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#i made a road safety fan cry
ximoramoonzx · 29 days
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foreverdolly · 2 years
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wanna play house | protective austin!elvis x reader
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this is a continuation of 'my bestest girl', but you do not have to read it first in order to read this one. . . however i implore you to do so.
summary: elvis's mother has been worried sick about your safety during your time on the road with her son. you and elvis brush it off as her just being paranoid, but danger always manages to rear it's ugly head at the worst of times. elvis, seeing you scared and slightly injured, absolutely loses it.
pairings: protective austin!elvis x reader
word count: 7,471
warnings/notes: SMUT! ,violence, elvis beats the shit out of someone for you and it's hot, oral (f receiving), elvis literally worships you as though you are a goddess and i love that for you, you both cry while he eats you out because emotions are high and he's obsessed with you.
masterlist | requests are currently closed !
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It had been a pain in the ass to talk the Colonel into letting you come along with him and the band as they performed with Hank Snow for the fair, but Elvis had made it happen. The two of you had only been going out officially for the last couple of weeks, but it was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two of you were disgustingly in love with one another. If you were within eyesight then Elvis was looking at you. If you were in the other room, he was bound to follow after you like a lost dog. If you weren’t around at all, then he was surely thinking about you. It was a never ending cycle, really. You were just as bad off as Elvis was. You always had to be touching him, whether it be your hand in his, your shoulder pressed against him, or even your legs thrown up into his lap. The bandmates were positive that eventual drama would arise, but the two of you always seemed to be in high spirits. 
The screaming fans didn’t bother you, not when Elvis went out of his way to let you know that you were the only girl that he truly cared about. Everyone had fallen into a comfortable pattern, you included. “Yes ma’am. I’m makin’ sure he’s eatin’ well.” You twirled the wire of the hotel landline around your finger, watching the ebony haired boy getting dressed out of the corner of your eye. He was buttoning up his white slacks and caught your heady gaze in the mirror. With a wide smile he wordlessly made his way over to you, chuckling under his breath as you quickly reached out, running your free hand over his chest and giving his nipple a teasing squeeze. He playfully swatted your hand away, reaching down to grab his lace shirt off of the queen sized bed the two of you were sharing that night. “I’m just worried to death about the two of you, baby. I don’t want any of those girls hurtin’ him. . . and I know how horrible some boys can be.” Gladys’s love knew no bounds, and you appreciated her for it. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a little though, leaning your hip up against the desk that had been squeezed into the small room. 
“I’m keepin’ a very close eye on him, darlin’. You know I wouldn’t ever let anythin’ happen to our boy, right? Besides, we’re out in the country. I’m sure nothin’ bad will happen all the way out here. The scariest thing we’ve seen these last four days have been a couple of drunks.” Elvis chuckled from the bathroom, the sink turning on as he began slicking back his hair. You could already smell his Brylcreem pomade from where you stood across the suite. “Now is he keepin’ a close eye on you? At the end of the day, I know Elvis can hold his own. You’re a different story.” You couldn’t remember a single time that you had felt unsafe thus far on the trip. Really, you knew that she had the propensity to overreact, but she had been going on for the better part of half an hour at this point. You were trying to be patient with her, but you could only take so much. Gladys was worse than your own mother, and you weren’t sure how that feat was even possible. “Mama, I don’t need any sort of protection. I can hold my own! Cross my heart and hope to die.” You could hear her scoff, but Vernon’s low voice whispered on the other end. “Stop holding our youngins hostage. Elvis has got a show to put on.” You had already started walking in the direction of the bathroom, stretching the phone cord as far as it would let you. “Do you want to talk to Elvis before we have to leave?” “Would you put him on? Thank ya, baby.” Elvis held up his wax coated hands to show you that he needed some help, so you pressed the phone against his ear for him. 
“Hey, Satnin.” He purred to her, shooting you a small smile before letting his eyes fall down to the counter. You couldn’t hear Gladys’s voice from where you stood, but judging by the way he was nodding his head up and down dully, you were sure that he was getting an earful. “Uh-huh. . . No, I’ve been lookin’ out for her. She stands at the front of all of my shows, mama. I’d die if somethin’ were to happen to her.” You smiled down at the floor, biting at the inside of your cheeks in the hopes of getting your heart back under control- it was fluttering at a maddening pace. “She’s with me every second of the day. She never leaves my sight, I promise ya- He what? Daddy wants to talk to me? Put him on.” Elvis placed his comb down on the side of the sink, licking his lips before looking at himself in the mirror. He must not have liked what he saw because he grimaced, shooting your reflection a goofy look as he waited for his father to get to the phone. “Hello?” A couple of seconds passed before he was rolling his eyes, shaking his head back and forth. “I’d kill em’. Simple as that. I promise you both that I won’t ever let anythin’ happen to her. . . Yeah- Yeah, she is our girl, so imma take good care of her.” He was running the comb back through his hair, tucking a few strands into place absentmindedly. After a few more seconds passed he turned his cheek, pressing his lips up against the receiver and mumbling a quick “love ya too” before giving you a look. You walked back into the hotel room, hanging up the phone before turning to face the bathroom. 
“What are they goin’ on about?” You asked, hurriedly getting out your own suitcase so that you could get dressed. You had been on the phone so long with Gladys that you hadn’t had any time to get ready for the concert. Elvis was particular about certain things, and he liked the idea of you guys matching when he performed. If he wore a baby blue shirt, then you wore a baby blue dress. If he was dressed in all black and white- like tonight- then you did as well. You didn’t mind much. It looked wonderful in pictures, and it made you feel even more connected to him. It warmed your heart that he liked not only being a couple, but looking like a couple too. He had always been very particular about the clothes that he wore. Despite the fact that you also came from a working class family, things had never gotten as financially troublesome as it had for the Presleys. Elvis had grown up poor, but he always made a point not to look it. His mother always made sure his clothes were freshly ironed and pressed and that his shoes were always shined. 
Elvis had always been a rather particular fellow, and he hadn’t always been celebrated for it. People calling him a “fairy” or “squirrel” didn’t get to him though. Not anymore, at least. He was above the name calling, coming to the conclusion that it said far more about their own character than it did his. He always handled it relatively well back in high school, though he knew that most of the name calling and trash talk stemmed from the fact that the other boys his age were probably just jealous. 
“Mama said she’s been havin’ a bad feelin’ about somethin’ lately. They’re both worried about ya, is all.” Elvis had always been over cautious with you, even throughout your friendship. If he didn’t seem worried about it, then you wouldn’t be either. “She’s been a nervous wreck ever since you told her about the Louisiana Hayride. She’s probably just feelin’ a bit anxious.” He hummed his agreeance, a comfortable silence befalling the two of you as you began getting changed. Your dress was a rather scandalous little diddy, what with the rather low cut heart-shaped neckline and the way the hem was just above your knees, showing off your legs. It was something you had purchased for yourself months ago but had been unable to wear due to your parents' rather conservative ways. You pushed your way into the bathroom at the same time that Elvis was finishing up with his hair, his eyes instantly locking on your reflection in the mirror. “Good god almighty.” He mumbled, dropping the comb back onto the counter so that he could turn around and face you. His blue eyes trailed over your smaller frame, his lips parted as he took in the sight of you. Elvis had made it a point to explore every inch of you over the last few weeks. He took his time committing every mole and freckle to memory. He was certain that he could draw you with his eyes closed, and the man could barely sketch a stick figure. 
Despite that, every time he made love to you, or even got a glimpse of you, it still felt like the first time. His stomach would fill with butterflies, his palms would start to sweat, and his pants would grow impossibly tight. In all the years that he had known you, never had he seen you in a dress like this. The sweet little babydoll nighties you’d prance around his room in were a completely different story. This was a masterpiece. You were a masterpiece. “You’ve got me sweatin’ worse than a whore in church. God damn it, my girl is so beautiful.” He lifted his hand up to his face, biting down on his knuckle with a small grin. You couldn’t help but blush at the sudden onslaught of compliments, shyly waving him off with a small flick of your wrist. There wasn’t much room in the tiny motel bathroom, so you couldn’t duck away from his arms even if you wanted to. He was quick to pull you towards him, his hands moving over the cinched waistline of the dress, slowly brushing down to run his fingers along the hip. You shivered as you felt his touch against the skin of your thighs. 
“How ‘bout we just stay in, hmm? I could tell the Colonel that I got food poisonin’ or somethin’.” It was nearly possible to deny him of anything he wanted, especially when he looked at you like that. Ever so slowly he began backing you up, smiling smugly as you let out a small yelp whenever your back hit the wall behind you. “Let me make love to you, yeah? I’ll make it quick. I promise-” A knock at the door made the both of you jump, but he soon threw his head back with an exasperated groan, his eyes screwed shut. “What is it?” He called, popping his head out of the bathroom door so that the intruder might hear him better. “We’re startin’ to pack the cars up, EP. You two dressed and ready yet?” You bit your lip as you pressed your back tighter against the wall, hoping that the added space between you and your beau might calm the growing heat between your legs. “Shit.” Elvis cursed, giving you an apologetic look before taking a step back from you. He looked down at the front of his trousers, wincing as he noticed that he was visibly hard. He took a couple of seconds to try and adjust himself in a way that wouldn’t make it so obvious, but gave up after a while. “I’m comin’. Give me one second Scotty.” He brushed past you on his way to the door, giving you one last suggestive look before prying his gaze away. He opened the door just a sliver, hiding his bottom half the best he could.
 “You don’t even have your shoes on yet. What the hell have you been doin’ this whole time?” Scotty asked exasperatedly, his eyebrows furrowing in slight annoyance. Elvis looked behind him at the cars, wincing as he noticed people were already climbing into their seats or pulling out of the parking lot completely. “We’ve been busy.” He said simply. Scotty looked over Elvis’s shoulder, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed your flushed cheeks. “Doin’ what, exactly?” The dark haired boy didn’t take kindly to the fact that someone else was seeing his girl in such a state, so he was quick to grab the edge of the door, closing it enough so that only his face and a small sliver of the room inside could be visible. “We were busy, alright? I’ll come out in a second. Let me just get my things together.” Scotty threw his hands up in surrender after noticing the look on Elvis’s face, taking two steps back from the door. “Be quick about it. We go on after Snow, and I’m tired of hearin’ the square complain.” Elvis was quick to shut the door, jogging over towards his suitcase so that he could find his shoes. “Baby? Do you mind doin’ my eyes like you have em?” He motioned to his eyes with his finger, flashing you a small smile. 
You weren’t about to give your boyfriend a smoky eye, but you hoped he’d be alright with just some eyeliner and mascara. Not that his long lashes needed them anyway. “If we’ve got time, hun.” Your legs still felt a bit weak, what with the heavy petting from earlier, but you managed to walk to your purse so that you could grab your small makeup pouch. Elvis buttoned up his black lace shirt as you gently dragged some dark liner over his upper and bottom lashline, being careful to smear it a little after you were done so that it wouldn’t be too stark against his complexion. “Here, now close your eyes.” You ran the mascara wand through his lashes, cooing softly to him as you realized just how blue it made his eyes look. “And open em.” He obeyed, his hands moving up to grab you softly by your hips as you finished up. “Am I pretty?” He asked with a teasing smile, tilting his chin upwards, which was his way of silently asking for a kiss. You complied, giving him a quick peck before pulling away to nod. “Gorgeous.” 
Elvis was the only boy that you had ever met that preferred to be called pretty rather than handsome. He was putty in your hands any time you referred to him as ‘your pretty boy’. Well, who was he kidding? He was always putty in your hands. He would be a liar if he said that he wasn’t used to female attention. He’d say ‘thank you’ with that signature side smile of his- but the grin- it was reserved only for you. The corners of his eyes would crinkle and his nose would scrunch up. It made him look so childlike. So vulnerable, and it was only something that you were allowed to see. You knew good and well that there were certain aspects of Elvis that you would have to share with his fans, but he made sure to reserve the most sacred parts only for you. 
“Thank ya, baby.” He mumbled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear before he stood up and off of the bed. 
The drive to the fairgrounds was awkward, but Elvis seemed to be the only one that didn’t get the memo. He had one of his hands in your lap, playing subconsciously with the fabric of your dress while he spoke under his breath to you. It was mostly hushed compliments, but the second that the bright lights of the fair became visible he started whispering gentle instructions. “I don’t want ya gettin’ lost in the crowd, alright now? Make your way to the front, just like we practiced. I want to be able to keep my eye on ya the entire time.” The ebony haired man had talked a big game back in the motel room, but you could tell that whatever his mother and father had said to him carried some weight. He seemed a little bit more antsy than he did the previous night. Despite the fact that nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, you still nodded, allowing him to pull you along through crowds. The closer you two got to the stage, the quicker people began to take notice of him. Girl’s turned their heads, some even going as far as to drop their date’s hand as he passed. He didn’t pay any mind, instead he kept his eyes locked on the stage, trying to find a good place for you to go. “Here, push your way right there.” He leaned in close so that you could hear him over Hank’s singing, pointing with his pinky, his newly purchased ring shining in the bright artificial light. You nodded, smiling against his lips as he gave you one last kiss before jogging to catch up with his band. You were quick to follow instruction, easily maneuvering through the crowd, muttering apologies as men and women turned to glare in your direction. 
You weren’t quite sure why, but you were starting to become nervous yourself. It felt like someone was watching you, and had been since you and Elvis passed the admission gates. You anxiously looked over your shoulders, trying to see if there might be anyone you recognized, but alas- nothing. You tried to swallow back the strange sense of dread that was beginning to bubble up in your throat, instead focusing on the stage in front of you. Hank Snow was a talent, but surely wasn’t your cup of tea. His ballads were too slow and shallow for your liking. Too safe. Elvis had been the one to get you hooked on good music way back in high school. You still clapped for Snow whenever he took a bow, flashing him a small smile. You and Elvis had been playing nice with the man. You two had a strong feeling that he didn’t take too kindly to the two of you and the flamboyant way you both decided to live your lives. He was never outwardly rude to you at least. Elvis wasn’t so lucky though. 
The second that the forest green suited country singer had stepped off the stage, it was almost as though the entire crowd took a collective breath to steady themselves. You bit the inside of your cheek as a few girls started pushing against your back, your chest and hips pressing uncomfortably against the wooden stage. In a single millisecond the aura had completely shifted. A few older patrons began to walk away from the stage, but it did nothing to lessen the crowd. People began running across the fairgrounds to make it to the stage in time. 
Scotty and Bill stepped on stage, dragging their instruments along with them. Girls began gasping, whispering amongst themselves as they waited for Elvis to join them. “Have you seen his picture in the paper? He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!” “My friend lives in Shreveport and saw him at the Louisiana Hayride. She said she’s never seen anything like it.” You couldn’t keep the knowing smirk off of your lips. If they thought he was beautiful from a grainy picture alone, just wait until they saw the way that the music moved him. You pressed your hands against the top of the stage, Scotty and Bill flashing you a quick smile just before the crowd erupted with loud screams. It made your ears ring. Elvis jogged up on stage, guitar in hand. His bare arms flexed as he gently strummed the chords, stepping up to the mic. “It’s an honor to be able to play here for you all tonight.” He called over the loud screams and cries. There was something perversly satisfying about seeing the hold that he had over everyone, knowing good and well that you were the only person that has ever and will ever touch him. Not even in the girl’s wildest fantasies would they ever know what he was truly like behind closed doors. The eyeliner that had the girls swooning? You had put that on him yourself. The soft sheen to his lips? That was the lipstick that had transferred onto him from your mouth. 
The girls could hoot and holler all they wanted. You didn’t blame them one bit. You didn’t feel even a little jealous as they began calling his name, begging for even a shred of his attention, because you knew that he was yours. He knew it too. His eyes instantly scanned the crowd, his shoulders visibly relaxing when he finally found your form. After Elvis and the boys had given the crowd a few moments to quiet down, they began playing their first song. The sound of Elvis’s voice and the quick, near violent way he strummed his guitar was unlike anything that you had ever heard before. It had changed something inside of you. You could tell that the crowd was having the exact same reaction as they watched him, swaying to the sound of the music. Some girls looked like they might pass out, their faces going pale and their eyes growing glassy. This was the kind of music that concerned mothers and fathers warned their children about. Rock and roll. 
Elvis was rock and roll. It wasn’t just a type of music or a way of dressing for him. It was the way that he lived his life. It was a state of mind. It was a state of being. His hips and feet moved as though he was possessed by God himself. He may as well have been. You could feel the standup bass in your chest, and Elvis’s guitar in your throat. Your blood fizzled like champagne as you watched him, his eyes bluer than a summer sky, his bubblegum pink lips pulled taught against bright white teeth as he screamed into the mic. His eyes moved over the crowd, and suddenly he was on his knees, leaning back to look up at the night sky as his fingers flew over the neck of the guitar. 
You couldn’t help yourself as you reached out, no better than the screaming fans as you brushed your fingers over his thigh, needing to touch him. You didn’t know how, but he instantly looked at you, as if he could feel that you were the one touching him. His eyes burned as he took in the expression on your face, his lips curling back into a snarl. Girls distantly screamed behind you as they took in his expression. 
Something like this wouldn’t be romantic to some, but you melted against the stage, your torso leaning further against the hardwood. You were sure to have bruises tonight, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You needed to be closer closer closer. Your body ached for him. You could feel his guitar vibrating through you, his heavenly voice bringing back memories of last night. Of how he loved to press his lips against your ear to purr and moan. He wanted you to hear every heavy breath, every gasp, every preen- and as he practically laid himself out on that stage, girls trying to grab at whatever they could, he had never felt more yours. He grabbed your face in his hands for a split second before he was standing back up, moving over to the mic so that he could finish up the song. 
By the second song there were at least three pairs of panties on the stage, which both you and Elvis regarded with wide, humor filled smiles. 
Elvis sang with a violence that he never let shine through in his everyday life. He got up on that stage and sang for his mama, his daddy, you and God. He belted up to the heavens for the angels to hear. You could feel the damn near desperation as he swayed his body, his hair falling into his eyes, dripping with sweat. 
After the third song you felt as though you might faint yourself. You could barely breathe as girls continued to press against you- crushing your ribs against the stage. You were never the type of girl to follow instruction very well, so despite Elvis and even Gladys’s worries, you found yourself slipping through the crowd, breathing hard as you tore your way through the writhing bodies. Your eyes swept over the grounds, and you were quick to make your way over towards a refreshment tent. “Can I just get a cup of water?” The carnie recognized you as Elvis’s girl instantly, smiling as he saw your pink cheeks and shaky hands. You sat down on a nearby picnic table as you greedily gulped down the water. You could hear his voice from across the grounds, tapping your foot along to the beat as you tried to enjoy the last of his performance. 
“Whatcha doin’ over here alone?” You jumped as you heard a deep voice sound from right beside you. You had been so wrapped up in the music that you hadn’t even noticed someone approaching you. You blinked, turning around just to make sure that there wasn’t someone else behind you that the man must have been talking to. Alas, you were the only person in the vicinity. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to get done performing.” You pointed to the stage, slowly placing the cup down on the table just in case you needed to quickly excuse yourself. He sat down beside you anyway, nodding his head slowly. The refreshment tent was a hundred feet away, and you were in an area with barely any lighting. You were beginning to become more aware of the precarious situation that you had somehow put yourself in. “Ah, right. I saw you walkin’ hand in hand with that scrawny musician.” Your eyes quickly narrowed as you stood up and off of the table. “I don’t take kindly to people bad mouthin’ my loved ones, ya understand? If a conversation was what you were lookin’ for, then find it elsewhere.” You spat, pointing over to another populated area. He blinked, seemingly taken aback by your bold nature. 
“Woah. . . you sure are loud for a tiny lil thing,” You took a step back as he stood up and off of the table himself, shoving his hands into his pockets as he gave you a once over. “Maybe you shouldn’t go ‘round dressin’ like that if ya don’t want strangers approachin’.” You could have socked the man right in the face. You began shaking with anger, clenching your fists at your sides. “What does my outfit have anythin’ to do with you unnecessarily runnin’ your mouth? Did ya think you insultin’ my boyfriend would make me interested in you? Hah!” You let out a loud, humorless laugh. “Like I said earlier; move along.” You shooed him off, reaching out for your water cup. You let out a scream as he grabbed you roughly by the wrist, your shoulder cracking as he roughly yanked you forward. “Watch yer mouth, girlie.” He spoke to you through clenched teeth, his eyes wide and wild. You swallowed thickly, fear hitting you like a freight train. You could distantly hear your boyfriend working the crowd, your stomach flipping anxiously as you realized he was about to get off stage and realize you weren’t there to greet him. 
“Let go of me. Rough housin’ with a lady out in public like this isn’t very gentlemanly.” You tried to yank your sore arm back to your side, but he didn’t let go. He added even more pressure, and you cried out in pain as you realized that he was damn near close to breaking it. “I don’t let women boss me ‘round.” His free hand moved up to your hair, his fingers gripping roughly as he jerked your head back. Was he about to kiss you? Touch you? 
You were unable to run now, and so you knew that the only option you had was to get someone’s attention. Anyone’s. “Help!” You screamed, your eyes prickling with tears as you tried to move your head in the man’s hold, hoping to avoid whatever he was planning to do with you. A beat passed before you finally sucked in another breath, screaming again. “Elvis!” Your boyfriend had been speaking into the microphone, but the second that you had called his name he went silent. You could distantly hear a loud clatter and a few females calling out his name, but you were too focused on the older man’s face to pay attention to much else. He was dragging you further into the darkness by your hair, and you stumbled blindly forward, reaching your arms out to push as hard as you could against his chest, even going as far as to bang your fist against his shoulders in the hopes of somehow fighting him off. 
It all happened so fast, you didn’t even have time to blink. You stumbled backwards, the breath being knocked from your lungs as you hit the grass. Hard. You could hear a tussle behind you, and you blinked back tears as you slowly sat up. It was like everything was happening in slow motion. The red faced stranger had been pushed back against the picnic table, pinned there, and your boyfriend stood above him, muscles bulging as he gripped him by the front of his shirt, wailing on him with his right arm. Again and again he connected his fist with the man’s face, his teeth clenched, the veins in his arms bulging as he let out a deep, guttural scream. Elvis had somehow, by the grace of god, heard your voice over a hundred screaming girls and came running to your rescue. A loud sob escaped your throat as both relief and pain overcame you. The pitiful sound only spurred him on. 
“I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Ya hear me? You’re dead!” Elvis’s deep voice called, a small crowd already beginning to form. You tried to stand up on shaky legs, embarrassment flooding your veins as you realized what kind of a state you were in. “E-Elvis. . . He’s had enough, baby!” 
Elvis had been pushed around and beat on his entire life for looking and being the way that he was. Over the years he had learned how to fight. How to win. He might have been smaller than the brute, but it wasn’t the size that mattered in this case. No- it was the skill and ferocity that your boyfriend possessed. That and the white hot rage. Elvis’s eyes were wild as he stared down at him, not letting up even for a second. The man had tried to push back against the ebony haired musician, but the blows to the head had kept him in a dazed state. Elvis’s gaudy golden ring made contact with the man’s temple again and again. The crowd began to part as a few men broke through, moving to try and pull your man off of the assailant. “You’re killin’ him, Elvis! Stop! Please, for the love of God!” At the sound of your distress he was quick to let go, shrugging the men’s hands off of him as he quickly made his way over to you. “Hey, hey. Talk to me darlin’. What happened.” His eyes flickered over your face wildly as he panicked. He stopped himself from reaching out for you when he realized his knuckles were caked in blood, wiping them off on his white pants. He brushed your hair off of your sweaty forehead, pressing his own forehead against your cheek, desperate to have you against him. To hear your breath and feel your heart beating against his chest. You could hear people trying to disperse the crowd, but you paid no mind to them. You kept your eyes locked on Elvis's shoulder as you fought off the urge to cry. “Talk to me, baby. You’re shakin’ like a leaf.” You gulped down deep breaths, finally moving your hands to grip onto his shirt. You rubbed your fingers against the lace, feeling his warm skin beneath. It soothed you. Helped you to stop your panicking. 
“EP. You take the car back to the motel. We’ll just ride with Jimmie and Hank back.” You heard Scotty’s voice beside you. Elvis slowly untangled one of his arms from your form, shoving the keys in his now ruined pants. “Let’s get to the car. Can you do that? Can you walk, sweet heart?” He purred, pulling away to look at your face. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, sucking in a hard breath as he noticed your tear caked face and wide teary eyes. His chest began to rise and fall quickly as he took deep breath after deep breath. “I should have gutted him.” You were quick to shake your head, stumbling back as you pulled him with you by his shirt. “L-Let’s just go okay? I wanna go.” You needed to get the hell out of there as fast as you could. Even if someone else had already come by and picked the stranger up. Even if you knew you were now well protected- it didn’t matter. You needed to go back to the motel room so that you could break down without having everybody’s eyes on you. You were sure that this fight would only add to Elvis’s sordid reputation as well. You were. . . you were just mortified. Elvis kept his arm tightly around you as he walked you through the fairgrounds, allowing you to tuck your head into his throat. He continued to mumble sweet words into your ear as the two of you made your way out into the car lot. Elvis helped you into the bright yellow car, going as far as to make sure you were well situated before moving on over to the drivers side. 
The car ride was silent. He didn’t even turn on the radio, which was rare for him. You rolled down the window, letting the wind whip your hair back and cool your hot face. By the time the two of you had made it back to the room you had already started to calm down. With the panic and adrenaline now out of your system, you could feel how badly your arm hurt. You kept your mouth shut about it, knowing that Elvis would probably tear the room apart in his haste to find the man responsible. He was being so sweet and tentative towards you, but you could tell that he was barely hanging on to his sanity. He’d always gone out of his way to watch over you. This wasn’t the first guy he’d gotten in a fight with over you. . . but never had it been this bad. Never. 
After you had told Elvis the entire story, save for the part where you were sure that you’d torn a muscle in your shoulder, he just sat there on the bed in silence. For a second you were sure that he was going to react with more anger, but you would have been wrong. Your lips parted as you watched his blue eyes fill with tears. After a few seconds he let out a loud sob, his body shaking as he practically caved in on himself. Never in your entire life had you ever seen him so upset. He began rubbing his own arms with his hands, as if to comfort himself, to get himself to stop crying. Not even your own loving hands and soothing words could stop him. His body was wracked with sobs as he pulled his knees up to his chest, pressing his forehead against the tops of his thighs. “Baby? Baby what’s wrong?” You gripped him by the chin, gently leaning his head back so that you could look at him. The mascara had begun running down his cheeks, his eyelashes clumping together. His lip quivered as he tried to get the words out because another loud hiccup shook his shoulders. “I don’t deserve you. I-I can’t live with myself after a-all of that happened.” He wiped at his eyes, only smearing the makeup even more. 
If you thought his eyes had looked blue before, now they looked like sapphires. 
Burning bright. Burning sad. 
“It’s not your fault, hun. None of that was your fault. I-I. . . I moved away from the crowd. I’m the one to blame.” He shook his head, his jaw going slack. 
“Are you insane, y/n? You’re my girl. My baby,” He dropped his legs so that he could bang his hand against his chest to emphasize the words. “It’s my job to keep you safe. Keep you takin’ care of. I was up there singin’ like a fool while you were havin’ your hair ripped out of your little head. I promised your daddy. . . your mama that I was goin’ to look after you until the day that i died, and look what happened under my watch.” You could have started crying yourself. He was shakin’, his eyes wide, cheeks stained and streaked with mascara and eyeliner.
If you had thought that he looked like a God up on that stage, now he looked like a fallen angel. 
“You couldn’t have known any of that was gonna happen. You did the best that you cou-” “Well my best isn’t damn good enough!” You jerked back as he screamed, watching as his hands moved up to his head, gripping- yanking- at his hair. In front of you sat a man who had spent his whole life doing for others. He financially provided for his parents, even during high school. He worked three jobs just to put food on the table and gas in his daddy’s car, all while counting pennies to buy himself a coke from the corner store. He felt like he had to watch over everyone he loved. That their happiness and safety relied on him. 
“You’re perfect and you’re mine.” You reached out, holding him against yourself so tightly that you were sure one of your rib cages were sure to break. ‘Fuck it’, you thought. ‘Let it shatter’. “There isn’t anything you could have done to prevent it, baby. All I can say is that imma be careful from now on. I won’t leave your side. Not ever again.” He was pulling on your clothes, pulling on your hair, clutching you to him like he was scared that you might dissipate into thin air. You let him claw at you- dig his calloused fingers into your soft skin. “Please. Please never leave me. I-I can’t take it.” 
If you had ever questioned whether or not Elvis truly loved you, you sure as hell never would again. The man was practically destroying himself over a situation that he had no control over, all because you had gotten hurt. “Never. I’m not goin’ anywhere, darlin’.” That was all he needed to hear. In the blink of an eye he had you pinned down to the bed, his hands clumsily fumbling with the bottom of your dirt stained dress. “E-Elvis! What are you doin’?” You tried grabbing his hands to stop him, but he was a man on a mission. “Let me make it up to you.” Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly as his fingers found your panties. He was tearing them off of you in a second. “T-There’s nothing to make up for! Let me love on you, for Christ’s sake. You need to calm down.” His eyes flickered back up to meet yours, and he sniffled softly, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His eyes were hard, but no longer teary. “I am calm. I just. . . I feel like I can’t breathe if I’m not touchin’ you right now. So let me. . . let me touch you.” Your eyes fluttered as you looked up at him, his gaze hard, bordering on animalistic. It was as if you had been transported back to his show. His hand gripping your face, eyes boring into your own as he moved just for you. You worshiped him just as he worshiped you. Elvis Presley was one of a kind. No one had ever been born like him before, and nobody ever would be even after he was gone. You were sure of it. 
He pushed your skirt up and over your hips, kissing down your body as though he could absorb the fear that you had felt earlier. He usually liked to tease you in order to get you worked up, but he didn’t tonight. No- His lips and tongue lapped you up like you were made of honey, and when his eyes flickered up to meet yours from between your legs, he beheld you as if you were some glittery, golden thing. His fingers brushed up your body, cupping your breast through your dress, working your already hardening nipples with his fingers. You cried out, back arching as the pleasure steadily began to build. 
He pulled at the neckline of your stained dress, his tongue running all the way up from your entrance to your clit- slow slow slow. His eyebrows furrowed, humming as he tasted you. He cupped your now freed breasts, pinching the nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. 
You were panting so hard you were sure that you might pass out. Your hand gripped hard at the sheets as he continued to work your clit over with his tongue, his eyes falling shut as he savored you. His thick, long lashes casted shadows on his cheeks. Every once and a while they would flutter, like the beating of a butterfly's wings. In the dull lamp light of the dingy motel room, covered in dirt and grass stains, you felt your heart swell to the point of bursting. Your eyes filled with tears as you stared up at the ceiling, your plush lips parting as a sob ripped from your throat. 
You were wracked with both pleasure and a crippling sense of hope. You loved this man more than anything else. You’d love him in this life, in the next life, and into whatever came next. 
He was everything. 
And on cue the man’s free hand found yours, which had been tangled up in the sheets. He intertwined his fingers, gripping you tight. You weren’t sure why- but that was what pushed you over the edge. You dug the back of your head into the mattress as you climaxed, eyes squeezing shut. His hand moved from your breasts to your thigh, holding it to the side so that he could continue his attack, riding you through your orgasm. He didn’t stop there. Your free hand tangled into his hair, chanting his name as though it was some ancient spell. Your body quivered against him, thighs naturally trying hard to squeeze together, to stop him from continuing to push you over the edge. He didn’t stop, his tongue focusing on your bundle of nerves. Before you knew it you were building up all over again, your cunt dripping with slick and spit, and quite possibly tears. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. 
You weren’t even sure if you were speaking coherently when you climaxed for the second time. You thought that you were praising him, telling him how pretty he was and how good, but you couldn’t be sure. His tongue slowly slid down to your entrance, lazily lapping up your cum before he sat up on shaky knees, pupils blown out, cheeks pink. 
His lips were shining in the low light, and he was quick to lick them, as if he needed to swallow every last drop of you, like it was some precious nectar. The kind that someone only got to taste once in a lifetime. After he had finally caught his breath he laid down next to you, hanging one of his arms over the side of the bed as he stared at your face. His eyes were impossibly soft, his face still wet with tears. “I love seein’ you like this.” His voice was gruff, thick with lust and something else. Something even more beautiful. “What? All sweaty and quiverin’?” You attempted to tease, but you were still breathing too hard for the joke to really land. “No. . . no-” he raised a hand up, pushing your hair off of your forehead. 
“I love seeing you in love with me.” 
check out the third chapter of this story !
@bookklover23 @medleyj @idkwhattthisisss @dharnwjs @slutforsomegoodlettuce @crackerbarrelslut @macey234 @nightfiress @keepdrivingrr @melodydior @luvvrrrrr @mymamalife @wwebby657 @shynovelist @ssstrangersblog
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Text
Chapter Four
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Paring: Geralt x Reader
Summary: Reader is thrown into the Witcher’s world. Will she survive? Eventual smut may come about😉
A/N: This is the fourth part in a series. I as usual have not edited or proofread. Please do not repost, translate or copy my work without permission. Please leave comments! ❤️ @sparks363​ - I didn’t forget you babes xoxo
Chapter One    Chapter Two   Chapter Three
“I’m not talking about it.” I whisper shout at him across the fire. I peek over at Ciri to make sure she’s still asleep.
“Avoiding talking about it won’t make it go away.” He says looking at me with those stupid golden judgmental eyes.
For the past 2 days I have avoided talking about my little power show at Nevillen’s. Partly because I’m freaked the fuck out about it and partly because I’m freaked THE FUCK. The look Geralt has been giving me is not the ‘I want to slam you against the wall in a hot way’ but the ‘I’m going to get this out of you one way or another. You might not like the other.’ Kind of way. So far I have managed to dodge every question about this. I definitely feel myself losing my resolve.
“Really? So far avoiding it has been working.” I reply looking back down at my hands. I hear his frustrated sigh for the 70th time about this.
“Must you be this stubborn about this?” He says with a slight edge in his voice.
“Must you be so fucking pushy about this?” I quietly hissed.
“For her safety, yes. Now are you going to tell me or keep wasting my time?” He growls lowly. I look over to Ciri for a moment and then back to Geralt.
“I..I don’t know what happened. When I heard Ciri cry out… it felt like something snapped. Like a rope pulled too tight. The next thing I knew Vereena was impaled and I was exhausted.”I look back at the flames flickering in the fire.
“Can you control it?” He asks.
“No..I…I don’t know. Maybe?” I shrug.
“Fuck.” He murmurs. Fuck indeed.
The road to Kaer Morhen was a long and cold one. My favorite part was how uneventful it was. No dangers lurking around the corner. Ciri and I grew closer, sharing loud laughs and swapping stories . He liked it, I know it made him happy if only to see Ciri laugh even when we got a bit loud. During the journey Geralt and I stayed clear of each other unless Ciri was awake. No idle conversation unless it was a “Are you hungry? I’m going to get firewood. You should sleep. Type of things. Our relationship mimicked awkward divorced parents forced to live in the same house sharing custody of their kid. My whole glowing energy thing has been rather non existent. Ciri and Geralt seem to think it only happens under extreme stress. Which doesn’t exactly explain why I didn’t kick some as at my kidnapping. Sleeping outside in the cold though not a big fan of that. Eating outside in the cold. Peeing outside in the cold two words fucking bullshit.
When we finally had Kaer Morhen in our sight I sagged in relief even if it looked considerably worse than in the show. The snow still falling around us as Ciri and I dismount from Roach. I look around trying to remember where I can find a door that leads to warmth. How Geralt and Ciri aren’t anxious to get inside puzzles me. Eventually I follow Geralt into a hall considerably big for the amount of people in the room. I look down at ciri and give her a “reassuring” smile. Ciri then looks to Geralt who gives her the only smile I have ever seen from him which is huge.
Geralt walks up to one of the men in the room and they meet in the middle. After an odd welcome they embrace each other with smiles and laughs. Ciri and I look at each other in slight shock at the sight in front of us. I shrug as our attention turns back to the men. I begin walking to them with Ciri right by my side. An older man with white hair that almost matches Geralt stands. I can only assume that’s the famous Vesemir. Ciri walks to stand behind Geralt with me on the other side of Ciri. The ever needed buffer between the two of us. Vesemir nods questioningly at the two of us. Vesemir locks eyes assessing narrowing at Ciri before he looks at me. I raise my eyebrow in a slight challenge before a smirk comes to his lips. Geralt moves to greet all the men in the hall.
Soon we sit and begin eating. My favorite part more than food was being warm even with the gaping hole in the ceiling. I laugh at the stories the men swap becoming drunker with time.The relief only lasted a short time before remembering the next part in this story as Eskel entered the hall. While everyone is making toast.
“Too forgetting the fucking path for one fucking night. Who’s ready?” He shouts as feral goes to greet him.
“Eskel.” They all say warmly. As Geralt hugs him. They share a laugh at Eskel’s expense when suddenly he notices Ciri. Before he can get too close I step in front of him.
“Who the hell are you?” He frowns at me. I let out a small breath when he focuses on me instead.
“Not the one that took six hours to fight a monster.” I say. The room breaks out in concealed laughs at my comment. Eskels face scrunches in dislike. He looks around me to look at Ciri.
“And who the hell is she then?”
With all the poise of royalty she leans back. “I am Princess Cirilla of Centra. Pleasure to meet you.” I look down to hide my smile.
Sometime later I find myself wandering the castle. If it weren’t for the gaping holes, the rats, and the complete lack of indoor plumbing it wouldn’t be so bad. Trying to find a bathtub around here has proven less than fruitful. I keep my search going only to run into Vesemir.
“If you tell me what you are looking for I might be able to help you ,my lady.”
“I’ve been looking for a bathtub. It’s been almost two weeks and I’m smelling pretty ripe.” I laugh a little awkwardly. Vesemir looks at me and chuckles.
“There’s a hot spring in the lower parts of the keep. I will escort you. Where is the girl? I’m sure she would like to bathe as well.” He says, leading me to the hot springs.
“I’m sure she is somewhere she shouldn’t be. Doing something Geralt told her not to do.” I sigh just thinking about it.
“You protect the girl as if she is yours.”
“She certainly feels like it these days. What gave me away?” I laugh.
He chuckles. “You putting yourself between her and Eskel certainly didn’t help with keeping your secret if that was what you were intending.”
“Well I suppose subtleties are best used for politicians rather than Witcher’s.”
“Geralt told me about you,” He said looking at me.
“I’m not surprised by that. If he told you, you know I can’t answer any questions about the future. Trying to talk about it or interfering in critical moments leaves me in pain.” I explain.
“Geralt said that you know him. That you know all about his past and Ciri’s.”
“I know more of the major moments than the small details.” I say. I begin to hear music playing and the faint sound of happy voices.  “I know that Deglan was the one who created the monsters that witchers kill and are killed by.” The shock on his face lasted for a split second, but I still see it. “These things are known where I’m from.” I explained.
“How did you get here? Why are you here?”
“I don’t know. I simply woke up here in the middle of the snow. My best guess as to why I think I’m here to protect Ciri.” I sigh and shrug.
“You know about the night she fled Cintra. You also know what she is.” He states more than asking ,eyes narrowing again. I say nothing. “What are you?” He asks.
“Fairly fucked I’d  say but only time will tell.” He laughs at my words and I can’t help but smile. Better to laugh than cry. We start to pass the great hall as the cheering becomes louder. I turn the corner to see topless women and half drunk men grinding against them. I sigh in annoyance.
“They all become idiots when women are involved.” He says laughing as he watches on.
“It’s nice to know men stay consistent no matter where I go.” I say and Vesemir laughs again. I look to see Geralt come out. I look around for Ciri and see her nowhere to be found. I turn to Vesemir to speak, he interrupts me before I can get the words out.
“Go on, find the girl. I will show you the spring once you have her.” He gestures with his chin. I give him a grateful smile. I walk down the stairs to find where Geralt has left Ciri. When I get there I see one of the women holding his hand in her’s. The smallest part of me is annoyed watching that.
“-softest thing about you was that you paid.”
“She’s not my daughter.”
“Oh well in that case I could take her in. She’d have the boys eating out of her hands.” She says still rubbing his arm. I interrupt just as Geralt takes a step forward threateningly. He wouldn’t kill her but Unwilling to take the chance I step in front of him.
“That’s a big fuck no. I’d say thank you for your interest but I would be lying. I’m not sure I’d like to waste her education on whoring. Tell me, can you read?” I give her a toothy smile. She starts to say something when I hear a slight growl from Geralt before he turns with an irritated look walking away.
“I didn’t need your help.” He says as I turn around.
“I know you didn’t but she did. Where is your not daughter, daughter at?” I ask him. He looks down at me, narrowing those golden eyes before grunting. “I feel like we have been over this before. Grunting is not an answer. Where is she?” I snap.
“In the armory. I told her to stay there.” I sigh. Pinching the bridge of my nose because if we have learned anything Ciri rarely listens. I turn and begin but before I even take a step I see Eskel. I pause. My chest falls into my stomach and I feel myself growing warm like with the bruxa. Geralt pushes me in the door frame behind us.
“You were starting to glow. What is it?” He asked. I meet his eyes. I start shaking my head. “Something is going to happen isn’t it? He questions me again. I look down at my feet.
“I can’t tell you. You know that.” I feel a wave of sorrow come over me for Geralt. Knowing the next part won’t be easy for him killing his brother. On instinct I grab his hand giving it a light squeeze. “I’m sorry Geralt.” I whisper.
I let go of his hand and turned away, beginning to walk through the crowd to make my way to the lab. I see Eskel with a blonde haired woman. I stop for just a second and he meets my eyes for a moment before turning around and places his lips to hers peeking at me. Geralt passes me and pulls him away from the women. I turn and rush to Ciri. I run around forgetting where the armory is. Eventually I find the armory and Ciri in it with Vesemir and feel relieved.
“I’m not sure if I should be more surprised that you are where Geralt said you would be or if you actually listened to him and stayed.” I laugh. She turns and smiles at me with a blush of embarrassment and Vesemir laughs. “Vesemir agreed to take us to the hot springs. Only if you are finished here?” I grin. Ciri nods her head when the room shakes a bit and dust falls from the ceiling.  Vesemir and I lock eyes and he leaves without a word.
“What is it?” Cir ask looking at me. I grab her wrist and start pulling her behind me to our rooms. She pulls her arm from my hand and I stop. “What’s happening?” She demands.
“Geralt is in trouble and I need to make sure you’re safe.” I grab her and turn to walk again. She pulls away from me again. “Ciri we don’t have time for this!” I shout.
“If Geralt is in trouble then we need to help him.” She says Bolting to find Geralt. I run after her but she’s fast.
“Fuck. fuck. Fuck. fuck. Fuck. fuck.” I chant running after her. This is not what happens in the fucking show!! 
I finally catch up with Ciri at the lab she enters and Geralt turns his head to Ciri telling her to run, getting him impaled by Eskel. He grunts in pain as Eskel pulls the branch back out of Geralt’s side. I run to grab Ciri and just as I am about to reach for her a branch wraps around her waist and pulls her away from me. The burning starts quickly. I scream and go after her. I manage to doge the branches. Vesemir is trying to wiggle out from the branches surrounding him. Ciri screams, reaching for Geralt. I see Eskel start squeezing Ciri and Vesemir tighter.
What happens next feels like someone has pulled me out of the front seat in my mind. I watch myself  shatter the branches that have slid up wrapping around me. Every branch that comes my way sets fire as soon as it touches me. I vaguely hear the screams from the leche as I walk forward. It lets go of the girl  throwing her across the room. I throw out a hand that catches her in a shield and I lower her to the ground. The black eyed man tries to chase after her when another vine wraps around him, tossing him into a wall.
My head snaps back to the monster in front of me. The vines that once held the girl all come shooting from me and they quickly burn away.  When I finally reach the Leshy at the center of the room, I stop and look at him. His head cocks to the side as his vines loosen around the old man. I see his mouth move but I don’t hear the words as I shove my hand through his chest and the center of him begins to smoke. The sounds around me still don’t register. I pull my hand from his chest and watch as he falls to the ground.
The older man approaches me. I look at him. From the corner of my eye I see a man walking to the girl. I throw out a hand that blasts him back. I move to the girl and see her lying there eyes closed. I lean down to touch her when I hear someone calling a name. My head whips around. The black eyed man is coming near me. I feel myself burn hotter as he nears and I sneer as he steps closer to us. He holds up both of his hands as he takes another step.
Some part of me must finally recognize him when I feel the energy burning against me start to dissipate. I feel my breathing calm and I slowly feel like I am being pulled back into my body. I stand there looking at Geralt confused. As to why he’s standing like that. I open my mouth to ask him when I lose the ability to stand. Geralt catches me before I hit the floor. My eyes feel incredibly heavy and I sink into oblivion.
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littlespacereader · 8 months
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Could I request a fic with Caregiver!Layla (Scarlet Scarab) with little reader???
Of course I can!!! As a HUGE Moon Knight fan I can’t begin to tell you how excited I was to write this! I hope you don’t mind that I had Marc/Steven pop in for a little cameo:) I couldn’t resist! If you want another Moon Knight fic feel free to send a request in!! Anyway I hope you enjoy this fic!!
The Goddess of Caregiving (SFW)
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Caregiver!Layla El-Faouly & GN Little!Reader
Tags: mentions violence and knifes (not detailed), hurt and comfort, stuffie, taking care of injuries, thumb sucking, story time, low-key Marc and Steven cgs
Nicknames: Sweet one, little one, sweetheart and darling
Yelling. It was everywhere. People yelling and running away. The city was under attack by some wear guy with a light up cane! He and his goons were attacking the city and its people.
I just started running. Running as fast as my feet could take me away from the scene. Apparently there was a guy in all white fighting them but I didn’t get a good glance.
I was just watching cartoons on the tv with my stuffed animal bunny when I heard all the commotion outside. People started screaming to runway as a group of criminal started to hurt those around.
So Fluffy and I started running. There were a couple of people around me running as well. Where we were running to, no one knows. Just away from whatever is happening. My little side just wanted to stop and cry but I couldn’t, not just yet, I had to get to safety first.
But the group of bad guys caught up to us. Most of the people took a left and ran down the alleyway. I took a right and ran down the road. Little did I know this road was a dead end alley.
I ran as far as I could, falling once onto my knees but quickly recovering and running again. But suddenly I came across a wall infront of me. My heart was beating out of my chest. There was no where to run now. I clutched Fluffy to my chest and turned around.
Two tall men stood in front of me, both holding knives in their hands.
“Awwwww! Look what we got here, a Regressor.” One said.
“Took a wrong turn little one?” The other mocked.
Tears started to roll down my face as I started to cry. As they approached I just started to back up until my back was against the wall. I curled in on myself, dropping to the ground and brining my knees to my chest to covering my face.
Suddenly I heard fighting. I jumped thinking they were about to hurt me but then I heard them yelling and gasping in pain. Then two thuds! The two fall to the ground unconscious.
“Are you hurt little one?” A feminine voice asked me.
I was shaking. Maybe this was a trick! Maybe she worked with them?!
“It’s okay sweet one. Those bad men are not going to hurt you anymore. I made sure of it. Take your time, but when you untangle yourself I want to check and make sure you didn’t get hurt.”
Maybe this wasn’t a trick. She seemed nice and she said she took care of those scary men. So with all the bravery I could muster, I decided to look up.
With teary eyes I looked at the woman who was talking to me. She was heavenly. She truly looked like angel sent to protect. She wore a white and gold outfit with golden wings at her sides. She looked sweet, looking at me with caring eyes.
“There you are. Hello darling. What’s your name?” She was kneeling next to me, close enough to reach out and hold my hand but distant enough to give me space just in case.
“I’m…I’m Y/N.” I said with a shaken voice.
“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Layla.” She smiled. “Who’s your little friend there?” She pointed to my stuffie.
“Fluffy. Fluffy the rabbit.” I lifted Fluffy to see her.
“What a cute rabbit! It’s nice to meet you as well Fluffy.”
“Are….are you a goddess?” I asked unsure if she was even real.
She smiled and nodded. “I’m the avatar of the goddess Taweret, but I’m still getting used to it.” She said gesturing to her outfit.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry these terrible men scared you. Are you alone or did you get parted from your Caregiver?” She asked looking around.
“I’m by myself with Fluffy. I heard the bad men and I started to run.” I explained.
“That was very brave of you. But it isn’t safe for you to be alone tonight. Plus you need someone to take care of your injuries.” She looked worried as she started to figured out what to do.
“Injuries?”
I got hurt? I looked down at myself and saw it. My fall caused my knees to get scraped. Now my knees were bleeding down my legs. It was as if my adrenaline had hid the pain until I saw it with my own eyes.
I let out a sob I didn’t know I was holding. I started to cry, holding Fluffy as tight as I possibly could to myself.
“It’s okay darling, it’s just a little scrape. Nothing we can’t fix.” Layla placed a gentle hand on my back and started to rub comfortingly.
“Here, come over to me darling,” she held her arms out to me, silently offering to hold me.
She didn’t have to say much. Between the painful scrapes on my knees and how little I’m feeling, all I wanted was comfort. So when she opened her arms I immediately took the opportunity to get some comfort.
She brought me close and picked me up off the ground, careful of my knees. She held me on her hip, one arm supporting my bottom and the other holding onto my back. I leaned forward and started to cry on her shoulder.
She continued to rub my back and bounce my on her hip. “It’s okay sweetheart. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
Layla was just so comforting. Crying a bit in her arms felt like such a relief. After everything that happened today I needed to just let go and be upset. After a while my tears has stopped and I was more exhausted than anything else. Finally my adrenaline went down and I felt safe enough to be tired.
“Alright sweetheart we need to get you taken care of,” Layla started to say.
“Layla!” A voice said down the alley way.
I frozen in Layla’s arms and buried my head in her shoulder. I started to shake in fear.
She looked at me and tried to comfort me, “It’s alright. He’s a friend of ours. He’s a good man.”
I didn’t look up but I heard the man run over to the two of us. “Harrow is taken care of. The city should be safe now.” There was a pause, probably when the guy realized I was in Layla’s arms. Then suddenly guy’s voice changed to a British accent out of no where, “Who’s this little one?”
“Steven, this is Y/N and the rabbit is Fluffy. They were fighting these two bad guys over here when I arrived. Didn’t even have to lift a finger to help.” Layla said, trying to lift the little one’s spirits with her story.
“Wow Y/N! That was very brave of you! You should be very proud of yourself!” The man added.
With all the compliments and praise I started to come out of my shell a bit. I lifted my head and looked at the man. He was wearing a white suit and had curly black hair. His face lit up the moment we caught eyes.
“Thank you,” I said to his compliment.
“You are so welcome darling. Oh my gosh you are just the cutest. Are you out here all by yourself?” He asked and I nodded. “We gotta get you checked out.”
I held onto Layla tighter hearing that. But Layla was already two steps ahead of Steven, having already figured out a plan for me.
“I’m going to take Y/N back to the apartment.” She explained to Steven.
Then she looks at me. “It’s not too far from here. I don’t want you going to a clinic or hospital alone with how regressed you are. But we need to take care of your injuries. So if you want we can go to my apartment and I can bandage you up. Sound good?” She asked me.
I looked at Layla and nodded. I didn’t want to be away from her for a second. She felt so safe. Plus she was going to take care of me!
“I know Marc is going to want to do one last sweep of the area to make sure we haven’t missed anything.” Steven added. He looked back at me and Fluffy, patting our heads. “I’ll see you three laters gators.”
And then he was off. Leaving it back to just Layla and myself.
“Alright, now I haven’t flown with someone in my arms before so it might be a rocky flight. You just hold on tightly to me okay?”
Wait we’re flying to her apartment?! Before I had a chance to question it we took off in the air and were soaring! I wrapped my arms around Layla’s neck and held on tightly. It was such a sight to see the city from that high up! Wow!!
We landed down in front of this small apartment door. Layla unlocked the door and we entered the apartment. It was such a cute apartment! It was spacious and cozy.
A fire place sat in the middle of the living room with a comfy looking couch infront of it. Next to the couch looked like the entrance to a terrace. Right off to the left of the front door was the kitchen and to the right looked like a hallway to the bedrooms. All over her walls and shelves were artifacts of different kinds and books with pages bookmarked.
She walked into the kitchen with me and sat me down on the countertop. I immediately started to whine. I’m happier in her arms!
My whine must’ve told her everything I was thinking because she just turned around and smiled. “I’ll happily hold you again sweetheart but first we gotta get your knees takes care of.”
With that she started searching her kitchen cabinets for the first aid kit. “It’s around here somewhere….ah! There it is!” She pulled it out from under the kitchen sink.
She set it beside me and started pulling out the supplies she needed. “You know, I’ve had to use this kit on Marc on numerous occasion.”
“Who’s Marc?” I asked curious. The only other person I knew besides her was Steven. But Steven mentioned a Marc also…
“Oh, ummm, I meant to say Steven. But you’ll come to find they’re one and the same.” She winked.
“Okay, first I’m going to wash your cuts with hydrogen peroxide. Then we’re going to clean it up, and put a nice colorful bandaid on it.” She said carefully explains everything to me. I nodded my head, holding onto Fluffy tightly.
With that she started to wash one of my knees with the hydrogen peroxide. But it hurt!!
“Ahhh!! It burns! It hurts!!” I started to cry and hold my knee away from the burning solution.
“I promise it’s just a little burn and then it’s okay. It helps get all the germs out of your cuts.” She tried to explain but my little mind just recognized the pain along with it.
“Nooo!!” I held my knee away from her and the terrible peroxide! Tears started to roll down my cheeks again.
Layla stood back and started to think of a good solution to this problem. She looked over at her bookshelves and an idea popped into her head.
“Y/N, have you read this book?” She walked over and grabbed a book on Egyptian gods and goddess of the shelf.
“No.” I said, looking over at her as she brought the book over. She handed it to me to look through. Once it was in my hands she wiped a few tears away off my cheek.
“There you are. It’s okay. Why don’t you take a look at the different pages.”
I looked at her, then the book, and started flipping pages. I wanted to find the goddess she was the avatar of. She was talking about that earlier. Finally I found the right page.
“Taweret!!” I turned the book and showed her happily.
“Well done darling! You’re right! That’s the goddess I’m the avatar of.” She smiled.
“Can you talk to her?” I asked.
“Yeah, she sort of talks to me inside my head and I can answer her back.”
“Wow!” I looked at her amazed. “What is she saying?”
Layla smiled at my wonder. “She absolutely adores you. She’s been screaming about how cute you are since I first spotted you.”
“Really?!” I couldn’t help but smiled and giggle.
“Oh yeah. She has not stopped talking about you. I can’t blame her.” She reached up and pinched my cheeks playfully. I giggled again before pulling away.
I flipped through the book some more before stumbling across another god. This one looked scary though…
“Who’s Khonshu?” I asked turning the book around to Layla.
“That’s the god of the Moon.” She began to explain. “Steven is his avatar.”
“Oh.” It all started to make sense…I guess. “Are you superhero and sidekick?” I asked.
She laughed, “Yes he’s my sidekick.” She joked to herself.
“Alright! Your knees are all taken care of. Would you like a green, tan or purple bandaid for your knees?”
Wait what?!
I closed the book and looked down at my knees. There was no more blood. Just a mild scrape. While I was reading the book she must’ve cleaned my knees up. I looked up at her in amazement. I didn’t feel any pain or really anything! She just smiled back at me.
“That’s not a goddess power, that’s a Caregiver’s power.” She winked. “Which bandaid color would you like?”
I picked out a bandaid and she put it on my knees. “Now all we need is a little kiss to make it better.” She leaned forward and kissed each knee. “There! All better!”
I looked down at my knees and smiled up at her. “Thank you!!”
“You’re so welcome.” She lifted me back into her arms and walked into the living room.
“Now I sadly am not prepared for a Little like yourself so I don’t have much in the way of toys. But I do have a couple of book I think you’d be interested in.” She grabbed a couple of book and put them on the coffee table.
Then she took a seat on the couch with me sitting in her lap. She reach forward and grabbed a book. I curled into her side, resting my head on her shoulder, thumb in my mouth and my eyes scanning the pages as Layla began to read.
~~~
“Layla?” Marc said stepping into the apartment sometime later.
He was greeted by shushing. “Over here,” Layla whispered.
Marc made his way into the living room and found an adorable sight. The Little he had seen earlier was sound asleep wrapping tightly in Layla’s arms. Their head rested on her shoulder, their thumb was in their mouth and their stuffed animal was in their lap.
“I guess we have a new member of the family.” Marc smirked.
Layla smiled as well. She leaned forward and placed a kiss to Y/N’s head. “You guessed right.”
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citrinebahng · 1 year
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Moments 01 | bang chan
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Characters: Bang Chan x female reader (y/n)
Genre: idol oneshot (both are idols)
⁘ idol series | bc
Warnings: mentions of getting hurt (getting cut), brief mentions of blood, kind of drowning in a non die-ish way(?), random povs (first person, second, third), grammatical errors, grammatical errors and lots of grammatical errors
A/N: I hope you guys excuse my writing. Lemme know if you want more details/parts from each scenario<3
Word Count: 951
Summary: After your relationship has been made public, it didn't take long for the both of you to take advantage of the times whenever you two meet in public and show some pda, giving fans the butterflies with your encounters.
1
Y/n and her group was nominated for best song of the year on MAMA, along with her being nominated for best OST. The girls were admired for their hard work and how fast their success was even being only 3 years in the industry.
Being on the red carpet was a thrill for the girls. Multiple big idols and groups were seen in the event including Stray Kids.
The red carpet, hosts and cameras and fans warmly greeted the girls. They introduced themselves and hosts started asking them a few questions about the group and a few about y/n and Chan's relationship.
Though it was hard to not get shy about it, she tried to keep things professional by not over sharing and getting all the attention about the relationship instead of the group's achievement.
Later on, Chan and y/n were seen greeting each other and some fans mentioned about a forehead kiss he gave her.
2
Chan often has vlives to interact with fans. It has been a few weeks after both of your companies have released their official statements confirming the dating rumors.
Just as the live was starting, fans started commenting and asking about the relationship, but Chan wasn't really paying much attention until in the middle of the live for he was busy talking about the song 3racha was working on, casually oversharing about what it's going to be about.
"'Chan, what can you say about y/n getting nominated and winning this year's Best OST Award?'" He said with his aussie accent as he read the comment, getting a little shy as he read your name.
"Um, I can really say that she, uh, they, deserved it very much. And that they've been working really hard for it, and I know how badly she wanted to win alongside with her group." He spoke.
3
You and Chan have been recently invited to a variety show where k-celebrity couples were to play missions while traveling different places in South Korea.
In one episode, you were brought to a water falls, hidden in the mountains.
Cameras captured moments when Chan would help you climb slippery roads, he'd hold your hand and would ensure your safety even before his.
When you guys reached the place, you then got ready to swim in the water along with your boyfriend and your other friends.
"Wow, after all that walking we finally got here!" Whein, one of your co-hosts said.
"It's really worth it once you get here." Another added.
You were given missions and games to do when you started taping, but mainly it was all about you guys swimming in the falls.
You were so excited to swim that once you got there, you weren't even talking to Chan and was busy swimming, talking to friends and finding fishes that weren't even there.
Whenever Chan felt like the cameras weren't directed to him or you, he'd swim silently to get to you and would jokingly scare you out of the blue.
You'd sometimes hold onto his shoulders whenever he swims, dragging you along with him where ever he went.
One time, he suddenly went down while you were behind him, holding onto his bare shoulders making you unintentionally drink some of the water.
At first he was laughing because of how red your nose became. But then you were already crying because you felt overwhelmed.
"Oh my, are you okay y/n?" Krystal said.
"Ah Chan what did you do?" Seungmin added.
"I'm sorry baby," He said as he wiped the tears and stray hair out of your face and gave you a forehead kiss that made everyone feel butterflies.
"Are you okay?" He asked and you nodded, confirming that you were okay.
4
You would often visit Chan in his dormitory and spend some nights over. Though you were dating for 4 years, you guys didn't really rush things and keeping things old school, you guys would get married first before settling down and live together. But that was far ahead since you both were focusing on your career.
The day you went over, he was having a vlive in his bedroom. So you didn't bother and went to the kitchen after letting him know that you already arrived.
You were cooking food that he loved since it was near their comeback and he was very stressed about getting everything perfect to not disappoint fans.
Just then, in the middle of his live, you somehow open the door forgetting that he was live, showing him your quickly bleeding finger.
"I don't really want to give spoilers but-" He cut in the middle of his sentence, when he saw you there, bleeding.
"Hey," He left his phone on the bed and went to you directly.
"I was cutting veggies, and," you said through your little sobs.
Ever since you were young, you have always been scared of blood. They made you feel anxious and sick.
He was comforting you through your sobs as he went over to his bed with you and reached for the drawers that probably had first-aid.
The comments were confused why they were hearing sobs, where Chan was (since he can't be seen in the frame) and what happened.
Since you already washed your hands, he quickly wrapped your finger with gauze and wrapped tape to secure it.
After comforting you, you went back to the living room as Chan said he'd be the one to take care of dinner.
He then explained what had happened to fans and they immediately started praising him for prioritizing her and comforting her calmly. He answered a few more questions before ending the live and helping you cook in the kitchen.
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rascalthehamster · 2 years
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Yandere Glamrock Freddy pt. 3
You wake up with a throbbing headache and a throat that feels as dry as a desert. You find yourself to be in Freddy’s room, resting on his couch. A blanket with the Glamrock Gang is on top of you and in your arms appear to be a Freddy plush. Removing the blanket reveals that you’re still wearing your work clothes but you now have a fazwatch on your wrist. It must have been put on you while knocked out, for the second time.
You toss the plush onto the floor and begin to take off the watch. It’s wrapped so tight around your wrist it’s practically cutting off the circulation.
After a few minutes of trying to pry it off you’re successful. After putting it down on the table in front of you, you see a shadow pass by the small gap in the curtains. You duck behind the couch, squeezing in between it and the wall. It moves forward but it’s too late as you hear the door open, you hope that the adjustment isn’t too noticeable. If you can just stay quiet then you’ll be fine.
“Superstar, are you awake yet?” Freddy says in a hushed voice. However when he looks at the empty couch and the fazwatch left on the table he’s shocked. “Y/n! Are you there?! Oh no how could I let this happen. I knew I should’ve brought them with me.” You hear his fans go on full overdrive as he panics over your disappearence. “Are you in here?” He opens the door to his charging chamber and he looks around frantically. His voice sounds as if he’s going to cry. You put a hand ver your mouth abs hold your breath. Each second feels like a minute and each minute feels like an hour. You can hear every step being taken by Freddy and feel the thumping of him running around in his charging room.
“They have to be somewhere in the pizzaplex, I’m sure I can find them. Maybe a security bot will alert me of their presence! I’ll just have to get to them before anyone else does.”
You hear the door to his room open. You don’t dare to move or make a sound until a few minutes have passed, confirming your safety. You take a deep breathe and emerge from behind the couch. The watch that was once on your wrist seems to have disappeared. You wonder what people think may have happened to you. You were gone for at least two days. Were you attacked by an animatronic? Which one was blamed? Or was it just another freak accident that happened in this cursed establishment?
Your thought was interrupted by a loud crash made outside of Freddy’s room. You peered out the window and you spotted another animatronic entering a room. The door closed before you could see them but if your guess was correct it was Freddy thinking you were hiding in one of the other animatronics rooms. While Freddy is distracted you can use this as your chance to escape.
As quiet as you can you sneak out of Freddy’s room and run across Rockstar Road in an attempt to make it to the door that is hopefully unlocked.
You pass Roxy’s room and you see Freddy enter her back room. Perfect timing for your escape however the door opens and out pops Chica. You duck behind a display case, hoping she doesn’t see you. She might call Freddy and that’s the last thing you need right now. Trusting her may not be an option.
When she finally reaches her room you get up and make a dash for the door.
“Superstar?! I found you! Stop running, please! It’s not safe out here.” Freddy shouts towards you, his voice sounds as if it’s going to break and tears of joy will come flooding out of his bright LED eyes. Of course your luck fails you and he found you before your escape plan could even start. Curse that stupid chicken for getting in your way and curse that stupid bear for kidnapping you.
The only thing you CAN do is keep running which is exactly what you do. You make it to the door before him. Hopefully you can lose him before he catches you.
You end up at the main entrance. The giant statue of your tormenter looming over you serves as a cruel reminder of your situation. You look at the doors and see that they are closed and locked with a massive metal barrier. How long will you have to stay in this hellhole? You were running for so long that you feel as if you might faint. You were already dehydrated and had a pounding headache but the physical exertion made it 10x worse. You hear a door open and the heavy footsteps of an animatronic. Thinking on your feet, you hide in a ticket booth, trying to regulate your heartbeat and hopefully regain some stamina.
“Superstar please! I only want to protect you!” His shouts become more desperate as he loses sight of you. His footsteps lighten so that either means he kept running or he’s stopped completely. You try to listen out but with the combination of your head pounding in your skull and your breathing still not being stabilized you can’t exactly hear him. However you do pick up the familiar hum of fans.
“Y/n?” His voice was close. Too close. “This game isn’t fun anymore Superstar. Please come out if you’re hiding in here. If you just show yourself this will be so much easier.”
Silence, it was almost deafening how quiet it was. The only noise that could be heard were Freddy’s fans going into overdrive because of how long you’ve been gone for.
“Y/n, I know you’re here. Don’t make me go looking for you. We can go eat wherever you want! You must be starving.” He starts walking around but away from your spot. You take a desperate gulp of air, you were holding it in unconsciously. You would love to take up the offer of eating literally anything right now but you have to hold out on it. If you get caught again, what exactly would he do to you…
That thought was interrupted by Freddy’s footsteps slowly getting louder. “C’mon superstar, I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help you! I bet you’re really thirsty too. I can give you any kind of Fizzy Faz you want?” His voice is so close you could practically feel his animatronic fans. His voice had a calming energy to it but you could still hear the slight bit of desperation hiding behind it.
You look around the little room your hiding in to find a weapon to use against him but sadly the only thing you could find was some stupid camera that seems to have been confiscated from some kid.
“Superstar?” His voice is right behind your head, whatever you thought, you’ll have to use what you got. Grabbing the camera, you prepared to attack.
You jumped up from behind the booth and pressed the button on the camera. A giant flash came out as Freddy cried out in pain. You climb over the counter and make your way towards the central staircase. “Superstar, don’t run! You’re not in trouble, I forgive you! Just come back here!” Freddy desperately pleaded.
You turn around to make sure Freddy was still blind but accidentally ran into a security bot, triggering the alarm. “Don’t move y/n!” Cries out Freddy. You would disrespect his request but the security bot that currently has its grasp on you is preventing it. Freddy finally comes into view as the bot finally lets go. You prepare the camera for another shot but it’s still recharging from the one you did before. You stumble up the steps tripping and scraping your knee. You ignore the pain and keep running up the stairs. Once you reach the top of the stairs you have a decision to make. Either take the elevator or keep running to either the left or to the right. The right had the daycare and you didn’t feel like dealing with THOSE animatronics and you were so exhausted that you could barely get up the steps. You’re body ran out of adrenaline and was running on empty. You run towards the elevator and just have to hope it closes before he can get in.
Once in the elevator you spam the button to close the door as Freddy’s footsteps get louder. You can see his head appear at the top of the steps and he sees you too. “Superstar!” He screams out and his pace gets faster. The doors only start to close painfully slowly. You reach for the camera as a last ditch effort fumbling with it. You drop it in your panic and when you reach down to pick it up you hear metal screeching. You look up and see Freddy holding the elevator doors open as he stares at you with his bright blue LED eyes. “I finally found you y/n.”
You pick up the camera and use it on him as a last ditch effort. The bright flash shines in his eyes and he groans out in pain but he is still holding onto the doors. “I know you’re scared but you don’t have to worry, I’m right here. I’m sure that was just an accident superstar.” He reached forward one of his hands and grabbed your wrist tightly and entered the elevator. It finally closed but instead with you and him inside of it.
The effects of the camera wore off and he grabbed you and hugged you tightly. So tight it was as if he was going to squeeze you till you popped. “Oh superstar! I’m so happy to see you again! You have no idea how worried I was. Now we can have as much fun as possible and we can do anything that you want in the pizza plex. How does that sound?” He looked at you with such child like joy as you just stared back in absolute horror. His intentions may be pure but he could do anything to you. If he could hold open those elevator doors and be blinded then what could he do to you.
“Yes that sounds like fun!” You strain that sentence out, feigning happiness. If you play along with him then maybe you’ll be fine. Escape seems to be at an all time low so you’ll just have to survive. “Maybe we could get something to eat? I’m starving.”
“Oh yes! That’s why I was gone when you woke up. I hope I didn’t scare you. Oh wait- your knee is scraped, let me look at it.”
————————————————————————
I plan on making his the final part in the “Glamrock Freddy series” I can still write for him but this specific story is concluded here. I hope you enjoyed it!
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blzzrdstryr · 3 years
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Reveries of the Past. Yandere!Childe x Fatui!gn!reader
Wordcount: 3875
CW: Dissociation, graphic depiction of violence, hallucinations, unhealthy relationship and unhealthy power dynamics.
A.N.: I used a lot of my experience with dissociations in this and if it makes you uncomfortable, I would advice not to read it. I also plan on writing continuation for this, as it’s set before the Rite of Descension. P.s. I am not a native English speaker, so could you notify me if there’s awkward wording.
[Next chapter]
There are plenty of times you find yourself reminiscing about the past and now, your mind slips back to your memories, as you look at the horribly mangled body of the treasure hoarder. The stench of blood stuffs up your nose, it’s sickly sweet metallic odor making your gut clench and nausea rise, as your limbs grow heavier and numb. You don’t feel  like you belong in your skin and bones and blood anymore - it’s cold, so cold, yet you don’t feel any of it. You are an outsider, an unwanted intruder in the house that is your body, an indifferent observer looking at the world through the thick glass.
The world around disfigures, shapes and colors changing in the constant whirlwind - they jump and dance around, small becoming large and large shrinking so much it’s barely visible, green shifts to red to blue and to yellow and to million of other colors, and sounds suddenly become muffled, losing their sharpness, but you don’t care about it: the part that is “you” fled to the daydreams of your childhood moments ago, leaving a clinically observing, yet unfeeling being behind. 
Adults would describe you as a perfect child: quiet, obedient and dutiful, you were a stark contrast to the other louder and more free spirited kids. You studied hard, cleaned the house, helped with dishes and cooking and never talked back. 
I can't upset mom and dad because they work so much. I can't play with other kids because if I do, they will make fun of me, I have to study hard and get good grades, because mom said I will have a good job and become rich and help them. 
These particular memories don't feel good to you: they're bleak and boring, yet full of silent shame - they make your throat clog and eyes water, as something burning starts to bloom deep underneath your skin. 
Childe stops beating the still alive treasure hoarder, a blood smeared on the cheek and a dangerous glint in his eyes, and turns his head to you. 
"Hey, how about lending me a helping hand?", there’s a hunger in his voice you recognize, he wants to teach a lesson to the debtors, then. You walk towards him, feeling your knees get weaker and weaker with each step for some reason. A dagger made of ice shines in your hand with cold light. 
"It's no wonder [First] received a vision! My [First] is always so good and smart, there are no children better" the exact words your mother says, as she brags to her friends, showing them the vision you were bestowed with. You left it to her, not caring what will happen to it - despite all the child's wonder you felt before receiving it, the glowing orb doesn’t look so amazing to you now. It feels foreign and ugly, a reminder of what happened seconds before you gained it. 
“You know, when I was a child”, he takes the weapon and focuses on the treasure hoarder’s leader again, “we made a special kind of promise”. It’s tip travels to the hoarder’s hand. “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life”
The sweet voice he uses and the fact that you  know the nursery rhyme too would make you sick in the stomach the other day, but not now. 
You don’t exactly remember how you joined the Fatui - it happened shortly after you gained a vision, when you were still too numb and cold to the outside world after the Event. 
Mom will hate me, dad will hate me too. I can’t let them know.
Your parents say that officials just knocked on the front door one day and offered you an entry into the Fatui and a monthly salary, big enough to stop your parents from overworking themselves. You were terrified back then, Fatuis despite being known as a diplomatic organization are still a mystery to the ordinary Shezhnayan and a direct servants to Her will. The thought of disappointing Tsaritsa or letting down Snezhnaya was enough to paralyze you, but seeing the smiles on your parents faces was enough to make you swear to yourself, that you will work there no matter how scary it seems.
“You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice.” The blade stops between phalanges of the little finger: “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend", he presses it, strong enough to detach the limb from the rest of the body in one swift slash. Treasure hoarder starts to cry and scream from the sudden pain, yet quickly chokes on it as Childe hits him in the solar plexus. The crack of bones feels deafening among the sea of muffled sounds.
Training was rigorous to say the least, you came back to your dorm room absolutely exhausted and after you fell on the bed you were practically dead to the world. Turns out, having a vision wasn’t enough to make you a fighter - you needed to know how to climb, swim, run with a weight to lift and wield a weapon. There were other children and teens with you, they eyed your vision with a mix of adoration and envy, you pretended not to catch it in turn.
“The frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again”, harbinger forces the victim's jaw apart by squeezing it with one hand, the other rapidly forcing a dagger inside the mouth. Treasure hoarder gasps and mumbles, fat tears forming in his eyes. A part of you expects a sound of parting flesh, but none comes: Tartaglia stands up and removes the blade, leaving a shivering and terrified man laying on the ground.
“Well,” Childe shrugs, as if he didn’t just dismember a person, voice back to his cheery tone : “You didn’t actually make a pinkie promise, so consider it a small mercy”. The treasure hoarder cowers even more, snuggling the injured hand close to the bruised chest. “But if you fail to repay your debt I will oversee that the frost”, he points in your direction, a treasure hoarder’s eyes going wide as he notices your vision, “will actually freeze your lying tongue off”, his voice descends again, back to it’s dangerous half-whisper.
You meet Ajax during the winter, he’s close to you in age and just arrived into Fatui grounds. He boasts and shows off to all of you, and you desperately want to retort something acidic to shut him up and rip off that arrogant bravado, yet say nothing, picturing how the tomorrow training session will have him laying flat on his back, too hurt and too tired to move even a single finger. 
He defeats the trainer in less than a minute.
Now, that the treasure hoarder fled, still snuggling disfigured limb, Childe turns attention back to you. “You seem a little bit disinterested here”, his hand on your cheek is so foreign, it’s burning and freezing at the same time, the shock from the unwanted touch almost strong enough to pull you back into reality. He notices your unintentional flinching and unfocused eyes “Ah, you hurt my feelings, [First]! And I thought we already became friends”. 
You say nothing, cold and unmoving, blind and deaf to the outside world, his words register a second too late, and there’s no cliche phrase for you to reply with. He looks a bit baffled and deflated for a second, but shrugs it off, just like he did during teen years, when you deliberately ignored all his attempts at catching your attention.
“Huh, even if you are so cold to me, I still forgive you”, he takes your hand, his touch still too overwhelming for you to process and pulls you back to Liyue harbor, your legs barely bending as you walk after him, like an obedient dog trailing it’s master.
“You know [First], I can beat you up so badly, that you will barely walk”, you put feather aside, stopping writing the letter to your parents as you glare at Ajax with barely masked indignation. He grins, satisfied to finally catch your attention after the whole day of pestering you. “I am aware of that” you reply in an absolutely flat tone, holding yourself from pouncing on him and trying to break the teeth out of that smug smile. He beams even wider, as if sensing your not-so-good intentions, revealing even more pearly whites as if taunting you.
“But I won’t, count yourself lucky”. And he leaves, this short interaction filling you with so much rage that you shake, handwritten letters noticeably becoming sharper and faster, your thoughts clouding around the idea of acquating his face with your boots. 
 Nonetheless, you indeed count yourself fortunate enough, when you see Ajax defeating grown men with bare hands. When you two, the only vision holders among your peers have to spar, he always goes easy on you, prefering to immobilize you rather than beating, making your defeat less painful yet even more humiliating. 
Almost at the end of your trail he suddenly stops and says something, but you don't catch it, words turning into separate vowels and then fusing together into one unintelligible gibberish mess. He leans in, close enough for his breath to burn your neck, and he continues to get closer, until his empty eyes look into yours glazed ones. He seems disappointed for a second and backs down, his breathing no longer fanning your skin. 
Distantly you think that you somehow angered him and he will slap you for it, and do nothing to dodge the hit - you barely feel pain in this condition anyway, but he doesn’t. The road to the Northland Bank is completed in absolute silence, Childe no longer trying to grab your attention, only when you enter Liyue Harbor does he whisper, that you two must look like a pair with all that hand holding. Judging by the volume and tone of his voice he says it more to himself than to you.
***
You come back to yourself in the safety of your room on the third room of the Northland bank. It feels like a rush of sensation, as everything becomes sharper and clearer again, like you just swam to the surface of water from the very depths of it. An invisible bubble around your head pops in one moment, and the world becomes real again, mind and body connecting for once more.
Eyes and ears focused you take in surroundings: the room is neat and lifelessly empty - just a bed and a working desk with a stack of written but unsent letters, along with a small bookcase near, no figurines, pictures or even plants to decorate living place, as you see no reason to adorn the area you use for sleeping only. Indiscernible wallpapers and a small window close to the middle of the bed finish the picture of austerity.
 Once, your memory catches up to you, you can't help groan from the shame and irritation, hiding your face in both hands. Afterwards  always feels both like a disgraceful escape and a warm blanket during the stormy night, a duality that you accepted long ago after joining the Fatui and today is no exception. You curse Harbinger when you remember why exactly you had an episode, and get up from the bed you threw yourself on minutes ago. You come to the desk, taking a clean form of a relocation request from the drawer and writing materials. 
Filling in the blank feels like commiting a felony to you for some reason - you stop several times when you hear footsteps in the corridor, focusing on the door,ready to hide the half written form and say some lie as an excuse. You don't list the Childe-related reasons, knowing that there's nothing that could make any of the Harbingers face the consequence for their actions, and instead you write completely normal and fake causes: health concerns, family matters and so on. Part of you doubts that this will work and you will have the fortune to get away from a certain harbinger as far as possible. Trying and failing is better than never attempting, you think, quickly writing the paper.
Once you finish it, you almost rush to Ekaterina, praying that you won't run into a certain ginger on the way. Sometime ago you caught Tartaglia checking your letters, for a secrecy he said back then, we can’t let anyone know about the coming operation. Childe then instilled that every sent and received letter should be checked, lest Qixing and other Liyuens learned what Fatui had in plan. It sounded logical and sensible, but the paranoid thought that he enforced this policy just to have a glimpse at your feelings never stopped eating at you. From that day on you sent your family the most basic and vague letters, just stating that you’re in good health and mind, still missing them and Snezhnaya, leaving the ones with more private sentiments in your room. 
Her eyes are completely obscured by the mask, but even with that you can’t miss the pointed glare she sends your way - Tartaglia never shied away from showing off, be it his strength, money or his twisted obsession that he calls love. With the amount of time and finances he spends on you and the way he acts like a kicked lovesick puppy in your vicinity, you are pretty sure that at least half of the bank workers see you as a cunning and cruel seducer, so keen and devious in the art of temptation that you managed to lure in Eleventh Harbinger.
As if archons decided to laugh at you, Childe descends from the second floor too, catching the sight of you near the receptionist. He looks unusually somber for a moment, but then he sees you, a smile appearing on his face as he takes the form from Ekaterina's hands. You can just feel how Ekaterina rolls her eyes under the mask, as if muttering complaints about the lovers’ spat and insubordination, having been working with her for some time, enough to have a clue of the inner workings of her mind.
You have to give him that he plays the confusion and regret very persuasively. He asks how he can fix this, says what a valuable team member you are to him and how much you are needed in the Northland bank. You agree to his suggestion - if years of training with Ajax and then work with Childe taught you anything, it is that Ajax is the chaos incarnate and Tartaglia is Ajax’s less tolerable and more unpredictable version, so it’s better not to anger him.
***
In the end he invites you to dine with him at Wanmin restaurant, a place Childe heard from some “xiansheng” as he called them. A bustling Liyue street is open before you two, tall midday sun painting the whole street into bright orange, so unlike the pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya. He orders two Black Back Perch Stews on the chef's recommendations, and hands a bouquet of local flowers in a parody of a normal boyfriend. Any random observer would really see it as a date.
You take the flowers, pretending to pay more attention to  them than to a man sitting near you. Tartaglia is an unpredictability wrapped in human skin, there’s no privilege as being lax and carefree near him, as even Tsaritsa has no idea what he will do next. 
To your mutual confusion Xiangling presents the meal with two pairs of chopsticks. Utensils feel foreign in your palm, you having no idea how to handle them and Childe, by the looks of it too. Tartaglia specifically asks the chef for spoons, while you observe the other clients, noting how they use theirs. Holding one stick like a pen and then placing the bottom one in a fixed position under the thumb you manage to grasp the fish from the soup, albeit clumsily. You consider it a small win. 
The image of a mighty Harbinger struggling in a failing battle with chopsticks would look funny to you, if it wasn’t for the whole "date" you were having. After putting them aside, and seemingly admitting defeat, Childe starts from afar: "You know [First], you changed a lot since I first met you" .
You raise an eyebrow at the starter, it's vague and innocent enough, but experience tells you that he will or at least try to stir the conversation into your relationship with him again. Straightening a bit and finally turning your eyes to him, you pause for a second, picking the least offensive reply you can muster - there’s a swarm of insults buzzing at the tip of your tongue prepared just for him, growing and sprouting since your pubescent years.
“Yes, I got taller”, he laughs it off, like you said some funny joke, his giggles not stopping for some time. "No, I mean as a person. Remember how you used to glare at me for joking? And now you act so unfazed ”
Joking. Is this what he calls it? Shivers creep up your spine when your memory oh so conveniently conjures the images of the aftermath of his jokes.
“Your jokes weren’t funny to anyone but you”. Breathe, you think, there’s no need to anger him. There are pictures of broken bones and bruised bodies and a cacophony of somebody else’s pained screams flashing and rattling in your head, Adults never did anything. Why would they? They had a golden boy Ajax, why would they help the others when they had him? Why would they help you? Bitterness and anger you thought you swallowed long ago rise up to the surface again, and you decide to bite down on the stew - Tartaglia always found a way to turn your words against you and hurt you, no need to give him more weapons now.
“I changed a lot too. I know I was insufferable as a teen”, he must have taken your silence as a free pass to continue whatever nonsense he’s sprouting, “I am sorry”.
The last three words catch you off guard, a piece of fish almost stuck in the throat from the jolt. Ajax takes you by surprise once again, for him to finally acknowledge and apologize for all the pain he caused and years he tormented you?
You blink and look at him intently, his facial expression changing into an unusually somber one. It seems authentic enough.
“Let’s start from the scratch?
You contemplate unsure what to say.
Was he lying?
Looking back, you in a sense are luckier than most of Childe's victims, witnessing his youth, familiarizing and distinguishing the tells of him lying and scheming, observing the way he bloomed into the manipulator he is today firsthand. You see a familiarity in his face and voice, something that helps you from falling to his charms. There's also the added fact that you were and still are an involuntary witness to the way how carnal and bloodthirsty usually friendly Ajax can become. 
When did you catch his attention?
You remember his smile when he first approached you, less teeth and more sincerity that is thereafter,a hand outstretched to you. It happens on the next day after his arrival, almost as cold and unpleasant as the previous one. You brush the limb away like a noisy fly, secretly angry at his arrogant attitude and how effortlessly he endured training. His smiling doesn’t stop, yet you feel a sudden change in the air around you.
Would your fate be different if you took his hand?
You can't forget how your mind disconnected from your body for the second time. It was Ajax again vying for your attention akin to a spoiled child, and like one he threw a tantrum when you refused to give him any. The poor recruit you were talking with was hospitalized the same day, as you helplessly watched the carnage before you. You didn't fight, you didn’t flee, you just froze, like a scared animal, paralyzed by fear, yet somehow too detached from feelings. That day was bizarre: once you felt reality, it was solid and undeniable and then you didn't. The realness of the current diffused, slipped through the fingers like sand, leaving nothing but unreliable and delusive reveries behind.
Will he let you go? 
“People do change and I see that you changed too. I don’t think of you as a teen you were” you carefully pick the words, Tartaglia visibly blooms, thinking that his apology worked, yet your next words snuff out his triumph: “but my memories stay the same. I don’t think we can start from scratch”
You bite the tongue, the second part still coming out too harsh for your liking. The moment of sincerity is interrupted, you see him, changing the masks, unsure what to do. It seems for the first time it was you who caught him off guard. You guess which one of the two standard facades he will decide to show to you, having spent years by his side to observe him masterfully wielding both, the friendly one with a vacant smile that never reaches his dead, dead eyes or the calculating one, distant and devoid of humanity?
In the end he uses none, a hurt still evident, dripping in his tone, face and moves - is it another mask you never got to see or is it real? - “So that is your answer”, he leans in closer, dull cerulean eyes looking right into yours.
You hold his stare, nodding, instead of saying anything and he hums, sitting back and wearing the cold mask, reserved for his enemies: “Just wanted to remind you that I am the Harbinger and you are just a position higher than an ordinary agent”. Despite seeing it so many times, it’s the first time he directs it at you and you have to suppress the shiver. The unsaid threat hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you.
You two are no longer solemn [First] and annoying Ajax, who trails your steps behind like a puppy, no, you are a special agent [Last] and Eleventh Fatui Harbinger Tartaglia, to whom you are personally assigned by Tsaritsa herself. Even possessing vision and delusion yourself you can’t match Childe’s power, and your loss would be easy to overlook if your harbinger wished for it. Honestly speaking, there are a lot of things he could do to you without anyone questioning it, the Harbingers being the second most powerful figures in the organization, right after Tsaritsa herself. You heard the stories of Krupp and other assistants who got missing under Il Dottore, you heard of horrible accidents happening to the people Scaramouche dislikes, you heard about the injuries Signora inflicts on the unfortunate recruits when she is in foul mood, yet you never thought that Tartaglia will abuse his power in the same way.
“Don’t worry” he seems to have taken mercy on you, “I won’t use my position like that, it’s cheating and I like to play the fair game”, despite the seemingly reassuring words , you don’t let yourself relax, knowing him for years.
“Don’t think I will back down though, I am not the type to give up”
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fandom-imagines · 3 years
Text
Sweet little darling~
Fandom: House of Wax (2005)
Pairing: Bo Sinclair X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Canon typical violence, domestic abuse (abusive relationship; not Bo) Kind of out-of-character Bo, depends on how you headcanon him for liking someone! Also not proofread yet.
Words: 2.55k 
Summary: Kindness can get you killed, but it can also get you out of a sticky situation.
Part Two!
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To anybody that saw their relationship, it was evident that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Perhaps it once had been, but it no longer was, and for good reason.
“You fucking bitch!” The scream echoed throughout the building, one body looming over a small, cowering young woman.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, doing her best to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.  “Please don’t hurt m-“ her pleas were cut short as a tight hand grasped her arm and tugged her onto her feet, a harsh slap hitting her cheek shortly afterwards.
“Please don’t hurt me,” he cruelly laughed, mimicking her frightened and desperate tone. “How pathetic.”
“I’m sorry,”
With one final laugh, her boyfriend tossed her to the ground.
*
Laughter filled the truck the group of friends were currently seated in, music blaring through the speakers of a radio one of them had brought but their drunk selves were unable to remember who.
Four of the friends engaged in conversation about anything their clouded minds could think of, whilst the final friend lay against the side of the car, desperately avoiding the demanding gaze her boyfriend was giving her and had been giving her the entire night.
It was clear what he wanted.
Eyes fixated on the green of the grass beneath her, Y/N noticed an approaching truck. Choosing not to say anything, she silently waited for somebody else to notice the vehicle.
“Guys,” Lucy, a close friend of Y/N’s boyfriends, called. “Who is that?”
By now the headlights of the truck were focused on the gang who were circled around the campfire, narrowly avoiding Y/N’s figure.
“James, do something?” Y/N winced as she watched another of the girls grasp onto her boyfriends muscular arm, her blonde hair rubbing against his bare chest.
“Can we help you?” He yelled over the sound of the roaring engine, their music having been paused the second they had notice the driver. “Look dude, this isn’t funny. Just fuck off!”
James’s final sentence was one that made his girlfriend cringe, body remembering the way he had hurt her the night before using that exact same tone; it almost made her cry.
Deciding to stop him before this escalated any further, Y/N made her way towards James before placing a hand on his chest to signal him to back down. This seemed to only anger him further, something that was clear by the way his hands balled into fists. Nobody noticed, except one other person.
“Leave it,” she whispered into his ear, hand dropping from his body to hopefully ease his anger.
James’s hand reach out to her, grabbing his own with a bruising force and tugging her into him as he leaned down to her ear, ignoring the whistles from his friends who assumed he was saying something sexual.
“Just you wait till I get you alone,” James snarled in her ear, unaware of the way an unknown man glared at him before driving away.
*
“Are you fucking kidding me?” James spat, smashing his hand against the cars hood. “It’s busted, the fan belt is fucked.”
His anger seemed to put everybody on edge as they all fell into an uncomfortable silence, something that was uncommon for them.
“You needed a new one anyway,” Y/N mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Don’t you fucking start,” while his words were directed towards his girlfriend, the others assumed it was aimed at the car in sarcasm; ignorance is bliss after all.
“I can help y’all.” A seemingly kind voice yelled from behind them, having heard the entire conversation. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear ya. There’s a town not to far from here. A guy, Bo, runs a gas stop, I’m sure he’d have some.”
Before James could rudely decline this man, Y/N decided to respond. “Do you know how to get there?”
“I’ll drive ya! Truck can only fit two of you though,”
“That’d be great!” She gave the unnamed man a gentle smile, one which he gladly returned. “When are you ready?”
“Now is good,”
She simply nodded, rushing towards the car without giving James a chance to say anything, only leaving him time to follow her, but not before a “fuck sake,” left his lips.
*
“Thank you so much, Lester!” She grinned once again as she hopped from his truck.
“It was no bother, pleasure to meet you Y/N,” he smiled back at her, ruffling her hair slightly before realising the angered look on James’s face. “And you of course,” he nodded awkwardly whilst his hand dropped back to his side. “You two take care now,” and with those words, he drove away.
“Fucking slutting yourself out to weird men, typical,” James spat as he tugged Y/N’s hand so that she was following him into the town, ignoring how she almost tripped in the process.
“I’m sorry, I was just being nice. He was helping us!” She all but yelled, silently praying for him to loosen his grip so that she doesn’t have to use all of her concealer hiding, yet another, mark from him.
“Sure he was. He didn’t just want to get into your pants or anything, huh?”
Ignoring his hurtful words, Y/N began to look around the town.
It was quiet, too quiet. But when she began to think, it was Sunday and there was a Church up ahead at the end of the road which would make more sense, especially considering how early in the morning it was.
“There’s the garage,” James said, dropping her hand to instead point at the small garage not far from them. “Let’s go,”
Y/N followed him, quickly striding to keep up with his large legs.
“There’s nobody here,” she sighed, watching as James just barged his way into the unoccupied garage. “You can’t just go in there! That’s rude.”
“Do I give a fuck? Wait out there for all I care,”
So she chose to do just that.
*
“Oh, hi!” A tall man in a suit gave Y/N a bright grin, accidentally startling her slightly. “You need something?”
“O-oh, hi! Uhm, my boyfriend is in there, I’m sorry I told him not too, he needs a fan belt? I have no idea what one of them is but I-“
The man chuckled, smiling once again as he put his arm around her waist to guide her inside. “Don’t worry, darling. I got ya,” his words were somewhat calming, as though he was offering to protect her from James, despite not knowing what was going on, or perhaps he did.
“You finally grew a p-“James’s words fell short as he turned to see a man, who was significantly taller than him, stood beside his girlfriend. “Hello?”
“Hi, names Bo,” Bo’s tone was a lot blunter than the charming one he had been using previously. “You need something?” He repeated his previous words, instead this time to James and less kind. “You are in my garage after all.”
Despite knowing that Bo could easily subdue him, James chose to get angry anyway. “You got a problem with me? Don’t leave it unlocked if you don’t want people coming in,”
“James leave it,” Y/N gently pushed herself between Bo and James as James began to try get into his face. “Just ask him for what you need and let’s go.”
“Fine, we need a fan belt. Fifteen inch.”
“I might be able to do that, but you’ve already had a look so let me know what I’ve got,” Bo smirked at the angered expression on the mans face at his words.
So maybe he did have a problem with James, a problem neither of the couple knew of.
“Not a fifteen,”
“Then they’re back at the house,”
“The house? Why would they be there?”
“Deliveries are delivered there, easier for everyone really.”
Y/N watched as the two men interacted, Bo incredibly calm whilst James was boiling with anger. Part of her was scared of how he would react, his threat about ‘waiting till they’re alone’ floating around in her mind, yet some strange part of her felt safe knowing that Bo was there. Perhaps it was the fact that he could fight him with ease, or maybe that James would, most likely, never harm her in front of another person.
“Let’s just go,” She pleaded, desperation swimming in her Y/E/C orbs.
“No, I’ll stay, you go.” James seemed pleased with this idea, smirking at the way his girlfriends body tensed; he enjoyed the fear he caused her.
“That’s fine with me,” Bo chimed in, offering Y/N a smile. “That fine with you?”
“Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”
“Let me just lock up,” Bo said, leading the visitors out into the street, much to James’s dismay, before locking up. “Let’s go then.” He gave James one last sarcastic smile before leading Y/N away from him.
*
“Do you live with anyone here?”
Y/N and Bo had been talking for a while now, having chosen to take a slow walk instead. He was nice, to her anyway. She felt as though he understood her, despite not knowing a thing about her.
“Nah, I live with my brother,” Came his response, winking at the girl as he ran a hand through his dark hair, enjoying the way she blushed under his gaze.
She knew it was wrong, finding him both attractive and sweet. But he was both of those, and James was neither, not to her at least. Maybe it was because he was the first person to be this kind to her in a long time, or maybe it was the feeling of safety she felt around him, but she was enjoying his company more than anyone else’s.
“Oh, that must be fun!”
Bo chuckled at her enthusiasm, “I suppose so,”
The pair walked up to Bo’s home, guilt filling the girl’s chest each time she let Bo’s hand brush against her own. She simply enjoyed the sparks flying throughout her body, forgetting about the pain she would receive later as a punishment.
“We’re here,” Bo’s words pulled Y/N from her thoughts, almost tripping over a rock as she came back to reality. “Easy there,” Bo shook his head whilst smiling as he caught her, sneakily pulling her body into his own without her realising it was not an accident.
“Thank you,” she blushed, unknowingly allowing herself to melt into his touch, feeling the need to savour every kind and gentle touch she was getting from a stranger.
“No problem, darling,” he smirked, once again enjoying the way she blushed at the nickname he had given her.
Hand still around her waist, Bo guided her into his home.
“Take a seat, I need to get out of this horrible suit.” His words caused a giggle to leave Y/N’s lips, her head nodding as she took a seat on the faded leather couch, watching Bo leave the room to go change.
*
“Sorry to keep ya waiting, Darl.” Bo’s voice startled Y/N, her body jolting in a way that made Bo feel slightly guilty, something that he rarely felt. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. It was my fault,” she offered him a weak smile, twiddling with the hem of her short-sleeved t-shirt when he seated himself beside her.
“That looks painful,” his hands cautiously reached out to gently take her hand, fingers lightly running across a hand-shaped bruise that had began to form. “You shouldn’t let him treat you like that,” Bo’s spare hand reached up to her face, hand cupping one cheek which made her flinch, Bo frowning at the action.
“S-sorry,”  
Bo had no idea why she was apolgoising to him. It had been him that touched her, but it all made sense in his head.
“Does he hit you?”
Her lack of response was enough for him to understand to full situation.
“I’m sorry,”
“Don’t be, darling.” He sighed, hand moving from her cheek to her neck to pull her head towards his lips, planting a soft kiss on it, something that made her almost cry along with his sweet words.
“Thank you,” her own arms wrapped around his torso, grateful to be given affection without it feeling forced.
*
“You took your time,” James spat as Y/N walked towards him, Bo having quickly headed to the gas station for something that she couldn’t remember the name of. “Were you shagging him or something?”
“N-no,” the nervousness in her voice was something that caused Y/N to cringe, knowing that he wouldn’t believe her.
“Oh, you were.” James’s hands balled into fists as he stalked towards her, ready to attack.
“No, I had to get changed,” Bo’s deep voice startled both of them, James’s fists unclenching immediately.
“Sorry, man. Can’t be too careful with girls like these, can you?” He laughed, trying to play off his previous words as a joke.
“Can’t be too careful with men like yourself either, can you?” Bo’s words seemed innocent, despite having a deeper meaning.
“What?” James snapped. “You told him about us?” He yelled as he turned to face Y/N whose breathing was becoming laboured in fear. “You little bitch!”
As James began to march towards his girlfriend, a tight hand grabbed his fist, spinning him to face the holder only to not be able to see because of a hard punch hitting him in the jaw. The only thing he could hear was a gasp from Y/N and the ringing in his ears as he dropped to the ground.
“Not so tough now, are you?” Bo sniggered. “You can hit a woman but the second a man touches you, you’re out cold. Pathetic,”
Y/N stood frozen to the spot, unsure of how to react.
She hadn’t expected Bo to attack him. In fact, she hadn’t expected him to do anything at all to him or about her situation. Those who knew didn’t care, so why would a stranger?
“You fucking dick!” James screamed, climbing back onto his feet to throw a punch at Bo, one that he barely reacted to.
“Leave him alone!” Y/N yelled, darting between James and Bo, shoving James away from him to the best of her ability.
“You fucking whore. I should’ve known this is what would’ve happened. Actually, I guess I already did.” His words were fast, but his fist moved towards her faster.
Bo was quicker however, grabbing the man’s fist and twisting it behind his back before kicking his legs from beneath him, effectively knocking him to the ground again.
“Vincent!” Bo yelled. “Got one for ya,” both Y/N and James were confused at his words, fear filling them both as a masked man came running out into the street, knife in hand.
Bo took Y/N’s hand, pushing her behind his hand so that she couldn’t see the horror that Vincent was committing to her boyfriend in full glory.
“Y-you killed him…” Her words were quiet, watching from one eye as the man, who she assumed to be Vincent, tugged away the lifeless body. “Are you going to kill me too?”
“You’re safe here, Y/N.” Bo’s words were quiet, praying nobody else heard his true self speaking. “I’ll take care of you. Nobody will ever hurt you again, my sweet little darling.”  
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Life Without Colour (PART FIVE)
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Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.
Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader
Note: ignore that i don’t even question bucky being able to get through security at the airport, i couldn’t think of how he would be able to get through the airport security bc of his metal arm so i’ve skipped that detail completely. i hope it doesn’t detract from the story! 
this is nearly 6000 words!
Taglist:  @domainoflostsouls​  forgetthisbull  handon-h-art  yourspecialcrush  giulsgotmusic  mrsbarnes-rogers  luosymekawa  linzeyzarcone  forgetthisbull   calamityreads  talgra   marina-darling  btsforlif  lamoursansfin  classic1985  lovesicksofi  fandomsfallnomore  thebivirgin  classygladiatorcupcake
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. You had long since stopped trying to figure out what state you were in and where you were headed. Bucky had been driving non-stop aside from two bathroom breaks at a small gas station in the middle of nowhere. You had stopped crying a long time ago, too drained and too tired to continue. You felt horrendous. You hated this, you absolutely hated this but you had no choice in the matter. The car had been silent for the whole way aside from the quiet chatter on the radio. Bucky hadn’t wanted to speak in fear of upsetting you further. He had been driving you out of state to go to an airport that would be a little harder to find. It had been Fury’s idea, to go to an airport that Hydra wouldn’t look for straight away. It gave you a little more time to get away without being watched.
You took a break from watching the blur of trees and roads to glance at the clock on the dashboard; 13:42. You hadn’t eaten yet, barely had anything to drink either and you knew that you weren’t far away from a dehydration migraine. As if on cue, your stomach rumbled loudly. Bucky, without speaking, reached behind his car seat and produced a rucksack and dumped it on your lap with a, “Here. There’s water and some snacks in there. We’ll get a proper meal when we’re at the airport.”
You dug through the bag, producing two bottles of water. You opened one and offered it to Bucky, he accepted with a nod, draining half before handing it back to you. You offered him a muffin but he shook his head. You dropped the bag to between your feet and began to have your water and muffin. It helped curb the hunger, at least for a while, and you felt a lot better once you had something in your stomach. After a while, you sank back into your seat with a yawn.
Bucky glanced over at you, “We’ve still got a few hours to drive, you can sleep if you want.” You looked at him and he gave you a small smile, “It’s okay. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”
You thanked him quietly before closing your eyes. It didn’t take long before you fell asleep and your soft snores filled the car. Bucky looked at you for a couple of seconds, smiling to himself. Man, it’s gonna be a long few weeks.
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It only felt like you’d closed your eyes for a few minutes when Bucky was saying your name, gently shaking your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to meet his blue eyes and it almost gave you a fright seeing them. Sometimes it still surprised you to see colour and especially when Bucky was around... colour seemed to be brighter and those deeper blue eyes seemed so bright in person.
“We’re here,” he said, pulling back quickly, not wanting to upset you by being too close. Bucky was very careful of boundaries, he always had been but especially after the Winter Soldier incidents. He knew what it felt like to not want to be touched or have your personal space invaded so he was always careful to not overstep.
“You’ve got the fake passports and stuff, don’t you?” You asked him, yawning and stretching in your seat.
He nodded and told you that they’re in his bag. In order to help the process of becoming anonymous, Fury had fake IDs and fake passports made for the two of you. They’d even gone so far as to create two new backstories for the pair of you just in case anyone ever questioned the pair of you. You and Bucky got out of the car, your legs ached from having sat in the car for hours upon hours. It was dark outside now, you didn’t know the time. Bucky grabbed the bags out of the car and handed you the two passports to hold. As you walked into the airport, you flicked to it. Miss Jane Smith and Mr John Smith. Two very common and obvious fake names but you hoped that it wouldn’t be picked up.
The check in process was much easier than you anticipated, the passports passed the ID checks and soon, the two of you were through security and heading for the food outlet. Bucky had told you to keep your head down for most of the time and to avoid direct eye contact with cameras. The airport was relatively quiet which was good in the sense you didn’t have to worry about people around you noticing Bucky. Bucky led you to a small café which was quiet and the two of you sat at the back. Everything was kind of passing in a blur and it only seemed like a few seconds until Bucky was back with your food.
You began to eat in silence and it was then you realised where you were going, “Estonia?” You asked quietly, making sure to not be overhead.
Bucky nodded as he took a bite of his burger, “Managed to find a secluded house, already furnished. The owner agreed to let us stay for a discounted price as well.”
“I’ve never been,” you shrugged, taking a bite of your food, “Where are we right now?”
“Pittsburg,” he said, glancing around the café to make sure no one was taking notice of the pair of you, “Steve thought it would be a good idea to leave from an airport a few hours away from New York. Hydra and Rumlow would check New York airports first once they realise you’re out of town.”
You smiled sadly as you looked down to your food. Leave it to Steve to think of everything. Bucky told you that the flight would be leaving in an hour and it would be a long ass flight but it was okay because you were exhausted and you could absolutely sleep for a good portion of the flight anyway.  
You sighed, “When can I take this stupid disguise off? I’m so uncomfortable!”
Bucky studied you carefully, “When we’re in the safe house.”
“Do I look stupid? I feel stupid.”
“You look... different. Not bad just different,” he paused before speaking again, “I prefer you as you are though, without the wig, contacts and flashy clothes. I think you look much better when you’re being yourself.”
You didn’t know how to respond to that with anything other than a nod. It felt foreign and wrong to receive a compliment from him, even though it was a genuine, friendly compliment, it felt wrong. The two of you didn’t say much after that.
After eating, you and Bucky went to get some plane snacks. You grabbed some water and some treats, you also wandered to the book section and picked up a book. As you were walking to the books, you saw a little boy and girl pass wearing matching Captain America t-shirts. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched them pass. It seemed to hit you in that moment that this was real and this was truly happening.
“(y/n)?” Bucky asked appearing behind you.
You turned to him, “Sorry... I just can’t believe this is happening.” 
Bucky nodded before gesturing to the check out, “Let’s get this all checked out and then hopefully we’ll be able to go to our departure gate.” He didn’t really know how to help you without overstepping or potentially upsetting you. He didn’t want you to get upset in public so he thought that he could keep you distracted and that would help ease your worries. It helped, having him there to guide you and distract you from possible sad thoughts helped a lot actually.
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You found your airplane seats quick, the two of you were bang smack in the middle and you were both in a two seater section. Bucky let you go in first, saying that he preferred not to look out of the window when taking a flight. You sunk into it, keeping your head down and wrapping your arms around yourself to get warmer. As Bucky sat beside you, tapping his foot and his hand on the armrest impatiently, you looked at him curiously, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Bucky said, “Just... not a big fan of flying.”
You pulled out the magazines which were in the pocket of the chair in front of you and handed him them, “I find that reading the safety procedures always helps. Also reading the magazine where you can just check out the meal deals and the perfume deals help a bit.”
Bucky took them off of you and began to flick through them. In the meantime, you closed your eyes. As the plane began to move, Bucky tensed beside you and you opened your eyes to look at him, his hands were clenched around the arms of the chair, jaw clenched too.
“Hey, show me that,” you said, sitting up straighter and pointing to the magazine. He looked at you and then handed it to you. Bucky had been helping you out by distracting you from being sad, the least you could do is distract him from being anxious. You leaned over, probably a little closer than you would’ve felt comfortable with in normal circumstances. Bucky stiffened as he smelled your perfume when you came closer. You took no notice of the closeness.
“Look at that!” You said, pointing to the menu that they were offering that night on the flight, “What would you have?” Bucky shrugged and you rolled your eyes, “C’mon. I’d have the chicken curry and the cheese and ham panini and then I would absolutely have the tiramisu afterwards. What about you?” You held it closer to him for him to study.
“Uh... I mean, I suppose the lasagne sounds nice. The breaded mushrooms too, I like those. Never had tiramisu but it sounds nice enough so I’d give that a go too.”
“No way,” you said shaking your head, “I would order the tiramisu and you would order the chocolate and raspberry mousse and we’d share them both.”
Bucky snorted slightly, “Sure thing, whatever you want.”
You flicked through more of the pages, “Ooooh,” you said noticing the deals on the perfumes, “I love airplane and airport deals. I only ever buy my perfume from duty free, honestly. No point in buying it full price anywhere else.”
“I still find it crazy that there’s a shop on an airplane.”
You nodded, “I mean, it’s pretty weird but I’m not complaining about the deals. Some of the stuff you can buy is so bizarre though. I was on this flight once, going on holiday with my family when I was younger, and they were selling t-shirts with a picture of the airplane we were in on them saying ‘I rode in this plane and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’.”
“That sounds like it’s a total dad shirt,” Bucky laughed slightly. He looked a lot younger when he smiled. He was always so stony and serious but when he smiled or laughed, it knocked years off him. He was already a handsome man but when he smiled, he was just... wow.
You burst out laughing as he said it, “My dad did buy it and he wore it so proudly!”
Bucky laughed with you, finding his nerves easing up as he spoke to you. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to you about anything other than the fact you were soulmates so it felt rather nice to talk to you on another level. It was still prettty strange but it was nice. Steve always told him that you were easy to get along with so he wasn’t too surprised. As you continued to chat, you gasped audibly when you came to the ‘collectibles and merchandise’ page, “There it is!” 
“No way!” Bucky grinned as he looked down at the picture of the t-shirt exactly like the one you described, “Oh, god, it’s hideous.” The two of you lapsed into laughter again, talking and looking at it before Bucky happened to glance out of the window, “We’re in the air?”
You looked out, “Yeah, we took off about fifteen minutes ago actually.” Bucky breathed out an impressed laughter, “My distraction technique always works. Keep the mind occupied on something else like the ugliest t-shirts in the world.”
Bucky smiled, “Thank you and thanks to the ugliest t-shirt ever-” it was then that a man wearing the exact t-shirt you had been slating got up from the seat in front of you and shot you a dirty look as he walked past, “Oh, shit.” It was hard to keep your laughter in but somehow you both managed it.
As you calmed down, Bucky sighed, “No, really, thank you for that.”
You smiled as you handed him the magazines back and sunk back into your seat, “And now, I sleep.”
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When you woke up a few hours later, you found yourself to be sitting alone with no Bucky Barnes in sight. You looked up to see a flight attendant coming down the aisle, “Excuse me,” you said with a smile, “do you know where the man sitting next to me went?”
She smiled, the same warm smile that every flight attendant has, “Yes, your husband is in the queue for the toilet, he should be back in a few minutes.”
You nodded, she went to leave when you caught her again, “Sorry, can you do me a favour?”
When Bucky came back, he was pleasantly surprised to see you sitting awake, smiling at him, “Good sleep?” You nodded,  “Don’t worry, you didn’t snore... too loud.” 
Your cheeks burned as he teased you, “Shove it, Barnes,” you scoffed, “I bought us a present.”
He frowned, “A present?”
You grinned as you held up two t-shirts, the exact same one that you both said was the ugliest shirt in the world, “No way!” He laughed, clapping his gloved hands together, “Oh my god, they’re worse in person.”
You laughed as you handed him his, “You’re so welcome. I will make us wear these at some point by the way, don’t think you’re getting out of it.” You’d never seen Bucky smile so wide with pure joy radiating from him. It was nice to see; it made you feel a lot better about the situation that was happening. You and Bucky hadn’t broached the subject of being the other’s soulmates, you actually really didn’t want to have that conversation anytime soon, but it was nice to know that at least you got on a little bit.
The fact that the pair of you were laughing so soon felt wrong. It felt like you were betraying Steve for merely getting along but it was nice. You were scared of what was going to happen and Bucky had been anxious about flying so the pair of you had nothing to do but talk to each other. Sure, it wasn’t a particularly interesting conversation but it was something. It was still a little awkward and a little weird at times but you could look past that for a few minutes to just appreciate the fact that Bucky was doing this.
Soon, you were curled back into your plane seat, your own jacket draped across you, “Thanks,” you said quietly as sleep began to take over,  “for doing this for Steve. I know that it’s not ideal and I know you probably don’t want to be stuck with me for weeks. I appreciate it, Bucky.”
Bucky nodded and didn’t say anything. I’m not doing it for only Steve, I’m doing it for you too. He watched you for a moment longer before closing his own eyes and resting into his own seat.
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The rest of the flight went by in a blur, you slept some more, read your book and ate some food. It wasn’t long before it was time to land and Bucky could not have been more happy than in the moment the wheels of the plane landed on the runway. The airport was a relatively quiet which meant that security and getting your bags was a lot faster than anticipated.
Soon, you were waiting with Bucky in line to get a rental car. To your surprise, when it was your turn to speak to the receptionist, Bucky slid a wad of cash over the counter, “I want a car to keep and I want it off book.”
The receptionist, who was a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair, eyed Bucky with narrow eyes and Bucky stared right back at him. You glanced between the two men wondering who would give up the staring contest first. After a pregnant pause, the receptionist shrugged and dug around in the drawer next to him before pulling out a car key, “Grey sedan in Lot C, registration plate ends with RUS. It’s old and a little worse for wear but for this price, best I can do.” He glanced from left to right before sliding the keys across the table. Apparently he seemed to accept the bribe. You raised your eyebrows, looking between the man and Bucky.
Bucky thanked him with a nod before taking the keys and picked up his and one of your bags before walking away with you in tow, “Wait,” you said quietly, rushing to keep up with him, “You just bought a car?!”
Bucky nodded, “We needed a car. This one will do for a while, keeps us off of the radar for a while.”
Finding the car was easy, the hard part was trying to keep up with Bucky. He took long, quick strides that were hard to keep up with. The car was parked alone in Lot C. It was a little old, with some dents and scratches in the doors from previous bumps and accidents and some of the paint had chipped but aside from that, it seemed to be fine. Bucky loaded the bags in the trunk before getting into the driver’s seat. You settled into your seat and Bucky said that it would be a forty minute drive but could do it in half the time if the road’s were quiet. Then, you both set off.
You couldn’t stop staring out of the window, looking at every single detail of Estonia. It seemed like a dream that you’d be waking up from any second now. Your hands fidgeted with your jacket sleeves as you stared out to the vast unknown. What would become of you and your relationship, you had no idea. You didn’t know what was going to happen and you had absolutely no clue where you would be going. A wave of uneasiness crashed over you as you tried to swallow down the nausea. 
The drive seemed to simultaneously be the longest and shortest drive ever. Seconds felt like years and minutes felt like nanoseconds. You just wanted things to go back to how they were two months ago when things were easy and simple and life was without colour. You glanced over at Bucky, wishing that it had been anyone besides him that was your soulmate. Bucky was a decent enough guy from the short time you’d been with him, I mean, he was willing to take you to a safe house for god knows how long after meeting each other less than three times so obviously he was a good guy but... even if you and Bucky ended up friends, ended up falling in love... nothing could ever happen. You just couldn’t do that to Steve. 
Oh, Steve. 
You wondered what he would be doing just now. He would probably be in the gym with Sam, boxing his feelings and emotions about the whole situation out. That’s what he usually did when things were tense or when he was stressed, he would go to the gym and work out for hours. Sam would usually go with him, being his comic relief to make things less stressful for him. You had never been so thankful for Sam Wilson than in that moment of realisation. You had been so focused on what this meant for you and how this would affect you that you’d practically overlooked your boyfriend’s feelings.
Steve would be blaming your kidnapping on himself, even though it wasn’t his fault that Hydra were dickheads. He would be devastated that he’d had to send you off with your soulmate, knowing fine well that you could easily come back home in love with Bucky. It had been so hard for Steve to make that decision but it had to be done. He wished that he could’ve came with you but it was his mess to clean up and he couldn’t just let his friends do it. He wasn’t that selfish even though he wished he could have been. Steve would rely on Sam pretty heavily over the coming weeks. Sam had been such a good friend to Steve in the few years they’d known each other. Sam understood Steve, they shared the same values and same morals and that was something you liked about Sam. Sam wasn’t afraid to stand up and fight for what was right. You knew that Steve would be in good hands with Sam at his side.
Little did you know, Bucky was thinking of Steve Rogers too as he drove. It was surreal that he was driving with you, through Estonia, to a safe house where you’d be for weeks, potentially months. It scared Bucky, honestly. He liked you, not in a romantic way (yet), but he had heard all about you from Steve. All of those months that Bucky was in Wakanda, Steve called every week to check on him. Every week, Steve would talk about you. He remembered the things he would say about you. ‘She’s great, Buck. She’s got this smile, this really wide smile that I’ve only seen a handful of people have in my life. You know the one I mean. That genuinely happy, makes you smile when you see it smile.’, ‘You gotta meet her, Bucky. She’s everything I’ve been looking for and even though we’re not soulmates, we are.’, ‘It’s crazy. After Peggy, I never thought I’d fall in love again but (y/n) came into my life when I needed her most. Every day, I wake up thankful for her. My god, you have to meet her. You two will get on so well. She keeps my on my toes and is hilarious.’
Bucky glanced at you, a familiar pang of guilt shooting through him. You were his best friend’s girl and he could never do anything to pursue you because he cared about Steve too much. Steve was the one person who had given him a chance and had stuck by him through everything. Steve deserved you, Bucky didn’t.
It wasn’t long before Bucky pulled into a driveway. You looked around, realising that you were deep in the woods. It was an off road cabin that seemed to be pretty far from civilisation, “This is it.” Bucky cut the engine before getting out of the car. You stayed put, staring at the cabin in front of you. From the outside, it looked a little run down but very liveable. It was made with a dark oak wood which blended in well with the trees. Passers by would have to do a double take at first because of how well it blended in.
You got out of the car, grabbing the rucksack that had been by your feet. Bucky appeared beside you, carrying all of his and your bags, “Ready?”
You didn’t look at him, eyes stuck on the cabin in front of you. This was it. This was your future. You were unusually terrified as you stared at it. As soon as you stepped into that cabin, your future would change forever. Everything would change. Life as you knew it with Steve would completely change as soon as you walked into that cabin. With your heart beating fast, you took a breath and nodded, following him up the stony path and to the front door. He unlocked it and swung the door open before disappearing inside. You hesitated at the front door, staring at the line on the floor to mark the cabin’s entrance.
“I love you, Steve,” you whispered before stepping into the cabin and closing the door behind you.
The cabin had an old musty smell to it, the smell of emptiness. Clearly, no one had lived here for a long time. The décor was simple and pretty outdated but it was nice. Bucky had flicked the lights on throughout the cabin and was checking each room just to double check. You wandered through each room. The living room was simple with a couple of recliners and a small couch with a small TV on an old coffee table. You’d be surprised if the TV still worked with a thick layer of dust coating it. There was a large fireplace in the middle of the side wall which would be nice on a cold night. The kitchen was nice with everything that the pair of you would need to get started in the wooden cupboards and on shelves. It had a small table in the corner of the room, looking out of the window. Bucky told you that tomorrow, he would go get some shopping and food supplies until then you had the water and a few more snacks.
Next, you ventured into the bedrooms. Yours and Bucky’s separate bedrooms were adjacent to each other. Bucky had dropped his bags in the slightly smaller room. You went to object but the look on his face told you not to even bother. Bucky’s room was smaller yet still spacious enough for a double bed and a wardrobe. Your room was pretty much the same though as well as a wardrobe you had the chest of drawers as well. The shared bathroom was beside your room and it was... well, it was just an outdated bathroom. And that was it.
The cabin wasn’t particularly big or luxurious but it was much than you had expected. You seriously were expecting to sleep on the floor on a bug infested hotel but Bucky had done pretty good. You’d long since abandoned your disguise, feeling much better when looking like yourself. As you wandered around again, checking cupboards, finding extra duvets and pillows in the wardrobe in your room, you remembered something important. You dug around in your bags until you found it; a picture frame. Bucky knocked on your bedroom door. You turned to him, “You don’t need to knock,” you said.
“Come so I can show you something.”
You followed him into the living room as you held the picture frame in your hands. He stopped in front of a painting on the wall moving the painting to reveal a safe, “Oh, wow,” you said surprised.
“I got this safe installed and I’m putting this gun inside it, okay?” He told you, taking a gun from his back pocket. You jumped slightly, not expecting him to wield a weapon in front of you, “This is for emergencies, got it? I’ll teach you how to use it but for now, I’m locking it up in here, okay?”
“I don’t want to use a gun-”
“Neither do I,” Bucky said, cutting over you, “but I have to at least show you how to use it just in case, okay? The code is 0407-”
“Steve’s birthday.”
Bucky faltered before nodding and continuing, “Yeah, Steve’s birthday. Type that in,” he typed it in, “and it’ll unlock.” He dropped the gun inside of it before closing it over, “Re-type the code and it locks. Got it?”
You nodded.
“I always have at least one weapon on me at all times, okay? I have my gun and I have my knife. I’m only putting this here and showing you just in case, okay? We’ll probably never have to use it but it’s just in case something happens, just so I know that if I can’t get to you, you can have some way to protect yourself.”
Again, you nodded. Bucky eyed you carefully, making sure that you were okay with this. You didn’t really know how to feel about it. You weren’t surprised that he had weapons but it scared you the thought of you having to use them. Hopefully it would never come to that though. He could see the toll this was taking on you and you’d barely been gone a day. He was about to ask what you had in your hands when you wandered over to the fireplace and put the photo atop. It was a photo that you had once upon a time hated. It was you and Steve laughing as you posed for a picture in front of your Christmas tree. Nat had taken it on Christmas Eve. You wore a dress that hugged your curves a little too tightly for your liking but Steve had loved to see you in that dress. He always said the colour complimented your complexion so well and now that you could actually see colour, you could see where he was coming from. You loved that picture now, you remembered the night fondly where he twirled you around, telling you how beautiful you were every other minute. So yeah, you could see your protruding stomach and your bigger arms but you loved it. You smiled as you looked at Steve’s smile, heart soaring as you looked at him. Steve could make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. With him, you truly believed it. Your weight never defined your worth, you defined it.
Almost instantly, Bucky lunged for it, grabbing it and almost tumbling into you,  “What the fuck?!” You hissed, leaping backwards. You hadn’t expected the dark haired super soldier to lunge from across the room, almost knocking you off of your feet to grab the picture frame down.
Bucky released a sharp breath, “The window,” he said gruffly. He pulled the curtains shut quickly, “We can’t put any photos up.”
“Why the fuck not?!”
He rolled his eyes, Steve had warned him that you could be stubborn, “In case we’re being watched. If someone’s tailing us, they might look through the window and have our identities confirmed if we put photos up.”
You rolled your eyes, “If someone’s tailing us then I’m pretty sure that they know our identities already. Give me it back.”
“Fine but you’re not putting it there,” Bucky said.
You glared at him as a bubble of anger boiled in your stomach, “My god, how am I meant to stay here with you for weeks if you’re such an arse over a photo?!”
“Yeah?” Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t have to come here, (y/n). I came because Steve asked. I came for you.”
You were breathing heavy as you glared at each other, “Yeah well maybe I don’t want you here.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be here!”
“Keep the stupid picture.” You turned on your heel and stormed into your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. You knew that you weren’t angry at Bucky, you knew that the two of you were tired and hungry. You knew that you were a flurry of emotions from having your life flipped upside down. You knew that Bucky was looking out for your safety but you were pissed and he was the only person near you so he would have to deal with it. 
Bucky sighed heavily as he fell onto the couch, pursing his lips and pinching the bridge of his nose. Yeah, Steve, she’s fucking brilliant. 
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It was hours later when you rolled over with a huff. Sleep wasn’t coming easily. You were still too pissed off and because you were still so pissed off, you were only getting more annoyed. You knew that if the anger faded, you’d probably end up crying and you didn’t know which was worse so you just stayed angry. You wished that Bucky would’ve just been able to talk to you normally instead of treating you like a child. You would’ve absolutely understood the picture fiasco had he not leapt over the table and yanked it like a dog stealing someone’s dinner from the table. 
You sat up in bed. Usually, if you couldn’t sleep you’d watch TV or go on your phone but you didn’t feel up for watching the tiny TV in the living room and you obviously didn’t have a phone so you couldn’t do much than think. You’d need to see if there was a cheap CD player and CDs in town so that you could at least have some background noise. The cabin was eerily quiet at night. It was a different surrounding in a different country and everything just felt a little uneasy. You were used to New York where the hustle and bustle was part of every day life but the woods was so quiet aside from the rustling trees... it would take some getting used to.
With a huff, you grabbed your dressing gown from the bag on the floor and made your way into the kitchen. You grabbed a glass and filled it with water before taking a long drink. You didn’t know why you wandered into the living room but you found yourself venturing in and it was then you noticed, in the dim light from the moon, you saw a note and the picture of you and Steve that sat on the coffee table in front of the TV. You picked up the note.
I’m sorry about freaking out over the picture, it’s been a long day. Steve warned me you were stubborn but I wasn’t prepared, I guess. Let’s not put it on the fire place until we’re absolutely sure that no one’s tracking us. Until then, it can go here where it’s not facing a window. Hope that’s okay. It is a lovely picture of you and Steve... Again, sorry. - Bucky
You smiled slightly as you read it before slipping the note into your dressing gown pocket and going back to bed. So Bucky Barnes was decent after all.
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arvinsescape · 3 years
Text
Being public
Summary: You and Tom have recently gone public and he gets asked about you in an interview.
W/C: 1.3K
A/N: I hope you enjoy!
You and Tom had been together for almost a year and a half and you couldn’t be happier, although he hadn’t had many relationships throughout his career, he knew he felt different about you. You felt like home to him, he was the most excited to see you whenever he came back from filming or touring for press. He’d asked you to move in with him throughout the quarantine and pandemic, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to cope with not seeing you and so you’d moved in with him and the boys.
You’d recently made the decision to go public, it wasn’t an easy one and he was incredibly nervous, he knew what some of his fanbase could be like and with you not being famous he wanted to wait as long as possible in order to protect you from the onslaught of negative comments. When you had gone public, most of his fans were actually very lovely and supportive, happy to see their favourite actor in a happy and loving relationship. Of course, that didn’t stop some people from being rude and unkind towards you. You did your best to ignore it, only using social media for brief periods of time in order to not get stuck in the wormhole of reading nasty comments.
He was recently set to do an interview over skype in order to promote his new film, this would be the first one he’d done since you’d become public. He was nervous because he knew that he was going to be asked about you and he didn’t want to let too much slip, you’d spent hours calming his nerves before the interview, reassuring him that it would be okay and that if he did let anything slip that you would deal with it together. He’d started the interview almost 20 minutes ago, having left you and Tess cuddled up on the couch together, the interview going well so far as they discussed his newest role. But inevitably the questions about the film had dried out and the interviewer wanted to know more about the woman who had stolen his heart.
“So, Tom, you’ve recently revealed that you are in fact not single?”
“No, I’m in a very happy relationship, we’ve been together around a year and a half now.” He answered, he couldn’t help the grin that spread onto his face as he thought about you.
“What made you decide to go public after all this time?”
“The timing just felt right. We talked about it for weeks before we decided to confirm everything to the world. When everything opens back up it will be nice to go out for meals without having to try and hide, you know?” He answered as he thought back to the lengthy conversations you’d had about the subject.
“Where did you meet her?”
“We actually met in a coffee shop just down the road from my house, I saw her with a few friends. Took me at least half an hour to pluck up the courage to actually speak to her.” He laughed as he replayed the memory.
“She is very beautiful I must say.” Tom couldn’t help but smile at that. “What’s she like? She seems quite private still.”
“She’s amazing, honestly. She’s so kind and intelligent. Much more intelligent than me.” This earned a laugh from both the interviewer and Tom. “She’s incredibly patient and supportive of everything that I do. She’s quite honestly one of the most amazing people I have ever met.”
“She certainly sounds it. What is it she does for a living?” The interviewer asked him. He took a few seconds before he answered. This was something he decided should be kept private. He didn’t want people knowing where you worked in case anything happened, he’d heard enough horror stories of crazy fans ringing into places that their celebrity crushes partner worked, and he didn’t want that stress for you.
“I’m actually not going to answer that. She does have a job, but I think for her safety and privacy it’s best left alone.” He answered in the politest way possible.
“Fair enough, can’t argue with that. How well does she get along with your family? It seems you’re a very family orientated person.”
“My family absolutely love her. She sees them when I’m away filming quite a lot. Goes on coffee dates with my mum and dad. My brothers come round to check on her and spend time with her. They absolutely love her, sometimes I think they prefer her to me.” He laughed.
“That’s amazing to hear Tom! Where is she right now?”
“She’s actually in the other room with Tess. Ever since she moved in, you’d think Tess was her dog, she absolutely adores her. Follows her around everywhere. Mopes around the house when she goes out to run errands. She’s always more excited to see Y/N than she is me.” He smiled; he really did love the relationship you had with his dog.
A few more questions were thrown in before they said their goodbyes. Tom switched his laptop off and stretched, proud of himself for keeping private what you’d wanted to and happy that he had an interviewer that wasn’t to intrusive and pushy, happy to take no for an answer. All the talking about you made his heart flutter and he couldn’t wait to get back into his comfy clothes and snuggle up with you on the couch for the night.
As he made his way back into the living room his heart stopped as he took you in. You were silently crying. Shit, had he said something he wasn’t supposed to? His mind was running a million miles an hour as he tried to think of what he might have said to upset you. He knew you’d been watching the interview.
“Baby? Are you okay?” he asked as he hesitantly made his way towards you. You sniffled and looked up at him with a grin on your face.
“I’m fine. Just a little emotional about what you said about me.” You answered as he sat down next to you. He pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head. His heart rate had returned to normal as he realised that he hadn’t upset you.
“Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know, I just love you so much and I’m on my period so I’m feeling super emotional. They’re happy tears I promise.” You answered as you leant up to kiss his cheek. His heart fluttered at that. He really did love you more than he thought possible. He knew you were the woman for him.
“I love you too darling. I meant all of it you know. You really are amazing, and I love you a whole lot.” He grinned as your tears subsided. You spent the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch, watching films and expressing your love for one and other. You’d fallen asleep leant on his chest a while ago and Tom took the opportunity to scroll through his social media. All his fans were talking about was how happy they were for him and how they wished they could find a man who loved them like Tom loved Y/N. He smiled at the overwhelming amount of love and support being thrown your way and the amount of fans that were defending you from the small amount of hate you had received. He locked his phone content with how much better going public had been for the two of you.
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reidingandwriting · 3 years
Text
"Deja Vu"
Word Count: ~2300 words
Ship: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (ex/platonic?), Peter Parker x Michelle Jones
Warnings: A curse word or two, slightly OOC moments but it is fan-fiction so :)
A/N: I'm in love with this song and had to write this. Popped this baby out in 3 hours, and I'm pretty happy with it. Side note: I created my own timeline for this lmao. Morgan exists, but they don't live in the cabin. Reader is mentioned to be fem once or twice, but reads neutral besides that! Reader is Tony's kid but it could be read as adopted/his bio kid.
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“One strawberry ice cream, just for you.” Peter said as he set the cup down in front of MJ, a single spoon dipped in the light pink dessert. MJ immediately started to eat as Peter took a seat beside her, and you and Ned were seated across from the couple at a local ice cream shop you had discovered. The one where you had taken him, where you had convinced him to try the strawberry ice cream instead of the vanilla he always got. You scooped a spoonful of your rocky road ice cream a little too aggressively, unable to eat your favorite ice cream flavor anymore.
“Thanks, Parker, it’s really good.” MJ said and Peter nudged her shoulder.
“Mind if I steal a bite?’
“Of course I mind.” MJ deadpanned and Peter blanched before MJ smirked at him. “Go ahead, loser. Just one.” MJ gave him a look and Peter saluted.
“Scout’s honor.” Peter took MJ’s spoon before he took a bite, and you barely held back the scowl as you looked over at Ned. He gave you a sympathetic smile and tapped his foot against yours under the safety of the booth. You brushed your shoulder against Ned’s while Peter and MJ were too entranced by each other to notice.
“If you get any ice cream on my jacket, I’m burning yours.” MJ’s words were menacing, but you all knew she was (mostly) kidding. Peter scoffed and held his hand against his chest in mock offense, the sleeves of MJ’s jean jacket comedically too short on Peter’s arms. MJ was dressed in Peter’s Midtown hoodie, the same one you had worn just a few months ago.
You thought it would have been funny to switch jackets, knowing your jacket would look funny on him, while you wore Peter’s oversized hoodie. And now here was MJ, wearing the same sweatshirt, while Peter wore her jacket. Have any original ideas, Parker?
“Earth to Y/N.” MJ waved her hand in your face, and you snapped back to the present. “You okay? You zoned out there for a minute.”
“Yeah, sorry. Morgan decided she wanted a sleepover last night, so we just had to build a pillow fort in my room, and that felt fantastic on my back. Almost as great as her practically laying on top of me all night.” You chuckled. “And you know I couldn’t move her, she’s got me wrapped around her finger.”
“And she knows it.” Peter said and you smiled over at him.
“Speaking of Morgan. She’s been asking me all week about if you want to come over sometime this weekend. She’s in a big Lion King phase, and she wants ‘her Petey’ to come have a pajama party with her and have a sing-along. She’s Nala, of course.” Ned snorted and Peter’s face fell.
“I can’t this weekend. MJ and I are having a Glee watch party this weekend, can you believe she’s never seen Glee?” Peter asked and you felt a pang of jealousy in your stomach.
“Oh, really?” You asked. Much like you hadn’t seen it either, until six months ago. “It’s pretty iconic, but also the worst show ever. Singing along is pretty fun, just being annoying. Really fun.” You thought back to when you and Peter were in your room, doing the same thing.
“Don’t stop believing!” Peter stood on your bed, using the remote as a microphone to serenade you. Peter looked at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes before singing the next line, just as enthusiastically as he did.
“Hold on to the feeling!” Peter cheered and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. “You’re so annoying, Parker.”
“As annoying as this show?”
“Almost.”
“Then I’m not quite done yet.”
“Raincheck next weekend, maybe?” Peter asked and you shrugged.
“I’ll have to check with Madame Secretary. She’ll likely be over The Lion King by next weekend, it’ll be ‘baby stuff.’” Your phone buzzed and you excused yourself before checking the text.
Iron Dad: Hey, kid. Are you busy?
You: A little. Why?
Iron Dad: Pep and I have an emergency meeting for work, and Happy’s sick so he can’t watch Maguna
You: I’m on my way. Give me five to say goodbye
Iron Dad: Thanks, Y/N/N. We owe you one
You: You owe me several. Love you
Iron Dad: Love you tons
“I’m sorry, guys, duty calls.” You smiled, albeit a little sadly, at your friends. “I’ll see you Monday at school?”
“We better. We have a project in chemistry due on Monday.” Ned said and you flipped him off.
“Science is my best class, you know I’ve had the project done and Dr. Banner approved since the project was announced in class.” You winked at Ned before waving at MJ and Peter. “See you later, lovebirds.” You internally cringed when ‘lovebirds’ came out more bitter than you intended. With goodbyes exchanged, you left the ice cream parlor, and you bit back the tears you felt beginning to build up. Did he feel it, too? Did he remember that you did that, too? Was he ever going to tell her all the ‘unique’ things Peter’s done were reused, that you had found them first? You wiped at your eyes before you hailed a taxi, and you shoved all your feelings down to be at your best for your little sister.
--
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Morgan barreled down the hall when you stepped out of the elevator, and you barely bent down to catch her in time as she collided with you.
“Morgan, Morgan, Morgan!” You scooped your sister up into your arms and peppered her face with kisses until she was laughing, and your mood immediately lifted at the sound. “Where’s Mom and Dad?”
“Mom’s at work, Dad’s in his room. He’s leaving us.” Morgan pouted and you copied her expression.
“Oh, no. You’re stuck with me tonight. Too bad I’m not tall enough to reach the juice pops in the freezer.” You gasped. “Oh, wait. I am!” Morgan thrusted her fist into the air with a cheer, and you set her down. “I need to go talk to Dad real quick, then we can do almost whatever you want.” You emphasized the almost, knowing she’d ask for something you definitely shouldn’t do, then argue that you said ‘anything.’ You definitely saw a career in law for her when she got older.
“Kay-kay. I’ll go get coloring books, then we get juice pops?”
“Deal.” You offered your pinky out, and she linked pinkies with yours before she ran off to her room. You shook your head fondly before you walked off to your dad’s room, and you knocked on his door before coming in. “Dad?”
“Hey, kiddo. Come on in, I’m just packing a few things for Pep.” You walked over to the bag your dad had packed, and you began to inspect everything. “Have I been approved?”
“I think I need a hug before giving approval.” You opened your arms and your dad happily pulled you into his chest, and he held you close, as if he could sense your feelings.
“Are you okay? Do I need to stay?” Tony rubbed your back and rocked you gently, and you buried your face deeper into his chest, your eyes watering and you gripped his shirt tighter, a habit you developed when Tony first took you in- you always grabbed onto him like he was your security blanket, and Tony quickly learned there was no use in getting you to let go until you were ready.
“No, I’m okay.” Your voice was muffled but you made no effort to move yet. “Mom needs you.” You paused. “You’ll be back soon, right?”
“Luckily we’re just headed to the New York headquarters. I hope we’re home by midnight, but I’ll tell you when we find out for sure.” You nodded and let go of your dad, and he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, and he wiped your tears away with his thumb and the action almost made you cry again. “Ben and Jerry’s and sad movies when I get back, or should I get a few punching bags set up in the gym?”
“Ben and Jerry’s.” Tony nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you patted his arm, telling him he could continue packing. “ Don’t forget Mom’s favorite lipstick. She always keeps one on her, but you can never be too safe.”
“Lifesaver.” Tony said before he went back to packing.
“I should go check on Morgan, let you finish getting packed.” You said and Tony smiled at you, a softness in his eyes reserved solely for you, Morgan, and Pepper.
“Have I ever told you that you’re the best big sister?”
“I do my best.” You smile back before leaving. Fingers crossed she hadn’t made a mess already.
--
You laid in bed, scrolling through your camera roll with tears streaming down your cheeks. You pressed play on a video and let out a choked sob as you watched. You and Peter were seated at the piano in the living room, and your fingers moved gracefully across the keys, playing one of your favorite songs that Peter had begged you to play for him. The familiar sounds of Billy Joel’s ‘Uptown Girl’ filled your ears, and you sang along as you played. You turned to Peter, nodded at him, and he began to play the same song after you. You hugged him at the end of the song, grinning since he had finally learned it, and you began to play it again, Peter joining you in singing along. Not even that was reserved for you and him anymore, as you had learned recently.
“I didn’t know you played.” You said as MJ took a seat at the piano, Peter seated beside her.
“Oh, I just learned. Peter taught me the one song he knows how to play.” Your heart sank and now Ned was curious.
“What song?” Don’t say it, don’t say it.
“Uptown Girl.” MJ began to play, and you felt your lip begin to tremble. Your song. The one you had taught him. You looked away as Peter quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek after the first chorus, and he whispered something into her ear. You turned to Ned and dove deep into a conversation, refusing to cry in front of them.
You jumped when you heard a knock on your window, and you grabbed the baseball bat you kept by your bed. You would have called for Bucky or Sam, but the pair were off on their own mission. You got out of bed, wiping away your tears, and you walked to the window, bat at the ready. “FRIDAY, who’s getting knocked to next year with my bat?”
“It appears Peter Parker is the one outside your window.” Peter? Of course it was.
“Lights on dim, FRI.” You set the bat down and opened the window, and Peter popped into view. “Peter? What the hell? You almost gave me a heart attack, dude.”
“I’m sorry, I know, sorry. I didn’t plan on coming out here, but I needed to talk to you.” You gestured for Peter to come in, and you suddenly realized how you had to look to him. You were in a shirt you had stolen from Thor- what? His shirt got mixed up with yours, finders keepers. You were in an old pair of sweatpants that were covered in various stains- paint from Morgan, some grease from Tony’s lab, and a bleach mark from where you and Peter were goofing around in the lab and you spilled some mystery chemical on your pants. And let’s not even talk about your puffy eyes and the tear marks on your cheeks from a night of crying.
“About what?” You sat on your bed, eyes not meeting Peter’s.
“About earlier at the ice cream parlor. You seemed really… spaced out. Not yourself. And I caught you scowling once.”
“I didn’t scowl.” You tried to defend yourself but you sighed, knowing he was right.
“And ever since MJ and I started dating, you’ve just seemed different. You’re not, like, jealous, are you?” And you couldn’t help but laugh. Truly laugh, which caused Peter’s brows to furrow. “What’s so funny?”
“You think I’m jealous! Why should I be jealous?” Peter frowned at how you weren’t taking him seriously, and he was confused.
“You know, we had… a thing. Not that we dated, but I mean, we were really close you know.”
“Oh, I know.” Like a switch, your emotions flipped from sad to frustrated in seconds. “And I’m seeing all these ‘things’ we had all over again.” It was Peter’s turn to start getting irritated, and he crossed his arms.
“Oh, really? Like what?”
“Strawberry ice cream at the parlor, you can’t act like we didn’t do that. Trading jackets, we did that shit too. Teaching her piano when I taught you, how do you not get deja vu?” Peter opened his mouth to talk and you held your hand up. “You’ve got a different girl, but there’s nothing new. I discovered those places you take her, I showed you Glee, I taught you the jokes that you tell to her. When are you gonna tell her? She thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused. I know I get deja vu, don’t you?” You had started to cry again, and Peter started to defend himself until FRIDAY spoke.
“Y/N, your father and mother have returned home. You may want to continue this conversation later.” You looked at Peter who wordlessly nodded. He walked to the window, and he paused before he spoke.
“We’ll talk Monday after patrol. Bye, Y/N/N.” You whispered goodbye before he left and you shut the window before you dropped to your knees, letting out broken sobs.
“I get deja vu when she’s with you…”
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thr-333 · 3 years
Text
Drastic Measures- Part 8
@daminette-december2019-2020
~Wind~
It’s just a nice day in Gotham, like always.
Ao3
First< Previous > Next
--------------
“You know what?” Ladybug says to Chat as they both take shelter from the wind, “I really hate Gothams weather,”
“It’s fine Ladybug,” Chat jokes, daring to look around the building only to hide again with severely windswept hair, "Just don't go into hibernation,”
“I might just watch me,”
“You there!” they both look over to see an officer pointing a gun at them, “Leave! Let the pros handle this!”
“Excuse me! We are the pros!” Ladybug snaps despite their cowering behind a building from wind.
“But if you want to try take over your welcome to it!” Chat Noir yells, grabbing Ladybug and leaving their shelter before they got shot. They get thrown back into the wind, blown back a few steps. They hold onto each other working together to reach the Akuma hiding in a self-made tornado.
“Do you think someone was just as mad at the weather as I am!?” Ladybug yells over the wind, trying to throw her yo-yo only for it to get blown back in her face.
“Well, I have to say this is kind of a step-down!” Chat shouts, trying to poke his staff through the tornado getting jerked to the side, only saved by Ladybug catching him, “Stormy Weather could control all sorts of weather,”
“Yeah and almost started several global catastrophes!”Ladybug pulls him back down to the ground, both crouching down.
“Well, maybe we need some luck before there's another!”
“You got it,” Ladybug nods, gearing up to throw her yoyo, “Lucky charm!”
The lucky charm is immediately blown away.
“... Maybe we should have done that further away,” Chat muses.
“You think so?” Ladybug sighs, “Maybe the city road maintenance could use some bad luck?”
“Oh I get what you're putting down,” Chat grins, “Cata-”
“Help!” The look towards the cry, a couple of officers and their car getting pulled up to the sky.
“Looks like they took you up on your offer,” Ladybug deadpans, running over to them with a tailwind.
“I was trying to make a joke!” Chat Noir jumps up catching the two and getting carried off by the wind.
“Trying,” Ladybug throws her yoyo out wrapping it around Chat and pulling him and the officers down.
“Well how about we try making a new manhole?” Chat Noir places the officers on the ground, they duck down getting pressed to the road by the winds.
“That's all you Kitty!” Ladybug shelters the police long enough they can grab onto a lamp post.
“Cataclysm!” Chat Noir hits the ground, lowering the level of destruction to a smaller radius. He keeps it activated until the hole is big enough for them to drop down into. Ladybug sticks close to him as they tunnel under the tornado.
“Do we know where the Akuma is?”
“Why don’t you brainstorm?” Chat says with slight irritation, “Kinda trying to focus,”
“Sorry,” Ladybug cringes, keeping quiet for him.
“Here should be good,” Chat Noir says, turning to point his hand up and make their way back to the surface. They pop up in the eye of the tornado everything calm but wind gushing around them. Marinette throws out her yo-yo unimpeded catching the floating Akuma's legs and pulling them to the ground.
“YoU!” The Akuma lashes out at her with a fan, a slight flick, and Ladybug is blown back into the tornado.
“Chat! The fan!” Ladybug tries to pull herself back into the calm but the winds are too strong, she only prevents not being blown away by her yoyo still wrapped around the Akuma's legs.
“On it! Cataclysm repeat!” He calls on it again grabbing the fan and turning it to dust. The storm calms and Ladybug lands on her feet getting the leverage she needs to grab the butterfly and purify it.
“Bye bye little butterfly,”
“No to be the bearer of bad news,” Chat Noir half whispers to her, “But we're out of the pot and into the fire,”
Ladybug looks around to see the police starting to form a shaky barricade around them, it's easy enough to evade if the batclan wasn't blocking every viable exit.
“So police or Batman?”
“I honestly can’t deal with his high and mighty routine right now,” Ladybug sighs still chilled to the bone from the wind, “Police,”
She walks over with purpose to the man she had researched was the commissioner; Gordon. On her way she finds a spotted item lying on the side of the road. So that's where her lucky charm went. A fan, cute.
“Miraculous ladybug!” Ladybug stands before commissioner Gordon, whom she knew had to have dealings with Batman, he marvels at the repairing ladybugs until she gets his attention, “You want to talk sir?”
“You finally want to talk to me?” He asks instead, almost good naturally if tired like he was used to it. Definitely had dealings with Batman.
“If I wanted to hear get out of my city and leave this to me I would just record him,” Ladybug gets Chat to chuckle, not the commissioner but she can tell he wants to, “What did you want to talk about?”
“Your a hero unaffiliated with the Justice League or any government,” The commissioners lays out, “In other words, you're a vigilante and I don’t know if you can be trusted with Gotham's safety, Batmans been around for years he’s a vigilante but he does protect the city, so why are you here?”
“I understand your concerns sir, but unfortunately this isn’t a matter of borders or what city each hero protects, the villain hawkmoth can only be stopped by us or other miraculous users, so even if you dont approve we will continue to operate even if we have to fight the police along the way,” Ladybug says with all the confidence, hoping to also portray that she really dosent want to, “As for trust we operated in Paris for years, we have the trust to the citizens and officials, if you want a reference call the chief of police or the Mayor we have worked under the approval of both,”
“I will, thank you Ladybug,”
“No problem,” Her earring beeps, “Now if you’ll excuse us, bug out,”
They jump up, using their skills to reach the rooftops.
“Oh man I forgot about this guy,” Chat complains as Batman is right there when they land.
“Ladybug-”
“Yes leave the city, yes I’m not needed here, thank you I’ve heard it before,” Ladybug tries to just walk past him but Robin lands in her way, “You know we have to stop meeting like this, wouldn't you prefer a nice dinner date?”
Robin makes a choking sound which must be offended. Chat laughs, coming to lean on her shoulder.
“We’ve traded places bug-a-boo,”
“Heh,” She smirks at the old nickname, “bird-a-boo,”
Robin completely freezes, giving them the chance to run by, he doesn't even react, until she calls.
“Later bird-a-boo~”
It’s an interesting reaction.
---
“You seem distracted,” Marinette tells Damian, both working separately together in their study.
“I’M NOT!”
“Oh forgive me, clearly you are completely relaxed,” Marinette rolls her eyes, pinning a new design to the wall.
“Heh there must be a pretty girl in his life,” Adrien smirks from the seat he stole from her earlier.
“Why are you even here?!” Damian snaps, taking the papers Adrien was shifting through.
“You didn’t deny it~”
“Oh is there someone?” Marinette ignores the sick feeling for plastered cheerfulness, “Tell us about her,”
“It’s none of your business!” Damina snatches some more papers from the desk and storms out, blushing all the while.
“Don’t be embarrassed!” Marinette calls after him letting go of her gratefulness she didn’t have to hear about her, she says quieter, “I bet she’s super cool,”
“I’m noticing a pattern with you Marinette,” Adrien hums, her sketchbook now taking up his attention.
“Adrien I was madly in love with you for like a year and you didn’t realize so I highly doubt you can notice a thing,” Marinette takes her book from him, whacking him lightly with it.
“Right back at you bug,” Adrien tries to snatch it back from her only to get pushed back.
“Flirting doesn't count,” Marinette rolls her eyes, putting her book safely on the shelf, “No one can tell if you’re serious,”
“Is that so~” Adrien hums, “What about Robin?”
“I’m not flirting with him,” Marinette rolls her eyes, gathering up some fabric to start her next project.
“You so are ,” Adrien accuses, outraged.
“I am not!” She slams the fabric down on the desk and turns to him.
“So are,” Adrien smirks sinking back into the seat.
“I don’t even know him,” Marinette rolls her eyes again it's scary how much that's becoming second nature at this point.
“You could~”
“Adrien!”
--------
No tag list sorry, I’m horrible at keeping track of them :P
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Text
Drive By ~ Reggie (part 2)
A/n: This part’s Discord link! I want to clarify this time that the discord server is actually run by @httpnxtt ! So bless her for giving us a place to SCREAM (as we so often do!) Also I wrote this listening to “Lover Man” by Ricky Montgomery and this HEAVILY follows that song so feel free to listen to it to enhanse the experience!
Word Count: 7400+
Warnings: OKay so listen this part could potentially be super triggering so READ THIS PLEASE!!!! Grief (blaming yourself, anger, depression, etc), trauma reaction to arguing/yelling, trauma reaction to assumed physical abuse, implied minors having past sexual experiences, internalized homophobia, people discriminate against soulmates in this au, implied domestic disputes, rejection. I... think that’s it I’m so sorry if I’ve forgotten something.
MASTERLIST
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Reggie really hated soulmates.
He liked seeing other people and their soulmates, and he loved talking about soulmates with other people. It's just, if he'd had the choice, he wished more than anything that he could have just... not had one himself. He'd rather just be one of those odd people who never manifested a soulmate connection; that would be so, so much better if this is what having a soulmate meant for him.
Now, Reggie didn't always feel this way. When he was younger he used to listen to people talk about their soulmates all the time and dream of a future when he got his. His parents had been one of those people who strongly believed that soulmates were a bad thing, and had been open and proud that they weren't soulmates. Maybe seeing them argue all the time had been the basis of his love for soulmates, and his drive to find his.
If only he could tell his young self that life isn't that simple. There's no magical cure to loneliness, and soulmates aren't all they're cracked up to be. Not for him. Nothing ever was, for him.
"Reg?"
The bassist looked over, eyes wide as his name was called. "Yeah?"
Alex was the one looking at him, concern creasing his features. "You seem really distracted today. You alright?"
In all honesty, he absolutely wasn't. Ever since they'd been forcefully brought back into the land of the living as ghosts, and now they were trying to make a band again and Alex had found his soulmate and the world was so crazy different and Luke was acting weird like he ALWAYS did when soulmates were involved and Reggie was really overwhelmed.
"Yeah," he answered anyway. Thinking about soulmates makes him finally make a decision he's been trying to avoid for a few days now. "I'm a little restless. I think I'm going to go on a walk. Take a page out of your book." He smiles and stands up, and Alex nods.
Luke looked over. Reggie should have known Luke would have known that Reggie didn't like walks like Alex did. "Do you want company?"
"No," Reggie answered immediately. It came off less as desperate and more insistent though, so he didn't stress about how fast he'd said it. Usually he'd love to have Luke around, but he couldn't for what he wanted to do. Especially because he knew the only reason Luke wanted to go along is because the last time one of them went on a walk they came back with a soulmate mark, and he didn't want Luke to be all over him and protective. He couldn't deal with that right now. Luke's face fell though and Reggie added, "I just need some space you know?" His voice was soft this time, and Luke nodded after a second, a small smile on his face.
With that, Reggie poofed out of the garage and was outside, turning away to begin walking down the road.
The sun was going down before he found what he'd been looking for. He'd had to sneak around and peak where he probably shouldn't of, but he had to know. Fine, it was creepy. He wasn't proud. But he... he HAD to know.
It was his snooping that had brought him to the graveyard.
Walking through the yard looking at every single head stone searching for the one name he was most afraid to see but knew he eventually would, Reggie realized that in all of the things that he had imagined when he'd thought about tracking down a certain someone from his past every single outcome possible made him just as sick as this did.
Finally he came across the grave he was looking for. At the top was a name. Y/n's name. Reggie sat on the dirt, legs crossed, hands in his lap. As he looked at the grave, he felt the top right corner of his chest itch. The spot just below his collar bone. His hand itched to touch it, but he wasn't like Luke. He didn't give into urges. He was too afraid if he touched it enough times people would realized the real reason he never wanted to change in front of anyone else.
His eyes closed and he sighed. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the gravestone. "I remember the night you left. The hours Luke spent crying when his soulmate mark turned grey. I remember Alex holding him so tightly and calming him down. How I had to..." He swallowed. "I had to be quiet about how much it hurt me too." He sat back, his eyes opening again as he looked at the year on the tombstone. He reached out, his fingers grazing over the year Y/n had died. "You died the same year we did. I wonder how it happened. How many months were you around that we weren't? What-" His voice choked with emotion. "Did you hear about us? What happened? Did you even care?" His voice was soft and it faded, his hands raising to rub at his face. Finally, Reggie shook his head and moved to his feet. He bent down to touch the top of the stone. "I'm sorry for how things happened all those years ago." And then he turned away and he left, and he didn't look back.
-
"You should ask him out."
Reggie jumped and his eyes whipped around. When had Y/n gotten to the studio?  "Oh hey." He tried to smile and laugh the comment off, but his fear at being caught red handed made his stomach twist and both the sound and the expression he made were contorted with awkwardness.
Y/n rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall next to Reggie. "Listen I might be gay, but I'm not stupid." He grinned. "Luke. Talk to him."
Without meaning to, Reggie looked back at Luke. He was talking to Alex and Bobby about the newest song he'd written and how he wanted it to sound. Alex had asked about what the song was about and it had set Luke off for half an hour. Reggie hadn't taken his eyes off of the lead singer since the conversation had started. When talking about music and things he was passionate about in general, Luke was so... beautiful? That really was the word for it. He wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been sure no one was looking... he'd forgotten Y/n was coming over today. Even then, how did the dude just walk in without alerting a single other person in the room?
Reggie cleared his throat and looked away from Luke. At least it was Y/n. He didn't have to hide from Y/n. In the small time he'd been going out with Luke, Y/n had been the most amazing person Reggie had ever met. He was so warm and welcoming. He made Reggie feel safe, like every time he was around Reggie was coming home. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced since his parents had ruined the feeling of safety and belonging in his house, and since his feelings for Luke had made everything so weird for him in the studio. Both places had lots of good feelings and memories and got so very close, but it was Y/n that really drove it home, if you will. Because of this, when Reggie spoke, it was with defeat and not denial. "I can't."
"Why not?" Y/n asked.
Looking over at Y/n with an odd expression, Reggie felt himself  get really confused. Was this one of those times he had missed something that was obvious to most people, or was that as weird as it felt? "You just learned I have feelings for your boyfriend and you want me to act on them?"
A soft, low laugh rumbled and Reggie felt himself smile despite himself. "He's not my boyfriend." Something between a grimace and a bittersweet smile rested on Y/n's lips, and slowly the sweet part of it was fading away. "He made that very clear." Reggie went to defend Luke but Y/n just held up a hand. "I know. I understand, I really do. Soulmates are like a huge taboo, and it doesn't help that we're both dudes. Trust me, I know how bad it can ruin your life when people find out you're not straight."
Reggie thought about Alex. "Most of us do," he said without thinking.
Y/n just nodded, not pressing Reggie for more information. Y/n was really good about reading people like that. Knowing what to say and when to say it. It was as if he could feel the spike of panic that Reggie had felt a second after saying what he had. "And I understand that too. I don't BLAME him. I'm not MAD at him. It just sucks. I mean, your parents don't know we're friends. None of your fans know I even exist. I mean Bobby and Alex are IN the band and they only found out about us like a week ago. We've been seeing each other for a month and a half." He scoffed. "I hate feeling like a secret. Like... he's ashamed of me. Like I'm sort of dirty pleasure. The way people look at porn." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly he's lucky he's worth it." This was said with more humor, and Reggie was relieved to feel the dark mood begin to slip away. "I have plenty of people who'd be very public about being in love with me." Then he winked at Reggie.
Without knowing why, Reggie's face went warm and his heartbeat picked up. It was the exact same thing that had happened when Luke made eye contact with him while they were singing, or when they got too close while sharing the mic and their shoulders or legs brushed. That moment of intense adrenaline when it was suffocatingly hot and Reggie's blood was rushing and then the guy he'd been crushing on for years looked at him and made him feel like he was the only person in the room. Reggie had always been so relieved that Luke could only do that during performances, when Reggie had something else to focus on immediately. When he had to be professional, and not when they were alone and he couldn't hold himself back from kissing Luke if given the chance.
How could Y/n make him feel like that now? They were just sitting here!
"If you're sad he won't publically be with you, then-"
"Because you two can have a relationship in public. People have seen you perform and no one blinks at it. Not at the way you look at each other, or how fine you are with invading each others' space. It's just written off as bandmates stuff. You probably share a room, or have known each other very long. Unless you kissed on stage no one would even care. Only the other gays would know and what are they gonna do, judge you?" He snickered and Reggie had to admit it made him smile. "You both have good reputations. It's as fair for me to be hidden as it is for him to hide me. He hates it - I can tell. He wants to go on actual dates or just been seen in public together. He wants to tell the girls that flirt with him to back off because he's taken. But he can't." Y/n sighed.
"And you think I can give him that?" Reggie asked. Y/n looked over, obviously surprised by the tint of humor in Reggie's voice. The bassist found it hilarious that all these things seemed to be a continuation of why Y/n wanted Reggie to give asking Luke out a shot... but then something clicked in his head and his smile dropped dead in exchange for wide eyes that matched Y/n's. "You think he likes me back." It was deadpan, opposite to the torrent of emotion inside of him.
Y/n scoffed. "Well YES, but... Reggie between us, you're the closest he's ever gonna get to a real relationship. The kind he wants, at least."
Reggie wasn't having that though. "Y/n he's head over heels for you. I didn't even think there was any room in that head of his FOR romance until he and Alex went out, and even then... I mean they broke up for a reason. Sometimes I feel like the only reason he-" Reggie snapped his mouth shut, eyes darting away as he realized what he was about to say.
By the look on Y/n's face, he got the feeling eh didn't actually have to say it. Y/n just nodded. "He only wants to be with me because we're soulmates." Reggie shrunk. "It's fine, I think so too. That's why I don't think I would mind if he did date someone else, along with whatever we have. As long as the person he decides to be with is okay with it. I don't know, I really like Luke and I really like us. I just feel like he deserves better sometimes, you know?"
The thing was, Reggie didn't know. He had never seen Luke as happy as he was with Y/n. He had meant that he only thought they had started dating because of the whole soulmates thing - Luke wouldn't still be with Y/n if the boy wasn't important to him. Luke looked at Y/n the same way he looked when he talked about music. But Reggie didn't know how to say that, so what he said instead was, "You matter a lot to him." It was quiet for a second before he added, "I don't think there are many people who make him as happy as you do. Even if you're just... here."
Y/n looked at his hands. "He told me about when he was a kid, and he'd check his body for any mark or name or phrase or anything. He told me about his parents had been missing s color before they met, and how they'd only told him when he was older and could keep a secret, but how they didn't want Luke to run away from potential great love because he turned away from his soulmate like so many do. They filled his head with so many hopes and dreams and... the way he looked at me that night. Without knowing anything about me, he looked at me like I was the reason the stars were in the sky. Sometimes I think that's all it is. That we share this mark, and the universe looked at me and whispered to him, 'that one'. He wouldn't have chosen me otherwise."
"He wouldn't have," Reggie agreed honestly. "But he has now, and I think it would kill him to lose you." Y/n went to argue, but this time it was Reggie who shook his head, cutting off whatever was about to be said. "I'm serious. You two are special. Don't diminish that."
After a second, Y/n's body relaxed and he smiled, nodding. "Thanks Reg." Reggie nodded and then they both looked at Luke, who was wrapping up whatever he was talking about, as Bobby wanted to get back to practicing. "I still think you should ask him out."
Reggie shoved Y/n off the couch at that, and both of their laughter finally brought the attention of Luke, who immediately ended the conversation by coming over and being within ear shot. Which meant Y/n had the last word.
This time.
-
"You're touching it again." Alex's eyes shot up to see Reggie's amused smile. He had gotten into the same habit Luke did; whenever he was nervous, his thumb would reach out to brush over the inked on words on his wrist. "What's bugging you?"
Alex sighed. "I'm just ALWAYS thinking about him, you know? Like I-" His face suddenly went very red. "I don't know, this feel so different to any relationship I've ever had. And maybe that's because the only other person I really dated was Luke, but-" He shrugged.
Understanding completely, Reggie nodded. "I get it. It must be nice, to have that. Do you think he feels the same?"
The blush got worse. "I... yeah." He cleared his throat and Reggie tried not to laugh. "We've been hanging out a lot and he's been answering a lot of questions. It's still not like anything serious - we're still getting to know each other, and we're both letting this take us where we want to go. Like, it's slower than it was with Luke, but faster than Flynn and Julie explained the pace of their relationship."
That made Reggie snort. "To be fair, it took YEARS for those two to do anything about their soulmate stuff."
"Yeah but they met super young," Alex reminded. Reggie nodded - that was a fair point. "Once they talked about what the soulmate thing between them meant, they took like a few months to figure it out. It's been like a week for us and I already feel like I've known him for years." He rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes kept flickering around the studio, and Reggie felt his stomach twist painfully as he realized what Alex was doing.
He was looking for Luke.
The last time they'd discussed soulmates, Julie had asked Luke about Y/n and it had gotten... awkward.
Reggie interlaced his fingers together to stop himself from suddenly scratching the intense itch he felt over that stupid, stupid mark on his chest. He couldn't stop thinking about it, but he refused to give himself away. He'd managed to hide it from his closest friends for an entire year - he wasn't going to trip up now. "Man, I'm happy for you. You deserve this. Not just the soulmate thing, but the way you talk about Willie makes me so happy for you." Reggie grinned despite himself. "I wish I could see you two together more."
Alex loosened up, his own smile growing. "Don't you listen to me talk about him enough without having to see me be an idiot in person?"
Reggie laughed. "You know I would love to see you be HAPPY," he stressed, raising his eyebrows. He always corrected his friends when they dished on themselves. "What you guys have is special."
Alex tilted his head. "You know, I always wondered what it would be like for you to get a soulmate. I bet you'd be even more a disaster than me."
Reggie had to remind himself that he was dead and didn't have a heartbeat, because he was sure he'd had a heart attack when Alex had said that. Once again, the urge to touch that damn mark was strong and he clenched his hands into fists so tightly his knuckles went white. "Yeah I've always wondered too." He cleared his throat. "That won't get you out of talking to me about Willie though. Come on, I have questions!"
The distraction worked... For now. He hoped it would keep working just a little longer.
-
Luke had fallen asleep hours ago, curled up with Y/n on the couch in the studio. His breathing was even and low and soft and it was almost enough to help Reggie go to sleep too. Only almost though, because Reggie was REALLY distracted by the way he looked with his hair falling in his face and his cheeks squished as he lay his head on Y/n's chest. He was even more distracted by the thought of being like that with Luke and feeling guilty because the more he thought about it, the smugger Y/n got and the smugger Y/n got, the more Reggie thought about it. It was a cycle and he was slowly going absolutely insane - the entire time, Y/n wore a knowing smile and barely held back from busting up laughing at him.
It was no different now.
"You're ridiculous," Y/n sighed softly.
"Shut up," Reggie complained, his eyes closing. It wasn't so much an order as it was a whine, and Y/n had to force himself not to giggle. Laughing would move his chest and wake up Luke, and the boy desperately needed sleep.
Y/n sighed. "I don't know why you don't just ask him out." This time Reggie groaned, but still kept it soft as not to disturb Luke. Bobby and Alex had gone home hours ago, and the three of them had stayed to talk, but Luke had fallen asleep so that Y/n was pinned. The problem was he couldn't get comfortable  as he sat in the middle of the couch, leaving him nothing to lean against and fall asleep on. Y/n had invited Reggie to sit next to him and be Y/n's pillow, but the bassist didn't think he could handle that AND Luke without combusting.
Pulling his thoughts away from thinking about Y/n sleeping on him - because for some reason, that was so much harder to deal with than imagining Luke doing it, in the sense that it made his heart want to explode and his head feel fuzzy and his skin tingle and that terrified him in a way he could not explain - Reggie moved his gaze toward the roof before saying, "It wouldn't work out."
There was some shuffling and Reggie looked back to see Y/n very slowly, skillfully maneuvering Luke in a way that didn't wake the brunette as Y/n slipped out from underneath him. Luke complained in the form of sleepy, incoherent mumbles and scrunching up his face for a few seconds, but was otherwise undisturbed. Reggie was astounded. Luke was a light sleeper, so the feat alone was amazing... but also, if Y/n could do that the whole time why hadn't he done it much earlier instead of asking Reggie to join the sleep train?
While he was busy being surprised, Y/n settled in a new spot, next to Reggie. He reached out, his hand cupping Reggie's cheek to gently bring the boys' eyes to a meeting point. Reggie felt his throat clog up and swallowed to force down the lump attempting to choke him. "Reggie," Y/n asked in a soft voice, eyes earnest and wide. "Why don't you think you deserve love?"
Reggie was speechless. How could Y/n have POSSIBLY known that? "I didn't say-"
Y/n shook his head. "You didn't have to. But that's not important. Don't start lying to me now." Y/n was very close and Reggie could not summon a single helpful thought in all of the possible workings of his human mind. He HAD many thoughts, but not a SINGLE one of them included him thinking straight and it was immediately an intense struggle. "Reggie, you are so amazing," Y/n whispered, and the raspy touch in his voice made Reggie die a little bit inside. "You're so kind and warm and soft, like as a person. You feel so much and have so much compassion and care so much about people. I don't know what you think it is that has you so convinced you don't deserve EVERYTHING the world has to offer and more, but I promise you that everyone who matters? Alex, me and Bobby, and YES, even Luke - we all see how incredible you are. Please tell me you can see it too, even just a little bit.
A good swallow finally dislodged the lump in his throat, and Reggie found his voice. "Y/n..." He shook his head, and Y/n's hands fell to his shoulders. "I just feel... different than everyone else. I'm..." He couldn't find words. "It's not that I don't think I deserve happiness. I just feel like I'm not ever going to find it. Not like you and Luke. I don't think that's part of what's going to be in my future. I feel like I'm missing something important sometimes. Something other people just have, and are born with. Like a really key part of a puzzle?" He shrugged, turning his head away.
"Oh Reggie," Y/n whispered in that same soft tone that spoke volumes of softness and fondness. "How could you think you need anything other than what you already have, when what you have is so amazing and special?" Reggie looked over as Y/n's left hand shifted Reggie's collar to touch his skin at the top right of Reggie's chest with his palm. Y/n's fingertips grazed Reggie's neck. "Do you feel that, Reg? Your heart..." Reggie realized why Y/n had moved his shirt - to feel his heartbeat. "You bleed kindness. You have always, I think. From what I've seen, and what I've heard, you're surrounded by hardship and hate and struggle, and somehow you came out of all of it with a heart gushing with love. I don't care what you think you're missing. You have THIS, and that is ALL you need. YOU are enough, Reginald. You are all anyone ever needs."
Reggie felt an... odd sensation. A warmth that spread through his body, from where Y/n touched him. At first he thought it was just that the words had touched him so much, but as the warmth faded, there was something left behind. A tingly buzzing sensation, right where Y/n's palm touched Reggie's chest.
Eyes widening, Y/n moved his hand away. It was only then they both realized it was the same hand he had touched Luke with for the first time. The same hand that had the Rose tattoo. The one that matched the one on Luke's shoulder. The shape that  marked the two boys soulmates. The mark which before had been only one outline of a rose... but was now two roses, crossed over each other. Identical, but facing opposite directions. Their stems curled the same way, the tilt was the same, but they faced opposite directions, ending up crossing each other.
"Oh my god," Y/n whispered. His eyes moved to Reggie's chest, which was still slightly exposed. His eyes went wide, his face draining of color.
A sort of panic suddenly flooding him, Reggie shot to his feet and flew to the bathroom. He tugged down the color of his shirt, looking in the mirror. To his horror, where Y/n's hand had touched his skin was the detailed drawing of a rose without any color. The same mark that had been on Y/n's palm and Luke's shoulder since they had met. Their soulmate mark.
His eyes caught motion and he looked over to see a suddenly shy Y/n in the doorway. "So," the teen edged, tension in his shoulders and hesitation in his eyes. "I guess this means we're soulmates too. How fun is that?"
-
"I guess I failed on that whole not coming back thing." Reggie was sat on the dirt plot in front of Y/n's gravestone again, shaking his head at himself. "I promised last time was my last time. Did the same thing the time before that." Reggie could feel his heart ache and his stomach tie into knots so tight that they gave him a stomach ache. His eyes watered as he looked at the name on the stone, blurring the words as he felt his heart scream in his chest. He put his face in his hands, slowly moving his fingers so they wound into his hair. "I miss you so much." He was crying, his body shaking violently as he tried to hold it in and failed. "God I'm so sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry I ran from you back then. That I pushed you away and ignored you. You were the only person that knew. The only person I could talk to about this."
For a second he cut off, and he really cried. He cried and cried until his throat was sore and his body felt painful from how tight it was wound. He knew the pain wouldn't last. Physical pain never did now that he was a ghost. It didn't change the fact that his very soul ACHED. He felt like he was missing something important. Something irreplaceable. Something precious. And it was all his own fault.
When his voice returned, it was watery and weak. His words were torn and broken with hiccups and stuttering. He was absolutely miserable. "Y-you said- I tried to- and you just-" He pulled on his hair, suddenly ripping his hands away from the strands to angrily wipe at the stupid tears that wouldn't let him talk. He NEEDED to talk. He had to get out what he was feeling and make sense of all of the thoughts in his head.
He had gone through denial the first time he'd come here. He'd thought it was some sort of conclusion. A letting go of the past, to know that Y/n was gone. It was supposed to be an answer to a question. He was supposed to be relieved to know what happened. He was supposed to just find out where Y/n had ended up and then be fine with it. He had even visited the second time only to give a proper goodbye, and that was when it had hit him.
Y/n was gone. He hadn't grown up. He hadn't found happiness. He hadn't experienced a world accepting of him. He hadn't found someone else and been happy and safe like he deserved. The pain that thought brought him was more overwhelming than the realization that Reggie himself had suffered the same fate. More sharp than even Alex or Luke suffering the same fate, because at least the three of them had each other. They had Julie and the band, and they had skipped right to the good parts and missed all the bad parts where people fought tooth and nail for the world they had now. But Y/n had only ever had Sunset Curve. He didn't have anyone else that cared about him. He had died, probably alone and miserable, feeling rejected by the two people he felt for the most, and probably forgotten by the two friends he had. The only four people that had been kind to Y/n in a very long had all shut him out and in his last moments, he had no one to turn to.
The third time Reggie came to visit, the pain had been replaced by guilt. He had spent nights awake thinking about all the times Y/n had begged Reggie to tell Luke about the rose. About Reggie being their soulmate too. Y/n had spent weeks and weeks trying to get them all on the same level. Trying to work it out. But Reggie had rejected him. Had run from him, the same way Reggie had been run from. He hadn't helped when Y/n had needed it as things turned south with Luke. He hadn't helped when Luke had come to him looking for advice after the fight with Y/n. He had told Luke to forget about it, and now Luke hated soulmates and Y/n had died alone and it was all Reggie's fault. If he had just been braver. A better friend. A better soulmate...
His fourth time at the grave, all he felt was anger. Anger at himself. Anger at Luke and Y/n for fighting. Anger at these stupid soulmate marks. Anger at the world that had raised him for seventeen years to hate the best parts of himself. To fear the way he loved, and the people he loved. He was angry at the nightmares and the pain and the worry and the stress that had been so needless. Why couldn't men be in love with each other? Because it wasn't how people had loved each other in public? Because it was new? Because it was different? Why were soulmates so terrible? Well that one he knew. Soulmates had been such taboo then because it was one less thing people could control. One less part of peoples' lives that could be locked down and forced around. A power stronger than any law. An energy that fueled hope. Hope, an emotion stronger than even fear if grown and bolstered. And that's what soulmates did, right? Encouraged people to think differently. See more. Try something new. Soulmates could be two men, or two girls, or a man and a woman. It could be anyone. Soulmates didn't gender code like society wanted them too, so obviously they were evil. Julie had gone off about it one day and you know what she was right! It was bullshit!
It was the fifth time Reggie had come with pleading eyes and begging and pleading. He had sat in front of that stupid gravestone and tried not to cry as he prayed to whoever might be listening. As he talked to thin air. As he picked up fistfuls of dirt and chucked them at the gravestone and demanded a second chance. He had screamed and kicked it and almost fallen on his face when he went through the stone. The fifth time Reggie had lost his mind, and he had spent hours trying to just get the chance to say sorry. To tell Y/n all the things he'd been wanting to tell him for so long. All he wanted was five minutes. Didn't he at least deserve that?!
Now Reggie had no other emotions left. He didn't have denial to lean on, or anger or desperation or anything else. He had used up every emotion he could think of - even jealousy for a while, as he listened to stories about Julie and Flynn or Willie and Alex. He had used one after the other until he was left stripped bare and emptied out. And now as he sat there, he cried and cried until the sadness was gone too and the tears all ran out. And then he just sat there and stared at the grey stone that was always cold and always had Y/n's name on it and offered no help or love or reprieve or condolences or even a little mercy. He looked at the grey stone and he felt a sort of kinship with it. He felt his insides pulse with a dull ache, as if they were sore. It sat there, reminding him consistently that he just felt... hollow. Empty.
Numb.
His fingertips grazed over the words carved to make Y/n's name, and he thought of the time that Y/n had tried to touch Reggie's soulmate mark; something Y/n did to Luke to remind both of them that they were soulmates. He remembered the day Y/n had begged Reggie to realize what they were. To really know it and really FEEL it and Reggie... he had pushed Y/n's hand away and said something he'd regret the rest of his life, and even after that.
How could one hotdog take so much from him in one go?
It wasn't fair.
-
"Reggie..."
Immediately, Reggie felt his body tense. "Where's Luke?" was his reply.
With a careful tone, Y/n answered, "That's what I came to talk to you about." Reggie's body only grew more rigid, but that didn't stop him moving away with ease and much speed when he felt Y/n's fingers graze his shoulder. He had been doing that every single time Y/n touched him since... since... His hand twitched and he almost touched the mark he had been ignoring for weeks, but managed yet again not to. "Reg," Y/n whispered. His voice sounded so frail and weak. So desperate. It was enough to break Reggie down enough that he slowly turned around.
And then immediately regret it.
Y/n looked like he'd been wrung out and hung to dry up in the sun. His skin was a different color than usual, like he felt queasy or was sick. There were bags under his eyes, and a expression on his face that made Reggie's heart burn with a pain he wasn't prepared for. He looked like he had been crying instead of sleeping. "Y/n... what happened to you."
Immediately, Y/n's shoulders sagged. he looked so small and defeated that Reggie drew back even more. The very air around Y/n simmered with pain and ache. "I'm... trying to make this work. This thing with Luke and- and with you-"
"Don't include me in that," Reggie snapped. He hadn't meant it to come out so harsh, but his panic had gotten the better of him and he had sounded angry. Like he was accusing Y/n of something.
Y/n's vulnerability was crushed to dust, and his face hardened and his body began to shake every so slightly. Reggie felt the yelling coming before he could hear it, and immediately his head was full of night spent curled in bed, trying to sleep as he crushed his ears with pillows and blankets and even his own hands to try and make himself stop hearing the shouts down the hall.
Y/n never yelled. He hadn't yelled once.
Hearing him yell now was so terrible that Reggie was stunned into silence for a solid minute.
"GODDAMNIT REGGIE!" He shoot his hate, his face twisted and his hands curled into fists and for a terrible second he thought Y/n was going to hit him. And then he immediately didn't understand why, because Y/n forced his hands opened and the earnest desperation was back and despite his anger he was pleading, and in that moment Reggie realized what he should have known by now: Y/n would never hurt him. Y/n would never hurt ANYBODY. Reggie was the one causing pain, and it was to the softest, kindest person he had ever met. The person who felt more pain than anyone else Reggie knew, and who still refused to let it destroy him. When Y/n spoke again, Reggie felt terrible to hear how raw the words sounded. "I'm trying to make you understand. I- I-" His eyes watered and Reggie felt a part of him shatter. "I lo-"
"Don't you dare say it." It came out as a plead, soft and wet and corrupted by a primal fear that made Reggie feel sick to his stomach to hear.
Whatever Y/n had heard in those words, it had taken something vital from him. His face went slack and tears fell down his face. Slowly, one at a time. He just looked at Reggie like he'd been slapped, and Reggie wanted to run away but he was frozen in place. "Do you just not like me back? Is it just about Luke? Do you only-?"
"I don't like Luke," Reggie demanded, finding strength in his voice again.
"Yes you do!" Y/n insisted. "I KNOW you do Reggie! I know you do because I see the way your hands twitch when Luke is near you, like you're dying to touch him. I see the way you look at him when you think no one is paying attention. I know he keeps you awake on the nights you can't sleep, and I know he's been as close to home as you could get for years because you go to him every single time you're upset or lonely or unsure. You seek comfort in him when you're hurting and you look to him for direction when you're lost."
"Stop it," Reggie whispered, his fingers curling into claws, nails digging at his skin even through his jeans.
Y/n just kept going. "And I know he feels the same about you because he says your name like it's the most beautiful word he's ever said, and he touches you like it brings him peace, and he talks about you like your his favorite song, and he's driven so intensely to be close to you like you're a fire and he's freezing. I see the way he looks at you and if I had a penny for every time he mentioned your name when the two of us were hanging out alone, I wouldn't be-"
"STOP IT!" His hands flew up to cover his ears... but for some reason Y/n cringed away from him. It felt like a punch to the gut to realize that Y/n had the same reaction as Reggie's had earlier. Y/n had, for some reason, thought Reggie was going to hit him. A look of guilt crossed Y/n's face and Reggie knew exactly what he was thinking. Reggie would never do something like that.
Whatever Reggie had, Y/n had it too, and that somehow made it so much worse.
For a second, they just sat there in silence. But then Reggie lowered his hands, very slowly, and Y/n spoke. "Is it because of me? What I was before you guys met me? What I did?"
Reggie didn't have to ask what Y/n meant. He knew full well how Luke and Y/n had met, and what it had meant. He knew that Y/n was touchy about this topic. He knew that  it was something that Y/n had stressed about for a long time until he'd learned that Luke didn't really care or think about that stuff. How much it had been a relief for Y/n to get away from a life full of people and relationships that only wanted one thing from him. How nice it had been for him to get a break from meaningless interactions and one night stands and phone numbers he never bothered to keep.
Reggie also knew this had NOTHING to do with that. Reggie didn't care about Y/n's past, or how other people saw him. He knew better. He knew Y/n had a person. However, upon being given any other reason than the truth, Reggie's instinct was to take it and run. However, he knew this was worth than the truth. And for a split second he had to switch gears from accepting the excuse to dismissing it. He had to take just a fraction of a second to shut that down in his head, despite what his first thought had been.
It created a moment of hesitation.
A moment Y/n took as an answer.
Even when Reggie finally stuttered out an, "Of course not!" Reggie knew it was too late. Y/n stepped away from him, his face crumbling. The air had been knocked out of Reggie's body as he scrambled for something to say. "It's not Y/n I swear."
Y/n looked him dead in the eye. "Then what is it?" Reggie's mouth snapped shut. "Please Reggie, give me one other reason that makes sense. Tell me that it's not that you see me the same way everyone else does. That you're not just a little bit disgusted with me, and that's why you HATE the idea that we're soulmates. Tell me why it makes you so angry to think of being with Luke, when you're so obviously into him, if it's not because not even a little part of you think he's tainted because he's been with me even if it's not... like THAT."
Reggie did the worst thing he could have ever done.
He stayed silent.
He was too petrified to give Y/n the answer that could fix all of this. The answer that could clear the air. Maybe Y/n could help. Maybe they could make everything better. Maybe...
Whatever he'd been thinking it didn't matter, because the words didn't come out of his mouth and then the door to the studio opened and Luke was standing there, looking between them with eyes full of concern and confusion as the poor boy watched the two most important people in his life argue. Y/n went to leave, grabbing his bag as he made his way out of the studio, and Reggie let him walk away thinking something so damaging and wrong. Something that would ruin everything - all because Reggie was a coward.
-
"Mommy! Mommy! The angel helped me!" Reggie didn't even process it properly. It wasn't important. It didn't pertain to him. Why would he make note of it?
How wrong he was thinking that.
His mind was so focused on Bobby who was now Trevor, who had stolen their music. Who had stolen everything closest to Luke and hurt the man Reggie would anything for. Reggie was on a war path. He couldn't think about anything else until he heard Luke distinctly whisper in the softest, shakiest voice, "Y/n?"
Reggie's head whipped around to look at Luke, only for the action to repeat again as he quickly followed Luke's gaze to see....
Unable to help himself, Reggie gasped.
There was Y/n, in the exact same condition he'd been in the night he'd stormed out after arguing for Luke. That night was branded in Reggie's mind - he was sure Y/n was even wearing the same outfit. No... Y/n had never worn white while he was alive. Why was he decked head to toe in white?
The angel helped me! That was what the little girl had said. Had she been talking about Y/n? He saw the little girl, being pulled along by her mother, and that was when Reggie realized the child could SEE Y/n. In surprise, Reggie looked back at Y/n, and as if feeling his eyes, Y/n looked back at the same time. His eyes shot a mile wide, filling with even more hurt than had already been there just looking at Luke, who Reggie realized had been the target of his sad gaze before it had landed on him. The second their eyes met, Y/n was gone, disappearing in the same flash that he had seen Alex and Luke disappear in when they disappeared.
Luke fell to the knees, and Reggie felt the world crumble down with him.
184 notes · View notes
bread0nhead · 3 years
Note
Hi sunshine,
I wanted to ask you if you could write a levi x child reader scenario schreiben könntest. Maybe the child is searching for their parents but see's levi and follows him around or makes him some compliments and stares with big eyes to him and a smile.. do you know that when children grab the sleeve of someone?
Basically levi helping the child to their parents and the child being a levi fan (child doesent know who levi is) :)
Thaaaaank youuuu
Sonnenschein
Hi, anon!!! Thank you for the request!!! Hope you had a wonderful weekend, and you’re happy, healthy and safe!
Please like 👍🏻 reblog 🔁 and follow ❤️
*currently unedited
Rating: E
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The summer heat pressured down on everyone. The air smelt like dust to the point you could taste it. The roads were filled with people as everyone gathered to welcome to scouts back from a recent retreat. Everyone was so closely packed that if one was to look down, they wouldn’t be able to see their own feet.
The gates came down and the sound of hooves and a roaring crowd came alive. Everyone returned alive, which is a rare victory for the survey corps. People started to cluster closer in trying to reach their hands out to the soldiers. The wave of human bodies was become difficult for someone of your small stature to stay safe in. Considering all you could really see was knees, it’s no wonder no one saw you as they pushed and shoved. You put your arms up to shield your face, which took away the safety of holding onto your mother’s dress.
Erwin started to speak to the crowd further up the road, causing the people to migrate in his direction. When you peaked out from behind your hands, you realized you were all alone. The sudden grasp of your situation had you chewing on your bottom lip and turning your mind foggy. You stood in the middle of the new empty street turning in every direction to try to find something of familiarity. The more you looks, the more scared you became. The world is so much bigger than you, even behind these walls. Tears started to prickle in the lids of your eyes while your lips quivered. Your little hands turned into firsts as they whipped the tears away.
“Hey brat.”
A voice called out to you, making you focus away from your crying to the person addressing you. From behind the blurry curtain of tears, you saw a familiar black haired adult in a green cloak sitting on top of a brown horse. Uncontrollable wailing bursted through like a mid slide as if it was your body’s natural way of saying ‘help me’.
Levi cringed at the horrid sound, he couldn’t help but think of how similar it is to the weird squawking titans will sometimes make. Levi hooked one leg around and jumped down from his steed. He walked close to you, kneeling down to match your height. The feeling of his hand ruffling your hair made you hiccup and helped the crying to become more bareable. You stared at Levi’s comforting smile, something you did not know was so rare, you stared as if you found a new toy or watched fireworks bursting in the night sky. You were in awe.
“Do you know where your parents are?”
You shook your head frantically at Levi. The reminder you are lost made your eyes flood up with new tears again. You latched into Levi’s neck while your snot and salty tears soaked into his clock. Internally Levi was screaming how repulsive this was- but knew it was no time to show that. Levi took your hand as he stood up.
“Well, let’s find them together. But you have to make a deal with me.”
You tilted your head and a single finger touched your chin as you pondered what he meant. You nodded his head in agreement, prompting him to continue.
“You have to brave. No crying or screaming- were in a scout mission after all! We’re on a mission to locate your parents.”
Your eyes and smile beamed up, clearing away any signs of fear. You nodded your head again; this time with more energy. Levi gripped your hand tighter while his other hand lead his horse.
Levi doesn’t like nor dislike kids. In reality, he just never gave them much thought. He will admit to himself that they are fun and cute, but they are also horribly messy and loud. When he looked down at you, noticing your little chubby cheeks, how unnaturally soft your hands are, and how big your eyes can get. He definitely thinks your one of the cutest kids he’s seen. He thinks about how worried your parents must be, he wonders if they are also looking for you. Seeing you scared and alone brings back dark memories of his childhood. He understands how you must be feeling right now.
“You’re Captain Levi, right?”
Levi replied with a simple hum.
“My big sister has a huge crush on you!” You spread out your arms as wide as you can for a dramatic visual representation. “She’s become a ca...ca...”
“Cadet.”
“Cadet! She’s training to become a cadet!”
Levi smiled at how excited you got talking about your sister. You continued on with stories of your sister and slipping in stories of your mother too. It was clear how much love you have for them.
“Are titans scary? I worry about my sister sometimes... I get scared they will eat her! I watched my doggy eat at squirrel once... it wasn’t pretty.”
“Titans are scary- but I’m scarier. And don’t think about that stuff, it doesn’t help anyone.”
“My papa was eaten by a titan. When they attacked last year. He was a Garrison person!”
Levi’s face fell as he realized he didn’t know what to say.
“I realized, I don’t know your name...”
“Y/N!!!”
“SISTER!!!”
Levi was thrown off guard by the sudden pulling of his hand and you dragged him with all your little kid power. Which he was actually pretty surprised by. When you both are in reaching distance of your sister, you rip your hand away running into your sisters arms.
“Oh my gosh... you had momma and I so worried! I am so sorry we lost you!”
You felt your sister cry and shake as she squeezed onto you. She looked over you frantically, assessing you for any wounds or signs of trouble.
“Stooppp! I’m okay! Captain Levi of the...the... survey ready-mint!”
“Survey Regiment.”
Levi corrected as he watched you still being latched on by your sister. When your sister let go, Levi was taken back by the beauty of your sister. How much older she is than you. She had your same hair and eye color.
“I told him about your crush!”
“Oh my god! Okay! Time to go home!”
Levi chucked as the teasing you gave your sister.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N.... as well as you...?”
“(Sisters name)”
Your sister answered with a blushing smile.
“Ooooooooooo!!”
“Yup! That’s it! Well, thank you so much for helping my little sister. Honestly, I would have been lost without her. So, thank you...again.”
Levi waved at you walked away holding your sisters hand. You turned around giving a big smile and fast goodbye gesture.
“Come by our tea shop sometime!!!”
You yelled giving your final wave goodbye. Levi watched as you and your sister walked away into the golden and pink sunshine. It felt good to have a mission that wasn’t his norm, he felt warm and happy thinking of the good he did today.
/END
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mrvdocks · 4 years
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Nightcall P.1
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Request/Summary: Kurt is obsessive over a model and kidnaps her, taking her along for the ride of the night. 
After
The flurry of phones ringing off the hook and background noise felt foreign to you, it was just a buzzing in your ear. You pulled the safety blanket around you closer, grabbing it in fistfuls. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, but it feels like hours. The fluorescent in the room probably only made you look even worse for wear than you were hours before, but it didn’t matter now. In a span of 24 hours, your life had changed. 
The guarded door opened and an officer pulled up a chair in front of you, dropping photos of the gruesome scene you’d seen firsthand. She slides the photos closer, her thumb obscuring the killer’s face. You didn’t need to see it a second time.
“You were found in the residence of Mr. Kunkle, with one Jessie Adams and a John Doe, who seems to have been the victim of Mr. Kunkle’s spree amongst others.”
Even his name brings chills down your spine. 
“I already told the police everything.” You say groggily, your throat still sore from the whole ordeal.
“Yes, but there seems to be some doubt on your partnership with Mr. Kunkle. Footage, eyewitness accounts,” she’s studying you no doubt. Any sort of tick or movement you made without thought that could somehow lead her to think you were lying about anything you had explained earlier. 
“What was your relationship with Mr. Kunkle?” She pries, bringing multiple photos of Kurt to be splayed out in front of you. Some good, some bad, some….disturbing. 
“I - none. He just knew me through the socials.” 
“And you were also the target of his mania.” There’s something unsettling in how much she’s liking interrogating you. You ignore it. 
“You think it’s my fault he did this.” 
It was not your fault. None of this was. Kurt was just too power hungry. Maybe you were too trusting. You didn’t want to see Kurt for what he really was until it was too late. 
“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but your compliance does seem suspicious.”
“I-I didn’t know him very well. He was just my Spree driver for a day. But he was always nice to me.”
“He was also your kidnapper.”
“Like I said, he was a nice guy.” Your voice breaks. 
They’re all nice guys until they aren’t. 
“And you didn’t think to call the authorities when you were alone? Were you helping him lure these people?”
You can feel her eyes burning into you. 
“I’m not stupid,” you cry. “I know how this sounds. But I’m telling you, he gave me a ride and then he - all of this. Oh God.” 
You bring your shaky hands to run through your worn and tired face, specks of dried blood still prominent even through many washes with soap. It’s another way Kurt managed to stay with you. 
“Let’s start at the beginning,” she sits back with her arms folded. “And spare no detail.”
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Before
He scrolls through your feed for the millionth time today.
Photos of you on your daily walks, exploring hidden LA gems, posting places you were shooting at, people you were hanging out with, all at the touch of a button for him. The bell notification alerts him, telling him that you’ve posted. He taps the screen in the blink of an eye, meeting your face as you giggle about falling while skating. 
You pout as you show the damage, remarking that it was lucky you weren’t shooting that day otherwise you would’ve had to cover up on such a hot day. 
In a vain industry, you try to keep yourself humble and that’s what he loves about you. Though he’s never met you, he thinks you could live up to the image he’s created of you. One that matches your optimistic and humorous one. 
He re watches your story, pausing at random moments where he screenshots and saves to his photos. His home screen is a shot of you in black and white, seemingly topless from chest down and looking back with an enticing smile. He loves the way your hair frames your face, the way pieces of it were meticulously picked out to give it a sort of messy look.
You could make anything look good, he thinks.
Bobby gives him a hard time about you, bragging about how he knows you and that although you’re more well known than he is, you are the one who should be grateful for his exposure.
Kurt thinks it’s bullshit but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, maybe you’d come around to meet him one day.
The vibration of a text brings him out of his daze, seeing Bobby’s name in big bold letters. 
He can’t believe his eyes when he opens the text. It’s an off guard video of you behind Bobby, giggling at something on your phone before noticing that he’s recording and flashing a cheeky smile and a peace sign.
“Found your girlfriend.” Bobby mocks before erupting into hysterical laughter.
Kurt replays it until his phone dies, Bobby’s words echoing in his head.
An idea pops into his head, it would be difficult if he didn’t know your exact routine but thanks to your fan accounts and the power of gossip blogs, it’s a definite success. 
He calls Bobby immediately, hearing him and his entourage in the background as they talked about a video idea. 
“What do you want, Kurt? I’m busy right now.” His annoyance is clear but Kurt is way too focused on you to notice.
“I need a favor.”
It’s amazing what the internet contains about a person. It’s also quite terrifying. Through just a few minutes of research, he’s found out your schedule along with where you went to school, where you live and your closest friends. 
In a photo Bobby had taken, the location of the next shoot you had taking place somewhere was barely visible.
He connects the dots, thinking about how your involvement could help him get  #TheLesson out and make him a household name. 
And it’s exactly what he does the day of. He parks near your neighborhood, foot bouncing and anxiously looking at his phone. He declines the others in hopes of finding you according to the schedule. You almost never use your real name on anything when going out but he recognizes your fake name and location, he puts the car into drive and talks himself up. 
He parks across the street, giving him a better view of you.  
His heart skitters when he sees you look in his direction, your brows quirk up as you give him an easy smile and cross carefully. 
You stop and bend to meet him at the passenger window, “Kurt, right?”
His name coming out of your mouth is something he’s dreamed of since he first saw you. He almost pinches himself to know if this is real. 
He knows he’s grinning like an idiot because you laugh at his speechlessness. 
“Sorry,” he motions to the backseat, “Hop in!” 
“I take it you know who I am.” 
You’re not oblivious to your recognition, but with some guys it was just always a hit or miss. They either wanted you to take your top off or asked for some weird things.
“Are you kidding? I’m like your biggest fan.” He beams, going back on the road. 
You’re not good at accepting compliments, so all you can manage is a shy smile and a, “Thanks!”
You notice his set up of cameras and ask him about it, to which he says they’re just for protection. Throughout the ride you learn more about him, particularly that he was going something the next day called The Lesson. He had a very particular view about this digital world you both lived in, talking about these odd jobs he’d been doing along with trying to build up his following. In between talking about himself, he mentions Bobby and the events of last night from the video. 
“Oh right, Bobby.” You roll your eyes at the mention of his name. 
Bobby was a pain in your ass sometimes, acting all high and mighty all the time and just like he was the overall shit. 
“Yeah he’s alright. He could just tone it down a little.”
“Oh yeah - definitely, he was the same when he was a kid. Just pure chaotic energy.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
In between other conversations, Kurt brought back the spotlight to you, asking you about different people you hung out with. It was pleasant conversation, you felt like you were talking to an old friend and letting off some steam. The red flags hadn’t gone off just yet. 
To let loose and make you live a little, Kurt races past a red light and nearly misses being in a collision. 
It startles you but he assures you there’s no danger. 
“You trust me right?” He asks, glancing back to you.
“I mean, yeah.” 
The confirmation is validation to him. It’s all he needed to begin.
He picks up another passenger, an older man who definitely did not hide the way he was staring at your body. You’re thankful for sitting a little father from him but when Kurt initiates conversation with him, everything goes downhill.
“I know you from somewhere.” The man points out, his obvious staring makes you cringe as you stay silent.
“You’re that model, I’ve seen your stuff around Westwood. Bangin’ body.”
You can feel the anger in your chest rise as Kurt finally notices.
“What’s going on?” He glances to the back, meeting your shifting eyes.
The man ignores him. “Sweetheart when someone compliments you, the nice thing to do is smile.”
That did it.
“Excuse me? I don’t owe you shit!” You grit.
“Whoa! Whoa! Sir you can’t be saying that anymore.” Kurt changes lanes, ready to stop if the situation gets worse.
“She should be proud she doesn’t look like her people. All of ‘em just fat and lazy.”
“Excuse me?! My people?” You’re sure you don’t look the least bit intimidating but it doesn’t matter. You were willing to kick this man’s ass if need be.
Kurt pulls off the the side of the road, “Alright, get out.” 
“What? No, I paid for this ride fair and square. I’m not leaving for shit. I can say what I want.” He says adamantly.
“Sir if you make those comments again I’m going to have to cancel the Spree.”
Something clicks in Kurt’s head as he remembers the water bottles. 
He motions for you to take the passenger seat which you do without much hesitation. 
Kurt waits a minute before merging again, glancing at the man every so often and taking more desolate streets. You don’t notice the absence of cars and you definitely don’t notice when the man takes a bottle and practically chugs it. 
Kurt smirks as he slows down. “Hey maybe you should let them know you’re not going to make it.”
Confused, you glance at Kurt and then at the man who’s now starting to grab at his throat and coughing violently.  
Your eyes widen as you attempt to get Kurt to stop the car but he doesn’t move, instead he keeps his eyes trained on the road.
“Kurt, stop the car.”
The man’s coughs get worse by the second and he turns a very bright red. 
“Kurt! Stop the car!” 
You’re frozen, helpless to watch the man as he tries to grab at Kurt from behind but coughs up blood and passes out in the backseat. You slink back in your seat, utterly terrified of what just happened. 
Adrenaline and fear course through you. You side eye Kurt who is not as affected by this as you are as he merely readjusts his camera. 
You begin to hyperventilate and try the passenger door. When it doesn’t budge you shut your eyes and cry.
“I won’t say anything. I won’t I promise. I promise, Kurt. Please.”
Kurt sighs as he retrieves a piece of cloth from his pocket. Your eyes widen as he comes close and pins you in your seat and smothers you with the cloth. You struggle under him, pushing against his chest to no avail. 
The smell of the chloroform inundates your senses and in a matter of seconds you feel your eyes roll back and everything go black. 
Once you’re knocked out, Kurt takes both your phone and the other passengers to knock suspicion off of him. He has plans for the racist prick in the back, but for you, he has much bigger plans.
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Text
Tell Me You Hate Me
Summary:   Story contains some intense intrusive thoughts, please mind the tags. Remus always has episodes where his emotions seem to completely shut down, leaving nothing but thoughts pounding in his skull begging for a reaction. When he finally breaks down, Logan is there to hold him together.
Warnings: intrusive thought, implied self bruising, depictions of violence and death, hurt with comfort, mild swearing
Ships: Logan x Remus, Intrulogical
WC: 3, 602
General Taglist: (ask to be tagged generally or in specific writing.) @im-an-anxious-wreck
Remus huffed as he flopped over to his other side yet again, kicking his feet out from underneath them and burying his face into his pillow. Finding it still too hot he quickly picked his head up and flipped the pillow to the cooler side, flopping face first this time as he fought to quiet his groan. Squeezing his eyes shut tight did nothing unfortunately and neither did leaving indents in his palms from his fingernails. Flopping over onto his back he tried taking deep, calming breaths- something Virgil had said sometimes helped them sleep- but he gave up after a few minutes. Shadows from the corners of his room licked at the edge of the safety of his bed and a spike of anxiety in his chest forced his feet back under the covers. A stupid false sense of security that died along with the anxiety as quickly as it had made itself known. The dull buzz of his fan did nothing to drown the ringing in his ears and he wiggled a bit to get the sheets unstuck from his back as his newest position began to get uncomfortable.
He closed his eyes again and sighed deeply before throwing the blankets to the floor and hurrying to the light switch to flick it on. Eyes still shut he stumbled into the hallway running his hand along the wall for a sense of direction wanting nothing more but a spike of caffeine to jump start the day. He left the kitchen light off since he didn't actually know how early it was and didn't want to wake Logan, instead holding his hand out and shuffling forward until his toe stubbed the bottom of the cabinets. Swearing he placed his hands on the counter and felt around until he found the coffee pot, finally deciding to open his eyes to the dim room so he didn't end up smashing the pot and getting glass in his feet...again. Filling it with water and grounds was simple enough, the routine so ingrained he had to force himself to actually concentrate on the action instead of drifting off into his own head again.
Briefly he thought about wedging his head under the spout and letting the freshly brewed coffee flow down his throat but he decided he liked the new creamer they had gotten too much to attempt that this time. Idly picking at his fingertips while he waited he glanced out the window of the shared apartment and wondered how hard it would be to climb down the building from there. Realistically he could do it- just squat in the sink and back up as carefully as he could to find footholds and balance. The thought of neighbors seeing a random ass sticking out of a window, wiggling as he got into a better position brought a flicker of a grin to his face, but the thought of then someone calling the police to report a break-in and the subsequential argument hed most likely have with Logan over his reasoning it had seemed like a good idea made him dismiss the thought immediately. Things were already on the rockier side with his husband, he didn't need something else making him regret he had ever proposed to Remus.
Things weren't at all bad in their marriage, new as it was and with as small of a space they shared. Remus just went through moods- quiet ones where he was mostly lost in his head and didn't want to make things tense by finding his way out of it. Moods where everything was exhausting, even engaging in activities with someone he loved more than anything else in the world seemed dull and tiring. He'd never tell Logan that, never even think about hurting him that badly, but sometimes he got so tired it was all he could do to get out of bed. And now his emotions were broken again and that certainly didn't help anything.
It didn't happen often, but every once in a while for whatever reason his brain had thought of, he couldn't feel anything. Not even sadness. Smiles were hard, crying was harder, brief spikes of anxiety died before he could think about them and anger or irritation which he usually relied on in these states were so far away he couldn't even think of what to do to make them appear. His world was dull and heavy and numb, pressing in from all sides in a way that would have been overwhelming if he could care to put any name to it. Instead he grew quiet, filing away thoughts and feelings to deal with when he could actually grasp them. Logan noticed; of course he did he noticed everything. Usually all Remus really needed was space and a little time to get his bearings. He would stay in bed a lot, even if he didn't manage to sleep, and watch youtube videos at random for hours on end until Logan came in with water or food or a reminder to get up and stretch. Remus would get up stiffly and stretch for a moment, maybe go to the bathroom, eat, drink and then go right back to curl as tight as he could under the blankets to blankly stare at the screen. He'd hear a soft sigh and feel fingers run gently through his tangled hair before the door would shut once again and he'd be left alone to his nothing and cold and numb and thoughts.
The thoughts were the worst even if he didn’t attach anything to them. Constant and intrusive and violent as they were they didn't even make him afraid anymore. It often seemed, in whatever fucked up process his brain had made up, that if his emotions shut down the intrusive thoughts needed to step up to compensate. Usually nothing more than a suggestive buzz in the background he had long ago learned to simply brush off they became a battering ram against the inside of his skull that he had to actively reason his way through to stop the twitch in his muscles. Boiling water for tea became sticking his hands in his pocket so he didn't stick it in the pan to watch burn and stick to the bottom, flesh pulling like hot cheese until it snapped away from his muscles and left his blood to be boiled by the heat. The want to tip his chair back became his teeth frigging as a graphic image of his head cracked open like an egg and leaking through the carpet presented itself to him like a proud child with macaroni art. A constant barrage of images and impulses that left him exhausted rather than disturbed and made him simply want to sleep them all away, which of course was when the insomnia kicked in and left him making coffee at- his eyes snapped to the oven clock and he sighed tiredly- 4:30 on the morning.
Thanking whatever gods were real it was a Saturday morning he brought down a mug and filled it with coffee and an obscene amount of creamer, chugging it in seconds and ignoring the sickly sweet taste before getting a refill and shambling to the couch to turn on the news. The news always had something going on lately and he was hoping it would be enough to distract from the thoughts of smashing his head through the glass coffee table or making another pot of coffee to chug through. Granted the latter was the better option of the two should he make it a choice but he knew his limit with caffeine and wasn't keen on his heart thumping in his chest throughout the day when he had no energy to do anything with the fake adrenaline rush.
"Remus?" The man winced as he heard Logan's sleepy voice in the hallway and turned to see him walking to the couch, face pinched in concern. "Are you alright? It's nearly five in the morning."
Running his dry tongue over even drier lips Remus nodded. "I uh- I was gonna go on a run today. Get out of the house you know- and I thought an early start might be good."
Logan studied his face carefully, though thankfully not seeming to notice the deep bruises under his eyes in the shifting light of the tv. Remus offered a weak smile and gripped his mug tighter, firmly dismissing the thought to smash it over Logan's head while Logan stepped back and nodded tiredly.
"I'm going to sleep for a bit longer. Please be careful Remus, I love you."
"Love you too, Logan." Remus turned away before he could see any more puty in Logan's eyes, anger licking up from his stomach but he simply clutched his mug to dissipate it before it could take hold, not that it really could. He listened as the footsteps died and the others door was shut, bringing the mug up and chugging the rest of it. Groaning slightly he realized he'd actually have to go out now, he couldn't lie to Logan anymore than he already had. Screwing his mouth to one side he decided biking would be easier. More chances to simply coast and he could wear his headphones without risk of his phone bouncing out of his pocket. Figuring he may as well go now rather than wait, since if he did he was sure he'd simply go back to curl up in bed, he quickly tidied up the kitchen and went to throw some clothes and a helmet on. Tugging his bike out of the hall closet he found himself on the street without quite remembering how he'd gotten there but in the end he supposed it didn't matter. This early in the morning there was virtually no one on the sidewalks giving him ample space to go as fast as he wanted down the hill. Hed ride back up the hill on his way back so he'd get some actual exercise to make up for just coasting for about a quarter mile later.
The wind was on his face before he even registered he had started heartbeat picking up slightly as the buildings on his right began to whip past faster and faster. He contemplated breaking a bit to slow down but his thoughts suddenly demanding he do a hard break, making him flip over the handlebars and skid into the road made him dismiss it quickly. Hed slow down eventually and he was fine for now. The streets were quiet and dark, the air was cool but the wind was so cold it felt like needles against his face. He probably should have worn at least a jacket from the way his arms were going numb but dismissing it was so much easier than thinking about how tiring it would be to turn around, go all the way back to his building, back up the stairs and into his room to get a jacket and gloves- and by that time he'd just went to stay in bed anyway since that would be closer so there really wasn't any point. The fold felt nice, it as waking him up along with the coffee and his heart was thumping loudly in his ears drowning out any thoughts that might slip through and his hands were gripping the handle bars so tight his cold knuckles were a stark white-
Instinct swerved his bike and slammed the breaks before he even noticed the truck speeding down the road. The driver didn't even acknowledge him as his hands slipped off the handle bars and his vision grew spotty. The sudden panic felt distant, dull and unimportant even as his breathing sped up and a thought rose up that told him he could have died: images of his cold body splayed in front of a sideways truck slammed it's way through to the front of his mind, blood pooled around the driver’s feet as his panicked voice called for help. Distantly Logan's screams could be heard as footsteps ran to his unresponsive body and everything was simply white and static and cold. The sound of another car's horn snapped him back to himself suddenly, looking around in confusion as he saw how light it had gotten and the quiet streets now coming to life with people Getting off night shift or waking up for their morning shift or running to coffee shops. His sweat soaked hands were nearly frozen on the handlebars and when he tried moving his legs he felt like he was trying to tread through a thick vat of glue that threatened to pull him down and under the second he decided to stop fighting. 
As much as he wanted nothing more than to collapse and hope something on his bike punctured a lung on the way down though he simply turned and started back up the hill towards home. He didn’t know how long he had been standing on the sidewalk but he judged it to have been an hour at least with how bright  the sky was now. Hopefully Lgan hadn’t worried too much, the thought bringing a wave of guilt that nearly drove him to his knees with the fierceness with which it crashed onto him but just like with everything else it disappeared almost as quickly as it decided to present itself and Remus was left to simply stare blankly at the concrete before him as his stiff legs took him to Logan step by mind numbing step. He just had to make it to Logan. Logan would know what to do, what to say; Remus knew all he ever had to do was ask. Logan was getting better at asking whenever he needed help so the least Remus could do was show that same courtesy.
 But then- what if he didn’t understand? What if he couldn’t? What if he thought Remus was just crazy or having a mental break or because he couldn’t feel things sometimes Logan thought that meant he didn’t love him anymore? What if he decided to leave? What if he left and Remus was alone with only his thoughts and the cold and-
“Remus?” He snapped his head up at Logan’s voice, a quick brush of panic curling around him as he saw that he was back in the apartment with again no recollection of walking the rest of the way up the block and up the stairs and through the door. Logan was looking at him, that same pitying concern wrinkling his face as he stood in front of Remus with a mug of black coffee held tightly in one hand while the other reached out to him gently. And Remus, with the overwhelming feeling of nothing, nothing, nothing and still frantically beating heart with wild eyes full of tears that hadn’t fallen in a week, couldn’t think of what to say to make anything better for either of them. So he did what he did best.
“Tell me you hate me.” The words blurted out with his characteristic impulsiveness as Logan’s eyes blew wide and he only briefly registered his own surprise before the world turned gray again. Of course, the most painful thing for him to hear is what he wanted. No amount of horror movie jump scares or gore, of late night metal blasting at full volume through his ears, pf slamming his fists repeatedly into his thighs until he could barely walk the next day would be as painful as having someone he had cared about more than anyone else for six years now telling him that they hated him. That they couldn’t stand him because he was useless and unfeeling and so, so stupid to even think someone like them could love someone like him. He needed to hear the words he knew Logan was probably itching for permission to say, and now that he had it he could go all out, and maybe then something could get through his constant swirl of thoughts.
“Please I can’t- I’m so numb Logan. I haven’t felt anything in a week I just need- this is your chance to lay it all out.” Logan considered  him carefully before reaching ver and setting his coffee down on the counter and stepping towards him. Gently, so gently it almost hurt, Logan took both of his hands and tugged, walking backward and around until he could sit them both down on the couch. Squeezing his hands slightly he took them away only to place them gently on with side of Remus’ face and hold him as if he was made of fragile porcelain, thumbs caressing his cheekbones in a steady rhythm that had his heart finally calming down and body relaxing into the touch.
“I love you.”
Remus’ breath caught as he locked eyes with his husband, who was simply smiling gently as him with the same loving look he had been giving him for years. Pressure built behind his eyes suddenly and he widened them to keep it at bay, shaking his head in defiance.
“You are safe. Whatever you’re feeling or not feeling is perfectly alright. You are with your husband who cares for you very much in the apartment we’ve shared for four years. You haven’t been sleeping well which may be contributing to your mental distress but that’s okay too because we can work on fixing that. I could never tell you that I hate you.  Love you more than anything, Remus.”
Remus wasn’t sure why that’s what finally broke him, but the flood of emotions that crashed over him barely gave him time to breath before he gasped out a sob and smashed his face into Logan’s chest. Steady arms wrapped around him in a tight, comforting embrace as his legs were brought over his lap, essentially making Logan cardle him like a child but Remus couldn’t bring himself to care as he gasped and shuddered out weeks worth of pent up emotions that he was just now able to feel and it was too much, too much, too much all at once. His hands came up too fist in Logan’s shirt and snot ran freely down his face and his throat began to ache form the noises desperately escaping his throat. This was too much at once, he couldn’t handle this much at once.
But all the way through it Logan rocked them back and forth, hugging him tightly and whispering how much he was loved and cared for and how much better his life was with Remus in it even if he did leave the cabinet doors open and hog the blankets when they shared a bed. Careful fingers carded through his hair as he was told that it was okay to cry, it was okay to not feel anything or to feel everything and Logan would be there regardless. Logan would be there for him through everything Remus needed as long as Remus needed him for. The rocking and whispering didn’t stop until Remus pulled away, a little ashamed and embarrassed with snot covering his face and hiccups preventing him from saying anything but it was okay because Logan only smiled as him and laid a hand on his cheek before getting up and telling him He’d be right back.
It was only a few seconds before he was back with a cool washcloth pressed to his face, carefully wiping his sore, red eyes and rubbing gently as his cheeks and nose. It ws cool and refreshing and instantly Remus felt better than he had in weeks. His wild curls were brushed out of his face and a kiss was pressed to his forehead before Logan made to leave again, making Remus let out a pathetic whine in protest.
“I’m only going to the kitchen to get you water, Remus. Did you want to come with me?”
As ridiculous as it was, he did. So he slipped his hand into Logan’s and followed him out to the small kitchen, watching as he awkwardly poured a glass of water from the fridge one handed and passed it to Remus who downed it in five seconds and handed it back sheepishly. Receiving only an encouraging smile in return the glass was filled once again before he was tugged back into the living room and sat down on the couch. Logan turned to him and squeezed his hand gently. Always so gently and lovingly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Remus knew they would have to eventually but he was so tired. Not the kind of tired he had been where everything was exhausting and irritating and just on the side of too much, but the kind of bone tired you can only be after having an emotional breakdown in your husband's arms at eight o’clock in the morning after only getting two hours of sleep the night before. So he shook his head, hoping against all odds Logan could read minds and understand.
To Logan’s credit he picked up that it was something best addressed at a later time, simply nodding again and reaching for the remote. “How about a movie instead then? As a distraction?”
Smiling a tired but genuine smile, Remus nodded and curled up into Logan’s side, eyes slipping shut before he could even see what Logan had picked. But that was fine. The volume was low and Logan’s arm came to wrap around Remus’ shoulder as he drifted off peacefully. He was safe and loved and right now, that was all that mattered.
 I promise I write happy things sometimes XD As always, this work is available with other on AO3!
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