compte

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tetrakys · 1 year

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Hi. How are you? It's been a while since I have written a message here, but I've always had an eye on your profile and I wanted to thank both of you and Chino from the bottom of my heart for giving us the ANE story of Eldarya we all deserved to have, our little hearts are less heartbroken :))

Now I am wondering just as much as the others in the community how new gen candy is gonna be like. 😂😂😂

Truth be told, I am a little worried that no matter if they're gonna try their best or not, there will be a though crowd to impress due to recent events and I don't blame anyone for being skeptic, it will be hard to beat the original MCL that we all love and grew up with. I never tried Moonlight lovers or Uncoven, so IDK why they've never been an interesting subject of interest. Henri's Secret sincerely should have been left like that, only with the first season, the second one was a waste of time and money.

Getting back to New Gen, unfortunately, because of the comparison that will be between this and the previous series, the risk of not being successful is pretty high and I really hope it won't happen. It will be hard for them to have another failed project like Eldarya ended up for example. I never understood why I loved Eldarya TO so much (do you know how to answer that question for yourself?). I discovered it very late, despite MCL, but it still means so much to me and I'm sad that it's probably gonna end this way, with these 20 failed chapters. 💔

To answer my question, maybe because everything just made sense and worked together perfectly: the plot, the characters, the references, the harsher topics which made it real and somehow relatable.

Anyways, keep up with the good work girl and I will be back with a feedback that you will be asking for or not after finishing the story (I love writing, so who cares as long as I'm enjoying myself 😅). Sending love and hugs to you and the community. 🫶

Hello! Lovely to see you 💕 thank you for following me and the kind message, let me answer everything (long post, I'm putting it under the cut).

About New Gen:

You're very right, it's gonna be hard to impress people, I'm fully expecting part of the fandom to claim that the new LIs aren't as good as the old ones for the simple fact that there's no replacing your first love. I'm also expecting some people to hate on the game just because it's Beemoov and they would hate the company even if they found the cure for HIV. But I also thing that the game has the potential to bring a breath of fresh air to the fandom. Lots of people have left and haven't come back even to play Alternate Life, maybe a similar game but with a new story and new characters will make tired people and new people interested. Personally I just love Chino's characters, the way she brings life to them, in her 3 games I've managed to fall in love every single time so I'm fully prepared to do it again. I've never been able to get so attached to other games' characters even if I enjoyed them. I guess at the end of the day it's just a matter of personal preferences, her writing just click with me. Which brings me to Eldarya...

About Eldarya TO/ANE:

Why I loved Eldarya TO? 🤔 Firstly, as I mentioned before, I enjoyed the characters even the secondary ones, even the ones I hated (*cough*Miiko*cough*), I just got attached to them. I also started playing Eldarya late, it was 2018 or 2019, when the game first came out it was in French only and then I never kept up with it. Then I joined Tumblr, saw people playing and decided to play as well. I started with Nevra because he was the one dressed in all black and looked a little like a bad boy, turns out he was the ladies' man route instead, not exactly my type but I am still attached to him as he was my first. While I was playing his route I got super invested in wanting to tame Ezarel, he was such a bish, so I had to make him fall for me. In the end I got over him the moment I won the challenge and I got him lol, I spent the rest of his route trying to get with Lance with no success, obviously. After that I tried Leiftan because he was clearly in my eyes the "main guy" but I'm a shallow person when I play these games and I've never been able to move past his clothes, hair and general fakeness. I love him though, when he's his real daemonic self, just not my perfect type. Then I played Valkyon because he was the last one left and oh boy... I fell for him hard. I still bonk myself for having left him for last. However, I think we all know here that my one true love is his brother and I've spent years trying to have him to end up with... whatever his ANE version is. As I said I love Chino's characters, and since Eldarya was given to another creator you can SEE that the characters aren't the same. I've seen a couple of people upset when I say that Eldarya's characters aren't the same, they claim that the way they are now is a natural consequence of what they lived through those 7 years time lapse and NO I'm sorry I will never be able to agree with this. Game characters' aren't real people, they exist only in the way their creator makes them exist, if the creator changes they are very literally the definition of different people. ANE LIs are what ANE writer and creator see them as, which is not what TO writer and creator saw them as. It's really, quite literally, a different game. Including the way dialogues and events are written. I LOVED TO's darker themes and I loved the potion plot. TO wasn't a perfect game by any means but it made me feel things, now I just feel nothing when I play Eldarya. It makes me really sad. (And I haven't managed to keep playing since episode 14 :( )

About The Dragon's Call:

Thank you for liking our story 💕💕 writing it is cathartic for me, not only because of the game, but also because life has been a bit tough this past year and I'm fully aware Chino is indulging me only because she cares (and also cares about all the players who love Eldarya of course). I want to get to the point where I have Lance's (and Valkyon's) route complete and I can read it whenever I feel like I miss him. Honestly I wish someone else would've written it so I could've just enjoy it as a reader 😂 but at least I hope I'm doing the characters justice. And yes please come back to give me feedback whenever you want I really appreciate it! 💕

Sorry for the loooong rambling, hope to see you around here again 😊

#mcl #my candy love #eldarya #mcl rambling #eldarya rambling #like... can you imagine if Return of the King had been written by someone else with no involvment from Tolkien's part?#could it still be considered the canonical ending of LotR?#I know I wouldn’t and thus for me ANE is nothing more than a fanfiction #even less than that because at least a fan would know all that happened in TO and there wouldn’t be all these plotholes

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enchantedpalia · 7 months

Text

Libraries, librarians, and some pondering

This morning I woke up to a storm raging outside and the sun refusing to rise. I peeked out of my window at my garden and saw my apple trees swaying, so I'm worried, as well as about my other plants, mostly my blueberry and pepper bushes. I'm sure I can fix any damage they incur but I hope I won't lose them. At least I won't have to water them today.

I fixed a simple breakfast of eggs and rye toast and ate it along with fresh tomato salsa made from my own tomatoes. I had a checklist of things to do today but it will have to wait until after the storm. I am not venturing out in this.

(Later)

The storm blew itself out and my plants seem intact except for some broken branches and scattered leaves from my trees. I cleared up the yard and made sure everything was okay, and refilled the picklers with fruit, fed my worm farms, and put some of my gold ore into the smelter to smelt before I set out. I went into town and stopped in the library where Delaila was talking to Ashura in one of the aisles. Caleri kept hovering around them and glaring at them but I don't think they were looking at her. They were discussing some book they both read. Caleri shifted her attention to me as I searched in the herbology and botany section and came over to hover over me, even though I pointedly told her I didn't need help.

Ever since I found out about herbalism a month ago from a book Chayne let me borrow, I've been fascinated with it and eager to learn more and more. Jina and I have talked a good deal about the occupations and the careers of ancient humans, my ancestors. When I first arrived in Kilima, my mind was a complete blank, and it was confusing and terrifying because I was desperate to know who I was, where I came from, whom I came from... At the registration desk I stood with other humans to register myself as a new resident and when I was asked my name I automatically said this one, as though it's mine, and I pulled it from something deep inside me. Someone named me this. And I remember a vague conversation of someone - maybe it was my dad - explaining that Te'agran means healer. Maybe my family have always been healers.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Everything about my past is shrouded in mystery. Who, why, where, what, how. So many questions, and no answers. Jina seems to understand it more than anyone else. She told me once that she's working so hard to unearth the truth because we humans deserve answers. Everywhere I look I see ruins of ancient human civilisation. A world has grown up around our past, and we don't really belong. Or do we? I don't know.

I managed to convince Caleri to let me borrow two books. She told me I could only borrow one, but I begged. I told her I needed the other to look up what I learned on this one. She's given me a very strict deadline. I saw Kenyatta in the background rolling her eyes when Caleri was lecturing me and I had to keep a straight face.

Out of the library, and the sky was darkening again, but Jon and I ran to Bahari Bay to mine iron. We're both very low. We found a secret spot we'd never been to before, with radiant gems sticking out of the walls, but we couldn't mine them. For one, it'd be too dangerous to mine supporting walls, and secondly, we don't know how to do it safely. But we did find an abandoned mine cart there. So it must have been mined at some point! Anyway, we took some pictures! I've pasted one here of Jon and me, and you can see the rest here if you want. That's my photo album.

Two hours in Bahari Bay and we returned home with a lot of iron ore and a few other things we foraged, like sweet leaves, and dari cloves. No heat root. I'm almost out of that too, but we didn't find any. I picked loads of briar daisies though.

Hassian had sent me a letter ordering me to go see him. What a weirdo.

We got home just in time because it started raining again the moment I set foot on my property. It got very dark very soon, despite the time being only late in the afternoon, so I turned up the lamps, heated some leftover stew, and ate at the kitchen table whilst reading my book. I'm going to soak in a hot bath soon, and then early to bed. I hope the sound of the rain won't keep me awake.

#palia game #palia mmo #palia open beta #palia #palia caleri #cozy mmo

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kidmachinate · 9 months

Text

The Burned Bridge

(This has been scheduled since July 31st to post if things go as predicted. Was right on target, therefore no reason to delete or edit this)

It must be nice to have zero responsibility. Zero accountability. Zero care for anyone for yourself unless there is some potential benefit for you and chances are, it is to help save you from something. Funny how your reintroduction after over a year of not communicating with me over something you did literally started like this.

"Sorry it took this long to reach out but I need your help."

You got it. You blew it. Time and time again.

Finding this would indicate putting in some sort of effort to use the internet outside of mobile games, political YouTube videos, and content based on the games played that you just get mad at. If I'm honest though, it's a reflection of fourteen whole months. Eight and half spent unemployed and sometimes couldn't even bother to either communicate, come with around the corner somewhere, and plenty else I'm not gonna put out there.

The worst part? Even if I torch this bridge less than two weeks from now, it doesn't mean I hate you...but there was more than bills at stake here. You knew this. You took it for granted til the very end. In fairness, I told you to have your cake and eat it too because your days are numbered. Thought maybe on principle you'd at least think of doing something different. Nope. It's fine by me. You could have been homeless. I prevented that. At what cost to me? At what cost to me and my partner who already have our own stuff to work out? Hearing daily about lack of action in multiple regards and that's without even getting into much more personal shit.

When and if you wonder why and how things got this way, I hope you find this post. Remember our conversations...which despite all you've done to tarnish this relationship, I still cared a bit to make sure you're on the right path. Gave you suggestions because you never seem to have a plan. Something that is gonna come up again before you leave and I'll help. Unless you refuse help, which I see happening due to shame. Maybe it's pride. Who knows? Once you're out, it's not up to me. It's up to you. Thing is, I'm not leaving the door open. Chances are, if things keep going this way, I'm torching the damn bridge. It's up to you.

You've got a lot to figure out. This could have been the easy path to success. After over a year of waiting, I simply can't any longer. Smear my name if you must. It will only work with people who don't know me. Everyone knows the simple truth. You did this to yourself and have no one but yourself to blame. I'm not sorry. This was never my choice. My choice was made taking a chance on you again after you blew it before. I'll never make that choice again. I won't even give myself the chance to. The last favor I'll do for you even after all this is not giving you a name, but anyone close to me you've tried to convince I'm the bad guy will know exactly who I'm talking about, and that's on you.

I've been through some romantic shit before. Sometimes even including housing scenarios in which I wasn't the problem but knew to take myself out of the equation to not make things awkward for everyone else. I can only count on one hand the scenarios that cut deeper than this. I took a chance that denied my parts of my happiness and some access to my best friend. Paint me as the villain of you need to because I'll never know about it. Any possibility of a comeback here is gonna require lots of effort, effort which has been proven countless times, you are not currently capable of and I'm not likely to care once you do. For your sake, I hope no one comes after you for the problems you're in denial and/or running from that go beyond anything we talked about that led to this point. Don't repeat this mistake with who you have left, if you haven't already burned those bridges as well.

In fairness, you didn't burn this one. You wanted to hold onto what we had while continuing to disrespect my partner and I in our own household. As a result, as you exit our home, I'm torching the bridge.

#burning bridges #financial abuse #taking advantage #figure it out #Spotify

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nyx-sagau-dreams · 1 year

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Hi! Can I please get a genshin matchup?

I’m attracted to males and I’m monogamous. My pronouns are they/them. My mbti + enneagram is INTJ 6w5.

Personality: I’m very quiet, and I’m not that good at communicating with others. I tend to speak in a straight forward and blunt manner as well. I’m short tempered and not very patient, and I get easily annoyed by things. I’ve been told that I have a decent sense of humour, and I like to joke around the people I’m close with. I tend to kinda blend into the background, and I’m usually left out by others. I don’t really mind I guess, I like being by myself. I have a low social battery as well, and I value my personal space. I’ve also been told I’m not really an “original” personal, like I don’t really have anything unique about me.

My hobbies and likes- music, reading (I like to read a lot of things and I love manga as well), baking and science. I like fashion and cosmetics as well, and I like to practice makeup on other people so I’d like it if my s/o allows me to do so.

Dislikes: insects, loud noises and yelling, hypocrites, selfish people and overly sensitive people because I’m very very blunt.

In a s/o, I look for someone who is patient and well tempered, since I’m not either of those things. Someone who is caring (holds the door for you, cooks for you when you’re sick etc), and someone who is honest. I’m a very work oriented person, and I always put my work/duties/interests before my relationships so I’d like my s/o to do the same. My biggest turn off is probably someone who’s overly dependent, and throws away all their interests for a relationship.

My love language (giving) is acts of service and I prefer to receive words of affirmation. Despite this though, I’m not good at taking compliments, since I don’t receive them often, and I’m good at telling if people are lying.

Thanks sm and take your time!

Thank you for the request! I have matched you with: Cyno!

Once Cyno gets to know you, he's very levelheaded, calm, and collected. Plus, he's honest, focuses on his work, and I think he would be very attentive as a partner. Despite being the General Mahamatra, he seems to be very kind and gentle to the people he cares about. He would not hesitate to hold open a door for you, or to help you in the kitchen. He understands the importance of working in a team and running things smoothly. Cyno is also super independent, so he won't be clinging to you unnecessarily.

You first met Cyno when you were applying for civilian access to the Akademiya library. You had a book you really needed to read, but thanks to the not-yet-updated laws on knowledge access, you still had to apply for access, at least for the next two weeks.

He was around because he was talking with some of the junior Matra. You caught his eye, seeing as you definitely weren't in Akademiya clothes. Cyno was worried about how the students and staff would respnd to your presence, so he resolved to keep an eye on you, in case someone did something stupid.

But luckily, it seemed that his help was was unneeded, as nobody dared bother you. It seemed that people changed even before laws did.

Well, the constant hovering of the General Mahamatra probably helped.

You finally spoke to him, even though you'd noticed him quite a while ago. It was just a simple hello, but from there, the two of you continued to exchange words and ideas back and forth.

Slowly you've become someone who Cyno trusts a lot. You hang out with him a lot when he's off work, going out to eat, or wandering the hills around the city. Sometimes, he comes back from his desert trips with little gifts for you. Eventually, he realizes that gifts aren't quite what you seem to like, so after some quiet observations, he figures out that you like words instead.

Cyno learns a lot from you, and he hopes you learn a lot from him. Above all, he just wants to spend time with you when he isn't working. He doesn't like to talk about work around you, either, unless you ask. He wants to give you the best, and he feels like his work is not it.

He takes your hand, and guides you outside the city. He brings you to one of the nearby hills, and then when he sits down on the ground, he invited you down. When you sat down, he laid down on the grass, and pointed up at the dark sky.

When you laid down next to him, you gasped. The stars were beautiful.

You must have said that part out loud, because Cyno chuckled next to you.

And then replied, "Much like you. Unless you prefer 'handsome'?"

You covered your face in an attempt to cover the heat rising to your cheeks. Cyno chuckled again. Then he rolled over to look at you.

"I could stay in this moment forever," he sighed.

You sighed and rolled over too. "So could I."

#cyno #genshin impact #cyno x reader #request: matchup #match ups #matchups #genshin matchups #mod nyx writes

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ninjago-fa-story · 1 year

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Ninjago FA Prequel: Restart Chapter 4: Home

~~~Acronix's PoV~~~

The day that I was released came just as quickly as prophezised, just three weeks after I woke up from coma. Even the doctors were surprised about how quickly I had healed up, but that probably has something to do with my Elemntal Powers. And just maybe, the pendant Aniela gifted me worked its magic too. After weeks in this quite uncomfortable hospital Gown, it felt nice to be back in somewhat normal clothes. Sure, It was just my Battle Suit minus the armor, but it should be enough until I got new stuff. Aniela was kind enough to slightly alter it to look better, she did not want to leave me in rags, after all. There was some other stuff that I have gradually forgotten about, though I was pretty surprised about my BorgWatch and Phone still working. Sure, there was no cell-service, but all the offline features still worked just fine. I still remember Aniela's reaction when she first saw them. "No way! Phones don't look like that! How does it even work?!" To be honest, I don't think I can answer that quetion.

Her home was pretty nice, it was small but had everything you need. A kitchen, living room, full bath and two bedrooms, despite her living alone. I guess she uses the other one for guests or some extra storage. I was immediately amazed by the way the rooms were styled. Despite the old-looking wooden furniture, she combined it with decorations a way it looked pretty modern. It reminded me a little of my childhood home, a style that my sister suggested to combine future and past, to symbolize the power my family holds.

I took a quick glimpse onto my phone as it started to vibrate ever so slightly, signalizing a low battery. I was lucky to find a power outlet that matched my charger, they have been standartized for ages. Aniela was quick to ask questions once again, though just like before, I had no answer to them. Technology is just as foreign to me as it is for her, just because I am from the future does not mean I know everything about it. it might as well be magic. I put my Watch and MP3-Player aside and went to shower. The lady in pink was kind enough to let me move in with her, it's not like I have places to go.

The shower was more than needed, sometimes all it takes to clear your mind is cold water raining down on you, though I did turn it a little warmer to wash myself. Once I finished after about half and hour I noticed an unfamiliar smell in the air. As soon as I saw the neatly covered table, I knew what that scent was. "Since you can still only consume light food, I decided to cook a traditional dish passed down in my family. It's a simple soup with spices and chicken." "Oh, this looks tasty! Though I did forget to mention that I am a vegetarian... No worries, you spent all this time to prepare it for me, I will eat it anways. Pure respect towards everyone, even if they are from cultures other than my own." That sentence has pleased my roommate entirely.

There was this one thought that kept plaguing me for a while, I know I can trust Aniela and I really need someone to talk to, after all, I am free to do whatever I want. "Aniela, can I tell you something?" She just nodded quietly. "I was not a good guy where I am from. I was... well... evil, a bad guy. It was not really my choice, but I still feel bad for what I have done. The guilt is what keeps me up at night. I really wish to have the ability to go back in time far enough to change my mistakes, but I know I cannot." "You are here now, with me. I see that you are not really a bad guy. You have told me your story and I can tell it was really not easy for you to do. Out of all the bad guys out there, you deserve a second chance the most. You decided to break free for a reason." "There is one thing that I haven't told anyone ever before. Back then, after our family was murdered... My brother an I set our house on fire to burn the evidence. He was old enough to sit for it and we did not want to be seperated. We have always done everything together. We burned our house down and never even dared to look back, yet the memory remains. I have commited many crimes in the other timeline and I regret every single one of them. Honestly, I was pretty surprised I was not spoken guilty once I came here."

Aniela stayed quiet the entire time, I guess she was to stunned to speak anything at that moment. Though she noticed how close to tears I have been getting talking about my past, it has always been a touchy subject, especially in reference to my parents. She calmly put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer until my head was resting on her collarbone. My body became limp and sank in entirely, her heartbeat calming my troubled mind. My mom used to do this to me whenever I felt any sort of negative emotion and I can tell exactly why. I guess it is the part of me that's Tawali that feels this bond to her as if it was physical. It can be compared to the umbilical cord, exept that it's not really there, but always present. Like a mental link. When she died, I felt it in my chest, as if someting was torn apart inside of me, I can't really explain why, but it's something that's subconciously there. Aniela wasn't one of us, but what I feel this very moment, is very similar to that.

Just by the time I calmed down, someone was ringing the doorbell. It was a woman about Aniela's age, her hair a flaming red. It is not someone I recognize, but she was defenitely known around this house, a few pictures hung on the walls made it fairly obvious. "Hi! I am Bethany, Bethany Barnes! You must be Adonis, Aniela's new friend." My mind was a little bit overwhelmed, but I still managed to snap out and agree.

Adonis... A name that was always my own, but also a name that doesn't really fit me. No matter how many times I have been thinking about it, it never really felt right to me. Sure, I was known as Acronix by a lot more people, but even that was just derrivative. Without any obvious explaination, that name made me feel uncomfortable in my skin. There is a lot of things I don't like about myself, but the exact problem can not be found. I just don't know what it was. Maybe it was just all those years I used the face paint and my costume. It covered up pretty much my entire body, so I was not used to seeing myself it without it on. Everything that shows the 'real me' doesn't feel so much like the 'real me' after all. Well, sometimes at least. Today is one of those days, yesterday was different.

My mind trailed off once again, but I didn't notice until Bethany tried talking to me without success. I saw her lips move, her eyes were clearly directed at me, but I heard no sound. Stuff like that keeps happening sometimes, so I know it will go away enventually. Technically, this is the part where a vision appears, I know that from my sister, but instead of a vivid picture in front of my eyes, my normal vision remains. My body is probably not used to the full element yet, with some time given everything should work the way it was intended. For now, I will just sit down and drink a hot tea. There is nothing else I can do at the moment.

Bethany was a very kind-hearted woman, something that I never expected to experience, especially directed towards me. We quickly became friends as well. The three of us enjoyed spending evenings with each other, usually watching movies or playing board games. Despite me missing the technological advancements of the future, it felt nice to be back to older times, it just made me realize how much I actually missed out on. An maybe I would be able to see it develop now, instead of bursting in right in the middle of its existance.

~~~

"Hello, are you alright? It must be exhausting to work on this machine 24/7. I got you some leftover food, it's all I could get without being suspicious. Don't worry, it wasn't touched by my hands or my mouth, you can safely eat it." "I didn't doubt that, and I am just a little exhausted, that's all. Thanks for taking care about me." "I try my best, at least. Want a pillow, I am pretty sure you need some rest. I heard that it's not good to stay without sleep for too long." "If you can get one, otherwise I can just use my arms as such." Acronix stood up in exitement, coming back just a few minutes later. "Here, I got a small one to not be noticed, but it should be good enough for now. I can try to get somthing bigger next time!" "It's alright, thanks. It should even fit in this drawer so that I can hide it once your brother arrives. Also, can I ask you a question?" "Of course, ask ahead. I don't bite." The inventor laughed at that. "Why are you so nice to me? There is no need for you to do all this. Unless it's part of your plan to gain my trust just to backstab me..." "No no no! That's not the reason why. I just want to help! i never wanted to be evil, but I am stuck with it. There is no escape now. Just because my brother hates you doesn't mean I have to. I know it's risky, but he doesn't have to know, right? Besides, I truly hate the way he treats you, I could have never imagine what cruelty and inhumanity he's capable of. I genuinely hate Krux, he doesn't even see how much all this hurts me. I just wish that one day, he would understand that this is the wrong path, but the more I try to stir him in the right direction, the more I realise that it is already too late. My acting skills are decent enough to keep this façade up for a while longer, but I feel like I am going crazy with all this! I just want a brother, but not someone like him, someone who actually cares about me. All this time only has been about his stupid plan, defeating the Ninja and winning a battle 40 years in the past. What about the 6-minute-rule! He didn't reverse our family's death because of it, and now he wants to go back 40 entire decades! What the hell is wrong with him!" "People can chance, even though some of them never do, but he is definetely part of the first group. No matter how innocent of a child he has once been, that Cruz is gone. You told me your story, he died alongside his parents, we both know that. He's gone. But you are not alone. Right now, I can understand this feeling more than ever, just know, you are not alone. I will believe in you. I will be there whenever you need me, all you need to do is ask." "I don't want my brother to win this. I want his plan to fail, maybe then he will realize that what he's doing is wrong, how much this pains me. Can you maybe do something for it?" "There is one thing that I could possibly do with this strict surveillance... But for now, please let me sleep." "Alright. I will go watch the door in case my brother comes."

~~~

"My night was relatively good. At least I know who I can trust and who to leave behind. I may be an only-child, but at least I have no manipulative siblings surrounding me. At least, for the first time in forever, I was able to experience what freedom feels like. I genuinely hate you and I wish you weren't my brother and once the time comes, I will let go of the pain you caused, but that time isn't now. Until then, goodbye. I won't miss you. Ace, out..."

#ninjago #ninjagofanfiction #ninjagoau #legonnjago #ninjagofa #ninjagofearfulassault

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violetren · 1 year

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Buddy, I have been vibrating in place waiting for you to finish 18 so I could break this one out.

OMFG.

Every time I look at the chapter count vs the affection being shown by Jakayami I have to take a deep breath and remind myself that this is the first book in what promises to be a series.

I guessed it'd be a slow burn early on. And I knew it'd be a real slow burn. No making love instead of fucking by the 20k mark nonsense.

But fuck, I was not prepared.

Hayami gave Jakari a forehead kiss, A FOREHEAD KISS, not a peck on the lips or cheek or corner of mouth. A little smooch to the fucking forehead with all the implications of care and tenderness over-ruling simple desire that comes with it and I have been turning that scene over in my mind like a rotisserie chicken ever since.

And it's nuts because yes this is the first overt sign of affection but its not the first sign of affection, because these assholes have been flirting via subtext and ridiculous "for the good of the mission" justifications since day one. Mamachi decided to have a tough conversation with their much more overt romantic interest with Jakari for support and Jakari brought Hayami along. Hayami wanted to make sure her parents were safe and well and decided to bring Jakari along to meet them for it.

There was no real call for either of these events even if they had been told to partner up for work. If they wanted to build a bit of trust and rapport they could have played 20 questions and tried some trust falls. But they couldn't just do that because they Like each other and wanted to try and show something real and vulnerable about themselves to see how the other reacted.

The affection has been there. It was there when Hayami decided if no one else would look out for Jakari then she would. It was there when Jakari tried to keep Hayami off of the mission because of how dangerous it would be despite having no real justification to use.

It's hilarious because Jakari's actions and though processes even if they aren't conscious/direct read as caring much more deeply than Hayami's did when I was thinking back on all the layers of subtext, because Jakari has been so fully wrapped up in self hatred and need to focus on the mission that she hasn't/couldn't fully comprehend her feelings for Hayami, meanwhile Hayami has been able to go "Oh, I like this woman a lot and want to see if its possible to explore that once we've saved humanity" and then compartmentalise it and focus primarily on the job only showing affection when there is actually time for it and when she knows Jakari needs a reality check as to her monster status.

Jakayami are taking up So Much Brain Space while (by?) doing the absolute minimum and it's slowly driving me feral.

#tmop spoilers #tmop #the master of puppets #jakayami #colonel jakari #hayami takahashi #lesbian fiction #lgbt fiction #queer fiction

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gaysindistress · 5 months

Note

LOVED the bucky imagine with them having a secret crush on each other, and y/n confessing before her date❤️ But there was WAY TOO LITTLE GROVELING😭 I need Bucky to be begging her for forgiveness after all he made her go through. I mean, SHE WAS HAVING PANIC ATTACKS FOR GOD SAKE. If you make a part 2, please include some grovelling for my sanity❤️

Hey babes,

It’s time we have a discussion about the expectations surrounding requests.

I’m very grateful and appreciative of the ones that I’ve received as well as all of the new people and support. With this influx, I’ve noticed a few things that I feel need to be addressed when it comes to requests. Id like to acknowledge that the overwhelming majority of people have been very kind and understanding. I’d also like to say that this is not meant to be negative or an attack on anyone and I was already planning on adding a similar note to my guidelines. Moving right along…

First and foremost, requests are not a guarantee.

I do my best to write all of them however I can’t guarantee that I will as not everything will work with my muse. I don’t think it’s fair to post a fic that isn’t up to my personal standards simply because it’s a request. I want everything on my blog to reflect the love and respect I have for writing which means I’ll only post what I feel is good quality. I’m also not going to force myself to write something just because someone asked me to. Again it goes against my quality over quantity rule (which applies my non requested fics as well).

Secondly, writing is a hobby for me.

As much as I would love to get paid to write and post, I don’t. This is all done simply because i want to. I have a very busy life outside of tumblr so my free time is limited and there’s even less to devote to my blog. I also started posting as a form of self care and in order to keep it that way, I give myself limits on how much time I devote to writing and working on my blog. Obviously I’m more active some days than others or not at all and that is okay. Personally I would much rather see a writer go MIA for a few weeks so they can recoup than watch them lose their passion entirely and disappear.

Third and finally, remember to always be kind and have empathy.

It’s easy to forget that there is person behind the username and profile picture. Even though our words may be typed, they still have an effect on people and we have to be mindful of that.

In regard to this particular ask, I truly believe that this person only meant to give feedback and did not intend to insult me. However the fact still remains that I was genuinely hurt by it and even cried when I first read it. Now that I’ve had the day to reflect, I understand what they were trying to say despite the poor word choice which leads me to my next point.

While I don’t believe it wasn’t meant to be hurtful, this is a backhanded compliment and not how you give appropriate feedback. Giving feedback can be very complicated because it’s easy to say and mean one thing but it comes across the complete opposite way.

If you’re going to give someone feedback, always make sure to say something positive it is important to let people know what they are doing well addition to what needs improvement. It doesn’t have to be an elaborate essay where their usage of tone words is analyzed. It can be as simple as commenting on how well they described the setting.

Second; be specific about what needs improvement. If you’re making food and ask someone to taste it because something isn’t right, you wouldn’t want them to just say “yeah it’s missing something.” You would want to be told exactly what is missing and how much to add. The same thing applies to writing. Tell the writer exactly what needs improvement and be prepared to explain your thoughts. In this case, “add more groveling” is the “yeah it’s missing something.” There aren’t specifics for me to focus on and brainstorm for. Making specific recommendations like “I would like to see more of the panic attacks so the audience gets a better feel for how deeply his behavior affected her” are going to give a writer more to work with and thus produce better results.

And lastly a writer is not required to accept feedback. I feel like this is pretty self explanatory; feedback is someone’s opinion and no one is required to listen to it.

All in all, I’m not trying to bash this anon and I hope that if they read this, they don’t see it that way. Had this not been an anon, I would have addressed it privately and just added something simple to my guidelines like I said in the beginning.

Once again thank you for all of the support and encouragement. It means so much more than I can ever say 💕

Love,

Rose 🌹

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eristic-kaleidoscope · 1 year

Text

UnintENDed consequences | E.N.D. | Trial 2-2 | RE: Names, Fighting, and Time of Death

END frowns as the part-pity party, and part-guilt trip happens for a few moments. When Just Erika implies Lyrica may have done this to themselves, she grits her teeth and bites her tongue, but the displeasure and anger are clear on her face. She’s finally about ready to say something, to scold multiple people–in particular Byrne and Erika–when Erik A steps up.

He doesn’t address everything that’s on her mind, but it’s enough to let her anger shift down a gear and cool again. She really should thank him for doing that what, two trials in a row now? For better or worse, he’s a good way for her to vent her frustrations without burning too many bridges.

Back to the subject at hand, including the accusation…..

“Okay, I don’t even know where to begin addressing that…. Erika, you know we can’t really take you at your word for that, right? You have to give us some kind of Evidence, especially if no one can vouch for a lot of where you both were. Also, did you see the note when you were in the Eatery, earlier?”

At the very least, E’s alibi is the weakest, probably…..

“I’ll let you figure that out, and I’m not saying I think either of you did it, just yet. I’m still working stuff out, so let me just run through my thoughts, yeah? First of all…

Yeah, AIRika nailed it with the hair fluffing thing–that’s probably the most people we’ve had in our room at once? And I definitely didn’t keep track of things there. Other than that…. Well, in addition to the people who have visited AIRika, I’ve had Ae-ra, Erika L, and Eureka over to my rooms at different times, though much less so since the motive. People are withdrawing more, y'know? Anyway, while there’s potentially something there on the chicken front–

Our list of names isn’t all that simple, isn’t it? At the very least, we never found out who matched the identity theft listing on the crimes, which specified a fake name, and on top of that, both Kenshin and KOKONE use names that aren’t Erika in any obvious ways, despite An and Calluna saying everyone here is an Erika. On top of that, we still don’t know E’s real name, either. So that's up to four other people who could have Erika as a first name, if any of those three aren’t the identity theft person. Maybe any of the three of them have told someone else their real name who can vouch? But I don’t know any of them, so floating that there.

(CW: Broken Bones desc) Also, as someone who has had their fucking legs shattered before? No, Lyrica absolutely did not reach the cabinet themselves. You can't imagine how much pain that puts you in, unless you’ve felt it personally. I’d thought for a moment, perhaps, they could’ve used the chicken and tape to try and reach something, but no–even just twisting your hips and back to do that would’ve left you wracked with pain. It didn’t happen.”

(CW Over)

She has to take a few seconds to compose herself after that one. Her hands tremble faintly as she recalls those feelings.

Right, we keep talking about a struggle, and the blood under their nails. I think that pretty well suggests the gummies had to be forced into their mouth, since there are no other wounds on them aside from their leg, from the trap. As far as we could guess, their head wound was likely from the fall, but if anyone would like to argue that, be my guest.

Anyway, I was thinking about it, and if I were down on the ground and someone were trying to force me to take those gummies? The easiest targets would be for me to scrape would be the arms of my attacker. So, since some of us wear long sleeves and gloves–which are not a defense because there’d be thread, since we could just take them off–I’m proposing that everyone takes off any gloves they’re wearing and roll up their sleeves, so we can all check for scrapes. I’ll even do it myself to rule myself out, as long as everyone else agrees.

Also…. Well, I don’t have really any damn idea on how to clear or disprove anything on the motive, front, other than to assume that the serial killer’s the one most likely able to plan this out for a while? That crime kept floating near the top four, and so they would know about when to act to keep it hidden. But thinking on it…. I do wonder something–The Aiding and Abetting crime said they helped a loved one kill many other people. While it's possible, I guess, to have two unrelated serial murderers in this group…. What about the possibility that the person that person’s been aiding and abetting in the past is the same serial murderer we’ve got here? Maybe that’s nothing, but if someone’s already got that connection…..“

She rubs her face a bit. Man. This sucks. Why couldn’t the dramatic parts of this group be about car repair, instead?

"One last thing, Calluna, An, I wanna verify our time frame just a bit, tighten things up just in case. If someone took one to three of those DeLight Gummies, about how long would they take to take effect?”

#END #chapter2 #trial2 #submission

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lettersleftunread · 1 year

Text

// thirteen twenty-three //

dear you,

i avoid indulging myself in thoughts revolving you because it brings me back to a version of me that i decided to bury years ago, a version of me that is vengeful, fuming, and extremely violent. tonight's an exception, though. just for tonight, i will allow myself to intentionally think of you, of all that wrath and regret, because what may seem like small and meaningless to you means a lot to me. you opened up a box of overly consuming emotions that i have worked so hard to permanently seal.

i did not plan to think of you tonight. well, i never really planned on thinking about you ever since we broke up because it was perfectly clear that i was already done with you. to be honest, i was done with whatever we had months before we broke up, but i just don't understand how i'm still living in pain while you're already living your best life.

i'm not saying that you should still be alone or be hung up on me more than three years later. it just feels unfair that you're already off with someone new, experiencing whatever happiness the world can give, while i'm still stuck with the tremendous pain you caused me.

i know it always looked like i had the upper hand in the relationship. i was the one who broke things off even when you didn't want to. i left you when you told me countless times that we should give it another chance. you wanted to hold on, but i don't have the will to hold on to it – to you – anymore.

maybe you thought that it was too easy for me because it only took one simple mistake for me to tell you that i was done. it came as a shock to me as well, but after years of reflection and rewinding everything that i can remember from those years, it was me who took the brunt of all of it during those three long years. i was already bottling things up, i just wasn't aware of it.

maybe you thought it came naturally to me to be instantly okay after every fight. maybe you thought i was too understanding because i only cry for a while after all the times you stood me up. maybe you thought it was my responsibility to not wear heels when i'm with you because you hate the idea of me being taller than you. maybe you thought it helped me when you asked me to stop wearing shorts whenever i go out because i might get catcalled. maybe you thought it was perfectly fine for me to be your shock absorber whenever you get mad and cuss at me every single time you receive low grades on your assessments. but that's all those were - maybes. those were all maybes because you never really asked if it's okay. you just assumed.

i don't actually blame you for it because i always told you before that i loved you more than i love myself, and loving someone means always being there for the other regardless of the circumstances. but the thing is whenever i tell you that, you always reply the same thing. you always tell me to save some love for myself, but why is it that when i finally had the courage to tell you that i finally loved myself more than i loved you, you made me feel like i was selfish?

when i suddenly asked for space after a very small misunderstanding, it felt like i was a bad person. it felt like i was asking for too much, but at the time, i really wanted to cut myself loose from your shackles. you've become too painful to look at. you're too suffocating, too unhealthy, and at the time, all i felt for you was indifference.

when i wanted to talk about it with people who knew me and you, they kept telling that it was wrong of me to run away. it was wrong of me to abandon you at the time you needed me the most. no one ever asked how i felt, but they always thought of how you'd feel. they wanted to make sure that you could survive whatever shit you and i were going through at the moment. you were the main priority. it was always you.

when other people, you included, wanted me to choose you and to keep choosing you despite every single thing that’s happening, i chose myself. and while other people believed that it was wrong, it was actually one of the things i did that i never regretted, not once, because that decision gave me my freedom. that decision gave me my life back. it gave me my identity. it gave me back myself.

but you know what decision i regret? numerous times? it was you. choosing you.

now, i just hope i’d be given a do-over. if i could take back time, be that wide-eyed 15-year-old again, i would’ve steered away from the massive red flag that is you.

i don’t deserve to be shattered to miniscule pieces. i don’t deserve to waste the past three years living in chronic emotional pain just because some stupid boy cannot be matured enough to sort out his own feelings. i don't deserve to your sponge just because you feel i'm capable to absorb every single emotion you throw at me.

i deserve to feel happiness, and that’s something you’ll never deserve. not now, not in a million years.

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately.

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.”

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment.

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way.

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.”

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie.

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone.

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed.

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island. It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words.

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest.

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face.

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly.

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it.

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

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moonlit-reveriee · 3 years

Text

Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

#c!techno #red:moon #mcyt x reader #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt smut #techno smut

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