#i'm a simple woman i see 'first time' and 'sharing a bed' and i click | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

man11c · 1 year

Text

Xavier x reader - Maybe a few more lessons.

Plot - During second term, you join Nevermore academy. One of the first things you do is join the archery club, and from there you get to know Xavier Thorpe. At first he seems head over heels for Wednesday, but maybe at some point he'll see something in you? In school, you go through many dilemmas which you need to solve.

Part one - introduction

────♡────

The air changed when you walked through the gates of Nevermore Academy. It was the place said to take in people who didn't fit in with others. In simple words - Freaks. You never got along with other kids, you were seen as rash, scary, manipulative. You were a mind wander, you should invade a person's mind, feed them lies, see what they thought of you and even put images into their minds that they wouldn't be able to get rid of. You were used to hearing everyone else's thoughts apart from yours.

"I hope you have a good semester (y/n) we'll contact you." Your mother said holding your fathers hand. They looked at you with smiles carved onto their lips as they watched you delve deeper into the school. You simply waved back before their voices grew weaker in your ears. Now you heard rumbling of all the other students that gathered outside. They spoke to eachother and interacted. Being singled out, you stood clueless not knowing what course of action you should approach first. You felt a presence next to you. "You must be (y/n) we share a dorm, my name is Bianca." Turning to see the person talking to you, she had captivating eyes. Moments passed before you could respond. "Oh. Nice to meet you Bianca, and you are right on the dot. I'm (y/n)" A smile hinted at your lips as you looked at the woman that stood confidently in front of you. "Come, it's best if I show you around. You're new right?" You nodded in response as you began to follow Bianca closely. "Over these is Enid and Wednesday. They two done a fair bit last semester. And there, Thats Xavier with Ajax." You noticed how her voice was bitter when she said the name of the first male. With a quick glance his way, you could get s glimpse of his face. But you looked back to Bianca before you could look better. "I know Wednesday. Our family is rather close. So I've heard what happned last semester." You explained as you walked holding you own hand infront of you.

Bianca showed you around marjorty of the school before she took you to the shared dorm you had with her. "Make yourself at home, I'll be gone for a bit." The girl rushed to say before leaving the room, the door closing behind her. Now you were alone again. Taking a quick look around, you noticed her side of the room was decorated nicely. It was sophisticated. Your side of the room was bland and empty. With a huff you got to work ; unpacking your things and neatly putting them away. Hours passed before you were finally done. Finally, you thought to yourself as you slumped into your bed. The smell of home among you sheets. 'I shouldn't stay slumped for too long' you thought to yourself before pushing yourself up. Time for a bit exploring on your own.

You left your dorm room before you walked through the halls to find yourself outside back in the mian local area. A few people mingled around, talking and sitting with eachother. Only one thing caught your eye, a male that stood alone with a bow in his arms as he aimed. That seemed to peak you interest. Walking in his direction, you stood directly behind him silently. After a few attemps he finally got a bullseye. "Well done." You finally spoke up. It made the male jump as he dropped his bow, he turned defensively as his brows knotted. "What the hell! God. You can't do that." He said in a huff as he looked down on you. Xavier, the guy Bianca mentioned. You stared at him. "Hello?" He clicked his fingers in your face making you brake from your trance. "My apologies." Was all you said. In return you received a scoff from the Xavier. "So... what brings you here new girl?" He asked you dismissively as he reached down to grab his bow from the damp ground. Your eyes followed him as his stature got smaller. "Well, If it isn't obvious I want to join the archery club." You told him directly as you folded your arms over your chest. Xavier looked at you with his brow raised as a smug look came across his face. "Yeah?" He asked, again you just nodded. "Well what's your name then...I'm Xav-" before you could finish you beat him too it. "Xavier Thorpe. Nice to meet you I'm (y/n) Binaca told me about you." Being taken back he just laughed it off. "Uhuh..Bianca. Well nice to meet you too. I guess welcome to archery."

You didn't need to hear anymore, so you took your leave turning around and walking away. Xavier watched as you abandoned him coldy. A small chuckle left his mouth. "I'll see you tomorrow then." He called out to you as he walked off, but you left him hanging with no reply. You reminded him of a special someone he already knew.

First day of classes, herbology was first on your timetable. You sat with Bianca, you and her got along good so far. Observing your surroundings, you saw Xavier and Wednesday. His body turned to her as he talked to her. He so obviously liked her, but seeing Wednesday having no interest made you laugh. "Is he always like that?" You turned to ask Bianca. Again she has a bitter look on her face, you wondered what could make her like this. "Yes, since the start of the last Semester. He's been obsessed with her." She answered tapping her pen on her desk. Bianca was annoyed, it was clear. Best to change subject.

Class went by swiftly, and now you were packing up. You held a notebook in your hands as you left the room. Being halted at the door with a familiar man standing between you and the exit. "Hey, I'll see you later at archery?" Xavier spoke with a grin on his face. You raised your gaze to look at him, slightly annoyed be stood infront of you. "Yeah." You said pushing past him to get to your next class, but he caught up with you. "Is it true you know Wednesday?" He fired the question at you. Well now you knew why he was so egar to talk to you. "Yes, but don't think I'll answer all your questions about her." You sped up as he tried to get away from him, but you couldn't lose the guy. "I was just asking..." His voice curled in on himself. "Well keep your questions for when we aren't walking to class." You told him lastly before taking a sharp corner. Maybe he liked Wednesday a lot more than you thought. Funny.

Like you told him, you were there right on time. But xavier was nowhere to be seen. Well you didn't need him to start you off anyway. You grabbed a bow and a few arrows and placed them down by your side. Fast approaching footsteps from behind came your way. "Hey hey, sorry I'm a bit late." Xavier said slightly out of breath. But you didn't even bother replying. Raising the bow up infront of you with the arrow aimed at the big red dot in your field of vision. Xavier stood behind you as his arm slithered across yours to position it properly. His hand placed ontop of yours as while she shifted your arm slightly. "A little warning would be nice before you decide to get so close." You spoke up softly under your breath, but all he did was slightly chuckle. "Your stance isn't right." Xavier said as he pulled away from him, his arm hand dropping from yours. Taking a deep breath in, you let go of the string as the brow cut through the air. It hit outside the bullseye. Instead it hit one of the outside targets. You sighed, slightly annoyed. "You messed me up." You blamed your failur on Xavier. "My fault? Wow." He rolled his eyes as he reached for another bow and arrow. "I think, you just aren't good as me." As he said it, his arrow hit the bullseye. And he looked at you with a smirk a bit too proud of himself.

"Shut up." You grabbed another arrow from next to you and positioned it. "I mean, I wouldn't mind giving you a few lessons if you need them." Xaviers bow lowered as he proposed the idea to you. You looked at him with narrow eyes trying to see if he was serious or not. "Fine. Only a few lessons. See if you teaching is any good." You gave in, but you had to learn one way or another. Xavier looked pleased with himself as he put his hair up in a bun.

"Dont underestime me (y/n)"

───────────────────────

Psa, this is a multiple part series thing yeah.

Part 2 out now❗️

Word count : 1477

#xavier thorpe #Xavier #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x y/n #wednesday #nevermore academy #xavier thorpe x you #fanfic #archery #Spotify #wednesday netflix #percy hynes white #bianca barclay

244 notes · View notes

debunkingtherightwing · 3 months

Text

Candace Owens might be the stupidest Daily Wire grifter

Welcome to the blog, I hate you already. (source: The Candace Owens Show at Daily Wire. Episode was posted on February 2nd, 2024)

Candace Owens is the only one of the major Daily Wire four that I haven't covered yet. This is because she was on maternity/"I pissed off Ben Shapiro" leave and she only got back from that early January.

Candace Owens isn't a true believer. She briefly ran an anti-Trump blog until she decided to "come out as a conservative". Coincidentally that coming out has made her quite wealthy. Also she paled around with Kanye West when he was at the peak of his antisemitic public outburst and is part of the Charlie Kirk sphere over at Turning Point too so she strays even further right than a lot of Daily Wire grifters with the exception of maybe Matt Walsh.

Anyways, lets get into it. Candace starts off the show by talking about groundhog day and then starts the show off by dropping a slur....I'm already annoyed.

00:20, Candace Owens: "But onto more serious news. People on X are saying the Nikki Haley is showing signs of clinical retardation on the basis of a post she shared. It's very serious and we need to talk about it."

Dropping a slur within the first 20 seconds of your show is wild even for the bizarre media ecosystem that we inhabit on this blog.

00:30, Candace Owens: "Plus, later on in the show we are going to be discussing Sexyy Red. Let me tell you, it pains me to have this discussion. I fought my producers for two weeks, it is an artist, and yes the time has come, we do need to cover her."

This is something that a lot of these guys do that I find really funny. Oh yeah, your producer forced you to do this. Definitely not you just sniffing around for clicks. No, your producers dragged you onto your show to do this.

Anyway, Candace really hates Sexyy Red.

02:06, Candace Owens: "She's kind of a big deal. But she became a bigger deal last week when I declined to cover her because I was so physically sickened by what I was looking at, when she hosted a baby shower for her second child and she was with her baby daddy."

This is so obscenely overdramatic. So this woman's baby shower got a little dirty, who gives a crap? A big part of her image is being pretty raunchy so it's kind of whatever. The thing that Candace is pissed about is a photo she posted of her "baby daddy's" head in between her butt cheeks. It's stupid

If this woman chooses to make that her brand identity, whatever. More power to her. It's not really my thing so I don't watch it. It's that simple. Also, if you have ever seen RM Brown videos you've at least got to respect Sexyy Red for giving us the glorious sound drop of Ben Shapiro saying "bootyhole waxed down".

03:35, Candace Owens: "What we are seeing right now is a decline in culture full stop, but particularly in black America."

Whenever these people talk about cultural decline I always wonder what era of culture they yearn for. Is it like a Leave It To Beaver type situation with the parents sleeping in separate beds or something? Also, aren't these guys supposed to be free speech warriors?

"I want free speech....as long as the speech being practiced is only stuff that I like."

03:43, Candace Owens: "So the question is; how does somebody this grotesque, somebody this filthy, get a platform? Certainly it can't be happening organically."

"I can't comprehend somebody who I don't like having a following."

Candace does realize that people on this big orb that we call Earth have different and varied tastes and as a result people you might not like sometimes become popular.

She plays seven seconds of the music video for Pound Town and laments the decline of civilization.

04:37, Candace Owens: "What culture is that? Who's culture is that? Please spare me this 'It's black culture.'"

This may come as a shock to Candace but absolutely nobody is saying that Sexyy Red is representative of black culture. I mean, yeah as a black musician she's certainly a part of black culture but there are other aspects of black culture that you can consume if you don't like Sexyy Red. Culture is a complex thing that doesn't only include music, let alone only one artist.

04:44, Candace Owens: "I'm so glad we're covering this by the way, this is what we should be doing in Black History Month. We should be covering black present because it matters more."

Didn't you just say that your producers basically had to drag you into the studio and you had a two week long battle so that you wouldn't have to cover this?

Also, Candace Owens has some pretty deranged thoughts on slavery so her saying that we shouldn't talk about black history is pretty on brand.

05:26, Candace Owens: "And so I looked into who platformed this young woman, actually. Who is the record company or the media conglomerate that's behind her. It turns out that first it was an independent record that picked her up in 2021 but in 2023, and the reason why she's starting to gain so much popularity, a media company called Gamma started distributing her."

The reality-based explanation for why Gamma started distributing her is that they simply saw that she had the potential to gain traction and thus earn money. Keep in mind that she went viral in 2018 and collaborated with Summer Walker in 2022, both before Gamma started releasing her music.

Gamma most likely saw that this person was getting popular online and decided to capitalize on it. That's how the record industry has worked since it's inception. Find new talent that has the potential to attract an audience and capitalize on it.

05:54, Candace Owens: "The two individuals that started Gamma, one of them came out of Apple, his name is Larry Jackson. And the second one of them came from Interscope Records, he has a ton of clout in the record community, the music industry so to speak. And his name is Ike Youssef. Lets keep following this, lets keep going down this."

You mean to tell me that this startup record company picked up a startup artist who was gaining traction? Man, something sinister must be going on here!

This right here is what happens when you have conspiracy theory brain rot and you need to try and make something out of nothing.

06:16, Candace Owens: "Ike Youssef, people might want to stand out and say 'OK, who is this guy?'"

Oh gee, really? I wonder why Candace Owens' audience would hear a name like "Ike Youssef" and instantly regard that person with suspicion. Hmmm....

06:21, Candace Owens: "Now when I hear the name Youssef it instantly singles to me that this person is either Muslim or Jewish, Arab perhaps."

Ah, bingo!

06:34, Candace Owens: "I remain convinced that a Muslim exec and a Jewish exec would never put a Muslim and a Jewish artist that was putting this sort of music on the airwaves onto their platforms."

First of all, that statement is seedy as all Hell because the implication is that there's a Muslim and or Jewish conspiracy to push music that Candace doesn't like onto the black community.

Second of all, could it be that the Muslim and Jewish community don't often consume that type of music? I know that there are a lot of Muslim rappers and a lot of Jewish rappers but those communities are pretty conservative over all and probably wouldn't consume music like Sexyy Red. Again, it's not a conspiracy, it's business.

Anyway, she objects to Larry Jackson being black because he's....platforming black musicians? She plays a clip of Larry Jackson being interviewed for the Huffington Post.

09:19, Candace Owens: "So what did we learn in that clip? Well we learned that Larry Jackson came from a two parent home, a stable household, parents married for 45 years. I did some more digging, he went to catholic school, he ran cross-country, he worked hard from the time he was young, he was winning awards because he had an interest as he was working in radio, got his foot through the door, did everything right in life so that when he got to the top he could feed the community filth."

Again, different strokes for different folks. Candace Owens isn't the objective voice of authority on music or really art in general. If people like it, who the Hell cares? Mind your own business and let people like what they like!

Anyway, she's done with this Sexyy Red story and now it's time to talk about Nikki Haley.

11:27, Candace Owens: "Honestly I don't even know where to begin on this Nikki Haley thing other than to say that I feel vindicated. I feel vindicated because a lot of people watch this show and I say things and people are wondering if I'm trying to be funny or mean but I'm kind of just reading the tea leaves. And regarding Nikki Haley, on the day she announced she was running I shared a story with you guys and I told you that it signaled to me that Nikki Haley is not that intelligent."

I'm not a Nikki Haley fan by any means but you probably guessed that already so I won't press the issue any further. However, Candace has this completely stupid story about Nikki posting some fan emails that she received. Candace thinks they are fake.

14:53, Candace Owens: "Nikki the screenshot you sent unfortunately, in that left hand corner, it says send."

Here's what I think happened here, I think this probably was a real piece of fan mail that Nikki's team transposed the text of onto some stock graphic representing unsent mail. That way you don't end up doxing some guys email without his consent.

They probably also changed this "Michael B's" full last name to just Michael B or used a fake name for the tweet because again, doxing some random guy who sent your campaign fan mail is a REALLY bad idea.

Again, I don't like Nikki at all but we've got to be fair here.

15:14, Candace Owens: "And unfortunately ladies and gentlemen this isn't the only piece of 'fan mail' that Nikki Haley shared. She also shared this, it's on lined school paper, notebook paper."

Again, they put the text from the real letter onto a graphic. Not everybodies handwriting is easy to read and using a graphic helps keep everything clear. Plus if you post the actual text of the letter you may end up revealing somebodies full name or accidentally posting an address on the envelope. Using a graphic helps keep everybody safer.

If I was Nikki I wouldn't have done this or at least found another graphic because of bad faith morons like Candace Owens, but it's obvious that this is what this is.

15:45, Candace Owens: "That was written again by someone who decided not to use their last name."

What would Candace rather have happen? Have Nikki dox her fans who send her messages? I feel like this is just Candace being intentionally obtuse at this point.

Anyway, this Nikki stuff has gotten old at this point. Onto the next segment!

18:22, Candace Owens: "Alright guys, moving on. So obviously, when the BLM riots took place and those of us who are willing to simply tell the truth about what was going to happen once you encourage criminality in the inner cities."

So, the story that Candace is covering here is that there have been a string of Walgreens closures in Boston that have led to community leaders speaking out.

The thing that the griftosphere has ignored whilst covering this story is the fact that these pharmacies provide vital prescription medication to the communities that they are located in. Many of the people living in these disenfranchised communities can't afford to travel long distance to receive their prescriptions. In short, Candace is arguing that people should be denied vital prescription medication because "That's what happens when you shoplift". Complete sociopath behavior.

19:15, Candace Owens: "While democratic rep Ayanna Pressley has never been accused of being bright, but this is exceptional, it is exceptional what he is doing here. She is condemning Walgreens for quote on quote 'racial and ethnic discrimination' because they made the business-wise decision to close their doors in Boston after losing a ton of money because they were being robbed."

Quite frankly, when peoples lives and vital medications are in the fray I don't give a shit about a multimillion dollar conglomerate losing money.

Anywho, she plays a clip from Ayanna addressing the house. Here's the full speech if you are interested in watching it.

21:38, Candace Owens: "She's actually very sure of herself in this utterly stupid analysis, condemning a business for moving out and saying that 'OK, well what's going to happen if we don't have access to diapers?'. Well you should have thought of that before you were robbing the diapers from their store, before you were robbing the food from their store."

First of all, I would like to see the stats that show that these Walgreens are experiencing large amounts of theft because Candace hasn't provided them.

Second of all, and this is the more important point, even if there are some thefts should people in that neighborhood who have children and or medical conditions be forced to suffer for the actions of the few? No!

Anyway, that's really it for Candace' show, nothing else interesting happens. She reads comments from her viewers, some of which conspicuously don't have their last names displayed in their usernames. I guess they were fake and left by Candaces' team.

Conclusion:

So, that was my introduction to Candace Owens. This particular show was a complete disaster and was also so utterly freaking daft. I mean, compared to other Daily Wire guys I would say that Candace is on the worse end (they are all varying levels of bad but still). The entire episode was covering absolutely meaningless stories interspersed with casual bigotry and conspiracy theory nudging. Anyway, cheers and I'll see you in the next one.

#right wing bullshit #conservative bullshit #fact checking #journalism #conservatives #bad takes #disinformation #debunking #daily wire #politics #candace owens

0 notes

valdomarx · 4 years

Photo

i was tagged by the lovely @witchertrashbag and @gravitational813 to post my fanfic trope tier

so maybe i do love those classic cheesy fic tropes?? and what of it???

i’ll tag @lilacsdandelionsandonions @girl-in-red-crossing and @shipwrecked-nawtali if you’d like to play

#tag games #i'm a simple woman i see 'first time' and 'sharing a bed' and i click

73 notes · View notes

glassartpeasants · 3 years

Note

That ending was a stab on the heart from beginning to end I'm gonna steal bob 🏃🏾‍♀️

The One That Got Away

Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, death

A/N: Don’t threaten Bob

~~~

The bed felt different after that night.

2 months ago you had caught Shigaraki cheating on you with someone random woman. You stood in the doorway just watching, trying to find the words to say but nothing came out. It’s only when you dropped your groceries and your present to him is when he noticed your presence.

*flashback*

“Shit! (Y/N) it’s not what it looks like-” He tripped over his words. You said nothing as you just looked at him, knowing that no matter how much you loved him that there was nothing that could ever make you forget this.

“Fuck just say something!” You were still silent as you dropped the groceries you were holding. It just wasn’t clicking for you. How could he do this to you? what had you done wrong?

“What did I do wrong?” Your voice seemed to echo throughout the room. Nobody said anything. Until she spoke up.

“Oh my god, Im so sorry! I didn’t know he was taken! Please forgive me.” The girl spoke as she jumped outta bed and started putting her clothes on.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” Those words spilled from your mouth before you could actually say anything you meant. The girl had hugged you before saying she was so sorry a final time. Flipping off Shiggy on the way out.

“(Y/N)...i promise we can talk about this.” You just kept looking at him. Those eyes seemed to burn into his soul. He doesn’t think you noticed the tears spilling from your eyes. He was about to say something to you but you started to walk towards him. Thinking he was gonna get hit he just stood still before feeling your part of the bed dip.

He turns around to see you laying there, eyes still open with tears rushing down your face, your clothes of the day still on your body.

Shigaraki tried to put his arms around you but you had hit his hands back. and used your feet to push him to the edge of the bed while you laid clung to the wall.

*flashback over*

Thinking back on it you don’t know why you didn’t just walk away. Maybe you were to tired from being busy and running errands for him all day? Did you want it to be a bad dream and hope to walk up to realize nothing ever happened? Whatever the reason was, you weren’t sure but a part of you wishes that you left that night.

Now you sit at the bar, sitting far away from what use to be your boyfriend, not even taking a glimpse of him and he knew it. You just sat in the corner drinking and looking on your phone until a familiar smell approached you.

“Oh hey Dabi.”

“Hey there (Y/N), why aren’t you hanging out with crusty over there? He keeps staring at you and the tension in here could be cut with a knife. It’s been two months and apparently everyone said i should ask what's going on.”

“Im not going near him at the moment. We’re on a break per say.” this seemed to peak Dabi’s interest as he leaned closer.

“Oh? Did crusty do something? Your secret's safe with me, i swear on my soul.” What did it matter if you told Dabi? He already doesn’t respect Shigaraki so why not, plus, so what if that fuck didn’t want anyone knowing, he shouldn’t have cheated when everyone else was sleeping in the base.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you but, 2 months ago I caught Shigaraki cheating on me...” You felt small tears prickle the corner of your eyes. Bringing your hand up to your face you rub it away, hoping to ignore the pain that was banging against your chest.

“What a dick, wanna make him pay?” You look up at Dabi who had a huge grin on his face. You thought about it for a good few seconds before shaking each others hand.

“Once Shigaraki goes out on that mission today, we’ll talk more.” Dabi said before getting up from his seat and grabbing a drink from the bar.

You didn’t know what Dabi had planned but you hoped it would bring Shigaraki the same pain you felt that fateful night 2 months ago.

~~~

You sat on the ground in Dabi’s room as he paced back in forth, coming up with revenge plans. All of them sucked or ended up with you guys might going to Jail.

“New plan, everytime Shigaraki wants to hang out tell him you had plans with me and leave the room. You can go somewhere and i’ll go somewhere with you. Effectively ditching him.” Thinking, you try to come up with all the pros and cons this proposal Dabi shared with you. But soon your hurt over ruled the logical side of you and you agreed to it not a moment later.

“Great! Now all we need is for Shigaraki to ask to hang out with you. Don’t know how long that’ll take though...”

“I usually ignore him after what happened but sometimes he asks to hang out with me whenever its a slow day at the base or if he’s bored.”

“ Well guess we have to wait tell then huh?” Nodding your head, you get up before putting a thumbs up in his direction. You walked out of his room and see Shigaraki sitting at the bar. He must have finished his mission early. You rolled your eyes before sitting on the other side of the bar counter. You could feel shigaraki look at you through father.

“Hey....”

“.....”

“Look im sorry, a-and i know that doesn’t excuse what I did but please-” You got up before he could finishing his sentence as you walked towards your shared bedroom. Going in there use to give you comfort but now everytime you step into that room you see that fateful night over and over again.

You sat on the bed before hearing Shigaraki’s footsteps coming towards the room. Furrowing your brows, you ignore him as you put your shoes on. You needed a little bit of fresh air so you were planning on going to the local park to relax a bit. You weren’t a villain like the rest of them, you were just a simple civilian. Not that you minded really. It was peaceful not fearing for your life everyday and having the fear of failure not on your shoulders.

You didn’t really have a quirk so you just ignored the questions when people asked you if you had one.

“Can I talk to you?” You were dragged back to reality when Shigaraki’s voice rang through your ears. Annoyed you just answered hoping that the conversation would be short.

“What do you want?” You voice was snappy and you could feel the venom dripping from it.

“I understand that your mad. And you have every right to be but your not even giving me a chance to redeem myself and-”

“Redeem yourself? Why the hell would I do that? YOU cheated on ME. LIke hell im gonna forgive you so easily.”

“It’s been two months! What happened was in the past!”

“It was in the past my ass. How would you like it to see your lover in bed with another?!”

“I-”

“I felt like my soul died that day. I thought I was your only one! Only to find out that you slept with her! Was she a one time thing or were there more hookups?!” You stood up from the bed as your fists turned white and your anger slowly erupting.

“.....”

“TELL ME DAMNIT!”

“Three...there were three different occasions...” Now the tears were kicking in. You were hoping that it wasn’t true. What if there was more and he was only saying three just to ease your heart?

“Why? Why would you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?” Your questions were like knives stabbing into Shigaraki’s heart. He wanted to tell you the truth, but he didn’t want your heart to hurt more than it already was.

“Im not going to ask again Shigaraki. You either tell me the truth or I will walk out of this base and never come back.”

“The...the first time it was a drunk accident, the second time Dabi had brought her to the base and one thing led to another. The last one was the same as the second one.”

“Did...did Dabi know about the affair?” You were begging, no pleading for him not to have known. You didn’t know if your heart could take it.

“Yes...” That was it. That was the thing that broke you. Walking up to Shigaraki you pushed past him before flipping him off and saying one final line.

“I would rather die that ever be with you again.” And with that, you left the hideout. You speed walked through the alleys to get to you parked your car. Your friends house was pretty far and you didn’t feel like walking in the dead of night were criminal activity was more active.

Getting in your car, you turn on the radio and start breaking down. Your tears were blurring your eyesight as you put the car in drive.

The streets weren’t busy except for the occasion car with some college students. Or drunk people walking along the sidewalk. The sound of the radio blasting songs that were supposed to be happy barley brightened up your mood as you drove down the dark highways.

All of a sudden a bright light hit your eyes from the right side. Some fuck must have had their brights on. But you had the right away so you went. All of a sudden a huge crash rang through your ears and the world became dark.

~~~

A ring came from Shigaraki’s phone. Looking at the clock he noticed it to be 2am. Annoyed he just decided to answer it.

“Hello, this is (hospital name). You were listed under a emergency contact for (Y/N) (L/N).” Shigaraki jolted awake as his hands reached his neck, standing up and already begun to pace the floor of his room.

“Yes did something happen?!”

“At 12am tonight miss (Y/N) was in a car crash. A hit and run to be exact. Their car was totalled after it rolled about 3 times from the speed that the driver hit them. A bystander of the accident called 119. They were in need of surgery immediately once paramedics noticed that they were crushed and bleeding out quickly due to a shard of glass that was stabbed in their chest.”

“Are they okay?!” The doctor on the other end went silent.

“Im deeply sorry for your lost sir. They died during surgery trying to remove the glass that was lodged in their skin. The police are on the look for the suspect. if you wish to see them were on (blank street). Once again, im sorry for your loss. Goodnight sir.” The phone went silent as the doctor hung up.

Everything seemed to stop as the feared villain feel to his knees. Tears fell from his eyes as his body shook. He realized that now it was impossible to even try. And the last words you had ever said were ‘ you’d rather die than ever be with him again.’ Crying into his hands as his tears made a puddle on the floor.

I guess you took your words seriously.

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #Shigaraki #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura shiragaki #mha #bnha #mha angst #bnha angst #tomura shigaraki angst #:)

172 notes · View notes

everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

Text

seeing someone else.

BISHOP LOSA. MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @encounterthepast: Hello lovely Aurora, can I request angst prompt number 7 with Bishop please, thank you, 💕

❝ prompt: “Don’t you dare to lie to me again”.

❝ request by @arveeee: Hello my dear, so I was thinking, and there is one sentence to that can't go out of my head. So it is: "let me in" with Bishop (I know I'm boring). Well I believe in you, I love you , and I love your writing. Say hello to Arya.

❝ request by anon: Hi, Aurora. I love your writing sm 🥺 I was wondering if I could request an imagine with my man Bishop? I was thinking of something like the reader and him being in kinda like a friends with benefits situation, but she decides to break it offf because she’s really upset. And maybe Bishop doesn’t understand so she eventually explains to him that she wants more out of their relationship and he reassures her they are more and they always have been? Maybe leads to like soft/romantic smut? Thanks so much!

❝ request by @meteora-fc: hello hello! so, that new trailer huh?😵 would absolutely love if you could write me something for a stressed out bishop with the prompts "Stop ignoring me, it’s driving me crazy!" and "Let me help you make it better." Thank you tons!!💖

❝ words: about 1.4k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

Another tequila shot goes down your throat, ripping it off as you almost smash the small glass on the table. Tossing your head back as you rest your back against the sofa, sitting on the floor, you take a look around you. The gloomy has taken over your house as the night has fallen a couple of hours ago. It's the fourth night you are trying to forget about Bishop and whatever you two had. But you can't dismiss from your mind his caresses —his fingers drawing patterns on your back, his lips touring your neck with delicate kisses as if he was afraid of breaking your skin, his mustache tickling your inner thighs, his raspy voice articulating your name in moans. It's the fourth night miserably failing, remembering the last time you spent together, the way he was holding his back pretending he wasn't sad because you were leaving him.

“Obispo, it's over. Don't make a big deal. We're just friends who occasionally fucks”. You scoffed somewhat annoyed because of him and his interrogation, but how could you tell him you were falling in love with him?

“I ain't making any deal, (Y/N). I just want to know what made you change your mind and keep a wide berth”.

“I'm seeing someone else”.

"Don't you dare to lie to me”. He growled, taking a step closer towards you with the intention of stopping you from picking up and packing the less stuff you had in his house.

“Think what you want”. You replied, rolling your eyes.

The first tear flows in the left corner of your mouth not appreciably at first, but then, some more until finding yourself crying. You miss him so much. You miss watching him sleep peacefully in the small hours, drifting slightly when you caress his cheek using your fingertips. Flexing your knees to your chest, you wrap your arms around trying to contain the loud sobs, hiding your face between them. How have you been so stupid to fall for him like that? The two of you made it clear from the very first moment. Friends with benefits. But after a couple of weeks, you started to notice that he used to push away any other woman that it wasn't you, he didn't spend much time in the clubhouse preferring to do it in your house —cuddling, watching movies, playing poker; kissing every single inch of flesh covering your anatomy.

Reality hit you the moment he murmured something like you're a miracle, thinking you were calmly sleeping between his strong arms and your back stuck to his chest, no distance among your bodies. You knew it was a thing produced by the alcohol running through your veins and it wasn't fair for you to fantasize about the idea he was catching feelings for you. So you just ran away, like a coward.

Some clumsy knocks on the front door of your house bring you back to reality. At first, you try to ignore them. It's not like you're in the mood for visits, knowing that probably it's Leti at the other side of the place, worried because you haven't replied to her text all day. But she insists and insists. And you know how stubborn she can be sometimes. Serving yourself another shot and drinking it in just one gulp, because you're too sober to endure another of her Ted talks about positivism and what he has lost, you stand up on your bare feet. Everything around you spins dizzyingly for a second until you can react, feeling every knock like a hammer hitting your brain.

“I've heard you the fi—”.

Opening the door to receive her, your vocals get frozen as you face Bishop in a deplorable drunk state. Just like you are.

“Let me in”. He barks, not being able to look at your eyes, trying to pass you away to the inside, but you stop him.

“Go home, Obis—”.

“I'm home, shut the fuck up”. He frowns taking a sip from a bottle of whisky you haven't noticed till now. “You think you can kick my fuckin' ass outta your life by saying you're seeing someone else? You think I'm fuckin' stupid, queri— Were you crying…?”

From anger, his tone of voice falls to one lower and lower, as the concern and the worry cover his annoyance completely. Throwing away his drink to somewhere over the grass of your yard, he holds your face onto his palms. His touch causes you to tremble. His warm touch causes you to break into aching sobs, panting as you can't breathe properly. All this time you've been thinking you have missed him, but you didn't have a real idea of how it feels until his fingers have been laid on your wetted skin.

Bishop comes closer to you, touching the tip of your nose with his. You can smell the mixed scent of cigarettes and whisky emanating from his cracked lips, it doesn't bother you, tho. “Don't kiss me, please”.

Until this precise moment, he has loved your begs and pleads to his bones, but now he hates them more than anything he could ever hate in his life. It breaks his heart. He can't deal with your rejection one night more.

“Why…? Why can't I kiss you?” He asks desperately at the edge of his tears. “Please, stop ignoring me, it's driving me crazy. I can't even take care of my own shit without you by my side”.

Your knees feel weak at his words, still believing he only says that because you're just a good lover, the best in the sheets, as he told you once.

“I… I…” You babble nervously, trying to not place your hands on the laps of his leather kutte to finally push him into the needed kiss you've been craving for the last four days. “I love you”.

And why the confession doesn't take him by surprise? Why doesn't he look confused? Why does it seem like he already knew it? Bishop can't help but draw a fleeting grin across his face.

“Do you think I came here, falling into pieces, just because it feels like being in Heaven when I'm deep inside you?” He whispers, clicking his tongue slightly. “I didn't believe you when you told me you were seeing someone else. But the minimal thought I could have about it made me lose the less sanity I have”.

You blink stupefied at his own confession about his feelings. Your fingers tour his abdomen up in slow motion, starting to have some faith in his words.

“Mi amor…” Bishop mumbles in soft giggles shaking his head. “I adore you, mi amor. I don't want anything else than to share my life with you, and only with you”.

He doesn't wait for a signal from you to kiss your lips, he just takes what it's his. And you can't hold back a painful gasp, expelling in it all the sorrow you've been carrying for the last four days being separated from him. Your hands grip his shirt in two fists, pushing him as much closer as the two of you can be, about to melt in the same figure. All this time you have been trying to not love him, to forget him; and you were just delaying the inevitable. You are made for each other, that's a fact. Your lips fit to perfection —your bodies, your hearts.

“Tell me you love me”. You whimper against his mouth, causing him to smile because of your need of making it real by these simple three words.

“Love isn't enough to express what you make me feel”.

Bishop bends down without prior notice to wrap his huge hands on the back of your thighs, urging you to jump onto him and surround his waist with your legs. You haven't forgotten how good his warmth takes over you when he holds you like that, walking inside your house and kicking the door close. Guiding his steps across your place and its hallways, he reaches your dark dorm barely illuminated by a post light outdoors. He lies you down on your bed —a bed that has welcomed you for the last eight months in every kind of state. Drunk, tired, happy.

Now, you're a mix of them. Drunk in tequila, tired of crying, but happy for having him back for the rest of your life.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @badame1240 @regalbanshee @greeneyedblondie44 @phoenixhalliwell @codenamewife

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa

392 notes · View notes

vannybarber · 3 years

Text

Put Some Respect On My Name!

Summary: As a wife and a mother to the kids of this asshole, respect is the one thing you better be recieving from him...after some good 🍆 of course. That's number one right there.😏

Ransom Drysdale x Black Reader

BIG ASS PLOT

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Pregnant¡Reader, swearing, insults, angst, mentions of cheating, SMUT, breeding kink, spanking, oral (female receiving), praise kink, unprotected sex, mentions of religion, threats of violence (nothing extreme).

So here your are. Sitting on you and Ransom's shared California King bed looking at his friend, Derek's Instagram story, disappointed and angry. But mostly angry. Some nasty ass trick is sitting on your baby daddy's lap. Her loppy floppy tits out with a drink in hand and him drinking a Moscato, the one beverage he loved to order everytime he went out.

Last year for New Year's, you had to stop him from ordering more or else you were going to be cleaning him up after puking everywhere at midnight instead of getting a kiss to start off another year.

Your two year old daughter was in her playroom across the hall making a mess with her toys. Usually you'd be down there playing with her but your swollen stomach done prohibited you from doing a lot of things now. But it most definitely ain't stop you from getting what you want from Ransom every day and night. Nothing could ever stop you guys from getting yo freak on. Nothing.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale is most definitely an asshole and you're not gonna sit here and lie, acting like he completely changed when you guys came together. That boy still has his moments, but of course, it would be a chilly ass day in hell before you sit there and take his bullshit. He been learned that.

At this point ,you were thinking of ways to get on his ass about it when he comes home. Should you get the bat and wait at the door on some Beyonce shit ? Or put some bleach in his Fruit Loops like Cardi the next day ? Those sounded a lot better than what you decided to do. You were gonna wait till he got back home and calmly confront him on it, regardless of what your hormones wanted. 6 months pregnant and anger do not go together. You're WAAAAY more vulnerable and bound to do anything now. So you just watch your daughter brush her baby doll, hitting her on the head cause she won't sit still, rubbing your bump and wait for him to come home.

You hear shuffling downstairs and keys hitting the bowl by the front door. His big head home now and you're beyond ready.

You check the time and it's 2:46 am. You been put your child to sleep hours ago. You were just watching Wild N' Out to pass the time, thinking of how you were gonna start off without making yourself even more mad. The baby nor you need any of that. You were internally praying he was gonna get his ass over here soon cause your ass knocked out for a little bit. You were sleepy as hell right now.

Hearing those expensive ass Chelsea boots hit the sleek stairs and up to the second floor, you woke the fuck up real quick. You stay quiet and watch him walk in your daughters room and check on her. You can see with the nightlight him smile and rub her brown cheek with the back of his forefinger, whispering inaudible words to her. Fuck him and his adorable ass.

He bends back up straight and walks out her room closing the door a little and make his way across the hall to your room. He sees you and your pregnant state in your white tube top and grey booty shorts. Simple yet the baddest bitch he's ever laid eyes on and ever will. He smiles while locking eyes with you and all you do is narrow yours back at him getting upset all over again, regardless of the sweet previous moment shared with your baby girl.

He gives you a 'what the hell ?' look and comes over to give you a kiss but you jerk your head back with the stank face and a 'boy move out my face' quietly leaving your mouth. Now he's REALLY confused.

"Mama, what's wrong with you?"

You look at him like he just asked you to get on your knees and bark like a dog.

"What's wrong with me? You really asking that?" raising your voice on the second question.

Technically, he has the right to ask, being that he doesn't know what you know. He probably doesn't even know that Derek was recording him and that broad. Nor does he know that you texted Derek to keep recording him so you know nothing escalates.

Call it what you want, but you know how your man is. He's immature and irresponsible as HELL. If something had popped off that really threatened y'all's relationship, you would've been in that bar with your child on your right hip, earphones in her ear and tablet in hand, cussing him and that girl out.

"You wanna tell me how your night went?" You tilt your head asking sweetly, with a drop of sarcasm. You truly are a petty ass piece of work. And you love it.

"Just get to the point Y/N. The fuck did I do this time ?" At this point he's now visibly annoyed. But you ain't care. This situation is on his part. Y'all could've had a nice night, fucking while Big City Greens playing in the background on the T.V. eventually waking your child up cause you loud as hell, but nooooo. That ain't happening now.

You grab your phone and open back up Instagram, Marta popping up on your feed with Harlan reading a book. You like it and search up Derek's @ then click his story. You flip through countless tabs until you see the man-child standing in front of you, on the screen. You motion him over to the bed.

"Come here, asswipe."

He rolls his eyes, but moves them feets anyway. You turn your phone to him and let the video play. You watched it about a thousand times so you know exactly when it ends. After it does you pull the phone back in your lap and give him a questioning look.

Sometimes it's hard to read his expressions and this was one. It was a mix of slight guilt and double the annoyance. He backs up and stands back at the end of the bed, arms crossed.

"Really? This why you're upset?"

You swear you almost slapped him. And this time you couldn't blame the hormones because it was gonna be ALL YOU. You take a deep breath and lean your back against the cushion headboard.

"I KNOW you did not just ask me that as if I ain't supposed to be bothered by the fact that my husband got some random woman on his lap while I'm at home with his daughter and his growing child."

You deadass don't believe him right now. He really pressing you as if he don't know how you get when you're angry, especially while pregnant.

"My feet hurt. I am TIRED. I can't even move for more than 5 minutes without getting sick and having to sit down. The you come at me with this bullshit" you continue. "What the hell is wrong with you ?"

He just deadpans you. And you stare at his ass right back. You not playing right now.

"Y/N, you never get upset when I go out with my buddies and get hammered." He's flapping his arms around raising his voice at every word.

"What is the big deal now? It's fucking late and you're doing all this right now. What the hell?"

You gather the strength and get out the bed to close the bedroom door cause you about to go AWF.

Getting back on the bed fully sitting up and supporting your own weight, you tie your butterfly braids up in ponytail.

"Listen, you raggedy shitball,"

It's about to go down. You adjust yourself, ready to release the wrath.

"I don't give a damn how late it is. You know better than to go out and let some bitch get close up on you like that. Were you even thinking about me or your kids while she was on you? The fuck was going through your mind? Oh wait, I forgot. You don't fucking think. You have to actually have a damn brain."

"Raggedy shitball? Real mature, babe. Real fucking mature." He says rolling his eyes, finally getting his shoes off and putting them under the chair were his scarf and coat are draped over.

You continue with your rant.

"Ironic for you to comment on maturity, Hugh."

Yep, that's right. You said it. You called him by his ugly ass first name. Linda and Richard must've been out they damn mind naming him that shit. He whipped his head around, any sense of expression just completely wiping from his face. Perfect. Just the reaction you wanted.

"Don't call me that." He stated, pure disgust in his words. To be honest, you don't even blame him. But like stated before, you petty as hell.

"Hugh, Hugh, Hugh. Your name is fucking Hugh" you say in a sing songy voice. Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.

"You don't get to tell me what to do right now. And back to what I said before. Why you let that girl in your lap like that ?"

"It was completely harmless. We were just having fun. Like you said before, you aren't a jealous person. Stuff like that shouldn't even be affecting you like this." He gets on the bed beside you and your face tore back up again. He's really getting in this fucking bed beside you like nothing.

But he was right though. You aren't a jealous person. A girl can come up to him at a party and flirt right in your face, but you'd never be bothered. Cause at the end of the day, her ass is getting rejected and he's gonna be inside you later the same night. He's yours and you're his. Simple.

"Ransom, just because I'm not a jealous person doesn't mean I'm gonna keep my mouth if our relationship is threatened." This man is actually delusional.

"You never entertain other girls when I'm around and here you are with a girl on your lap and I'm not there to say or do nothing. And you know your shitty friends will just encourage it. "

At this point, you started to get really insecure. Maybe it's the hormones, maybe it's just your logic. But your mind started racing like NASCAR. What really happens when he's out and you're at home? He wouldn't put your marriage and family at risk over a bitch...right? He hasn't cheated on you, has he? These thoughts really weren't good for your right now.

But he must've read your expressions. You were zoned out and he knows you're an over thinker so he had to stop you real quick. He puts his large left hand over your thigh, rubbing it and his right around your ass, leaning his head against your arm, trying to get you to chill. It almost worked, him knowing you liked your thighs rubbed, especially in your state.

But you caught that shit right away. You moved out of his hold and turn your body completely towards him. And then you ask him.

"Have you ever cheated on me?"

He freezes, you swear for at least 2.4 milliseconds and whips his head around to look at you. You turn your head away, somewhat regretting you even asked. You know this fucker loved you and your family with everything. He even said in his vows he would give his all into you. And you believed him. But fuck that right now. You need to know.

"Are you GODDAMN serious right now?!"

Okay, you paused for two things; he used God's name in vain, which you HATED, due to you growing up religious. Even though you don't practice it very often, it still bothered you. And two, he yelled, completely disregarding the fact that your kid is across the hall sleeping.

You snap your head around, braids hitting your face with super saiyan speed and kick him in his hip.

"What the shit, Y/N?"

"First of all, you know how I feel about that fucking word. STOP USING IT. And two, your daughter is sleeping so you need to keep your damn voice down!"

He's rubbing his side with a distorted look, but you could care less. You were fed up. This imbecile wasn't showing you any respect and your weren't gonna wait for him to get it right.

"How the hell would you feel if I went out, sat on some random dude's lap and entertained him while you were at home with our kid? Matter a fact, I'll do one even better. How about while I'm PREGNANT with YOUR baby, that YOU put in me, I sit on him and letting him rub my belly?"

Ransom has a big ass breeding kink. When you told him you were pregnant he was ecstatic. The though of him knocking you up, his seed growing inside of you just gave him pure ecstacy. And don't even get started on when your bump started to form. He was fucking every chance he got. He was in a theme park and you were his favorite ride.

You know you were playing with fire, but that shit felt AMAZING. He was really feeling how you were feeling right now. Them veins were popping out his neck and his face was slightly turning red. Baby boy was LIVID.

"Y/N, cut that shit out. I'm not doing this with your ass tonight." He looked at you with these eyes you've only seen when his family pissed him off at those gatherings he dragged both of you to. Before you had your first child of course. You went to them less after your daughter's birth because he didn't want her around his shitty family. You completely understood.

"Nah, baby boy. Since you want to be so inconsiderate and a triple asshole tonight, you can lay here by yourself and bathe in it." You got your big ass out the bed after minutes of struggling. Grabbing your black Betty Boop pillow with her cute afro, your charger, phone and your Hot Cheetos out the night stand and slipped on your slides, you waddle across the room, heading into the guest bedroom.

You refuse to sleep in the same bed as him, especially since he refuses to admit he's in the wrong. If you stay in there, you're just going to get even more frustrated and you don't want to harm your baby.

"Y/N, baby. What are you doing? Come back in here" he called you from the bedroom.

You shut the door and lock it. You'll be damned if you're gonna come running back cause he aSkEd you to. You settle in the bed, plug your phone up, grab your chips and turn When They See Us on the T.V.

Ransom just lays back on the bed in defeat. He didn't even make an effort to get you back in the room because you're stubborn as a mule. But he takes this time to go over what just happened.

He truly didn't think you would make a big deal. Like you said before, you're not a jealous person, so he didn't think he'd have to worry. Boy, was he all the way wrong. And you did have a point about you entertaining another man. That had his blood boiling. He gets at most irritated when you come with him to events, like the Oakley Country Club in Watertown and you're everyone's distraction.

It was your first appearance with him there and you being a sight to see, had all eyes on you and your body. Hell, even the women were checking you out, no envy or jealousy in sight. He knew then, he was gonna keep you close. You don't remember ever leaving his side that evening. He even volunteered to go into the bathroom with you. He didn't want to take a chance with the females either.

But in all seriousness, he couldn't bear the thought of you with another man. Especially now that you're married and have two kids together. But he really couldn't believe that you'd even suggest that he had been unfaithful to you. Your reasons were plausible, yes, but he was honestly...hurt. He knows what kind of guy he is comes off as, but he'd never intentionally ruin what you guys have built. You were the only one he truly let close.

He knew what he had to do, even though he dreaded it. He had to go apologize. He hates when you're upset with him. Absolutely hates it. Plus you were looking sexy as hell tonight and he need some of that round brown ASAP, no rocky.

Ransom got up and opened the door, making his way down the hall to the guest bedroom, but not before checking his baby's room. She was still fast asleep, little snores leaving her body. Exiting her room, he knew your door would be locked but tried to open it anyway. When it didn't budge, he knocked a couple of times. But you was knocked out.

Then he remembered. Lifting his hand to the top of the door frame, he searched for the thin key that unlocked the bedroom doors. Once he felt it, he grabbed it and inserted it in the door knob. Click. He pushed the door open and looked around to see the T.V. screen on, but paused, and you lying on your side with the Cheeto bag still open like a damn fool.

He shut the door quietly and made his way around the bed. He closed the loud ass bag, which caused you to stir and reposition your legs. He set the bag on the nightstand and crawled into the bed with you. He stared at you for a moment. Looking at your full lips and your wide nose.

Your afrocentric features were always so mesmerizing to him because they were different from all the other women. They were unique and he understood why you took so much pride in them. You had the damn right, especially looking that good. You were never afraid to embrace them. No person of color should ever be afraid to. Ever.

After what felt like an hour of weird ass staring, Ransom started to shake your arm, trying to wake you. You're a heavy ass sleeper, so it took him a while. You opened your eyes, squinting trying to figure what the fuck just woke your ass up. Feeling a dip in the bed and a presence next to you, Ransom comes into sight.

Even though this man is finer than a MOTHERFUCKER, you still turned your nose up when you looked at him. Your ass was still mad and it was ridiculous. Understandable, but ridiculous as hell. You could only imagine what he wanted now. You roll your eyes.

"Listen, I know you're still pissed at me and whatever, but I just came in here to.... apologize."

He averted his gaze to the T.V. You know how difficult it is for your baby to apologize for anything because even though he clearly in the wrong, he will never ever accept it nor admit it. And damn sure never apologize.

"I realize how you felt when you saw that video", he continued. "I would be even more pissed if you were the one in someone else's lap and I couldn't kick their ass as soon as I saw it."

You chuckled a little bit because it's true. He would be angry as shit. Although, you'd never be in that position because you love and respect him too much. But you let him finish before you spoke.

"With that being said, I'm sorry for my actions. Believe it or not, I'm still getting adjusted to being a husband and a father. I'm still struggling to give up my old habits and the shit I'm so used to doing. It's not easy, baby."

You grab is strong jaw and make him face you. He hasn't made eye contact with you this entire time. You almost felt bad, but he needed to understand. Understand where you were coming from and understand how it made you feel.

"Ransom, I'm not asking you to completely change who you are. I just want to know that you're in this for good. Because you can't turn back now. We've come too damn far. And I'll be damned if you decide to give up your responsibilities. Your ass gon' be grass."

He smiled a teeny bit, because what can you say? You're a natural born comedian. You can turn any situation in to some funny ass shit. But you get back to your point.

"I want you to be able to go out and have fun, but also come back and be a husband and a father. I value my independence just as much as you, so I get it. Just remember what you have. Don't fuck it up for some pussy, alright? That's all I'm saying."

You look him in his sea blue eyes. Damn, them thangs are hypnotic as hell. But you search for something that tells you he understands. That's all you fucking want. Him to understand. But you definitely got your answer.

Just as you were about to ask him, he shoots his face towards you and attacks your mouth like a damn wild ass pig. You were thrown all the way off, but you checked back into reality and kissed him back. You guys had this amazing ass way of getting in sync when you kissed. No matter who initiates it, you flow amazingly.

After a few mintues of saliva attack, you pull away tryna breathe cause he was about to take all your fucking oxygen. He laughs at the look on your face. You end up cracking up too. You can't help it. And he knows it.

"I completely understand, mama. I've definitely taken this into consideration. I learned my lesson." He smiles down at you. Internally you're proud as fuck because it's like you raised a bad ass kid into a well behaved one. The power your ass holds is amazing.

Then you look at the door trying to figure out how the hell he got in the room. "The key." You nod in realization. He rubs your thigh again, and this time, you don't stop him. Instead he stops himself. You look at him confused as fuck.

"But I'm gonna let you sleep in here, since you seem to be so cozy." He was messing with you. Fuck him. He gets up off the bed and head towards the door, but not before looking back to catch your reaction. You had a 'get your ass back over here' look on your face. But he just smirked. That signature smirk.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He really out here testing you right now. The balls on this motherfucker...

"Ransom, get your ass over here and give me what I want." You look down at his crotch, imagining him without his wool Reiss pants. He follows your eyes, still holding that smirk, but not forgetting to widen it. You lusting after his fLeSh turned him on bad. And it felt so good.

You already know you're to hard to resist. Everyone loves chocolate. Even Ransom's lactose intolerant ass.

You start to rub your belly, purposely drawing his attention, really making him turned on for you. You can feel that that tropical rain storm in your Fenty underwear.

And that boy was ready to start swimming. He expediTiously got back on the bed and in between your legs. You give him that look and that's all he needed. Connecting your lips to his and moving them in perfect sync like always, he starts rubbing up and down the side of your full belly.

"So fucking perfect and all of it's for me."

You pause.

"And who said all of this was for you, Mr. Drysdale?"

Not amused by your comment, he slaps your ass louder than a bitch and you shut your ass up real quick. Not before letting out a little giggle though.

He lifts your heavy ass and pulls the tube top over your head, letting your swole breasteses fall into position. Your areolas widened since having your daughter and Ransom LIVED for it. You were definitely enjoying them massages and those lips treatments he gave you when they were sore, just like now.

He starts kneading the left breast and continues to make out with your face like an animal. His left arm is holding your ass up. He eventually lays you back down, knowing damn well his ass is tired of holding you. You ain't blaming him either.

He hooks his lips on the nipple of the same breast, twirling his deadly tongue all around it. You moan with your head thrown back cause it feels good as hell. He lets go and replaces his mouth with his hands and twirls the nipple with his mouth on the other.

All you could do was mumble cuss words and grab his hair. He was really fucking you up and the real fucking didn't even start yet.

Trailing kisses all the way down your beautiful bump, down all the stretch marks till he reaches your shorts. He wasted no time getting them off and disposing them on the clean floor. Whatever he throw on the floor HE'S picking that shit up, not you. You'll make sure of that.

He looks directly at your covered pussy with excitement in his eyes. More excited than you were, if that's even possible. He takes his thick index finger and rubs you through your panties, completely soaking them. You just watch him, lust dialating your pupils.

He yanks them off, almost taking you off the damn bed at the same time, so you had to re-adjust yourself. He spreads your legs on their sides of his wide shoulders and licks from your core to the hood that covered your clit. You jerked a little cause you were in your second trimester, the horny trimester. You were 🌃 sensitive 🌃.

Then his annoying ass starts lapping in circles in super saiyan speed. You cry out and grab your left breast, squeezing and rubbing it. He stretches his left hand out and takes the right one, doing the same thing. Your back was continuously arching. You know your baby was fed up.

After a couple of more laps, your body finally can't take anymore and you cum all over his mouth. He has the audacity to keep going, even when your clit is hypersensitive, making you literally whimper, so you have to slap his head to get him to stop.

He pulls away with that stupid famous smirk.

"All that shit you're always talking, but you couldn't take a little sensitivity?" He teases you. But that's alright, cause you gon' remember that next time you're on your knees for him. When he comes, you not taking your mouth off him until you feel like it.

"Just fuck me already before I change my mind." You don't know why you even said that shit. He can tease you all you want. You'll never not have your legs or mouth open, ready for him to stick his dick wherever he feels.

He just chuckles, cause he knows that too.

Taking your body, he flips you on your left side and settles behind you, dick right against your ass. Its one of your favorite positions because he could hit your sweet spot perfectly this way. And he could rub your bump at the same time. Beneficial for the both of your greedy asses.

He was taking way to long so you grab his dick and line it up with your pussy and push the tip in slowly, playing with your own arousal. Ransom just watched. He loved seeing you desperate for his stupid ass, but you gave zero fucks at the moment.

Finally you slip his huge ass girth inside you and you moan out loud as hell. You really just be turned on by anything at this point. He then takes back the lead and pushes further till he bottoms out inside you. He's heavily breathing his hot ass breath on your neck like a weirdo, but fuck it.

Once both of you are adjusted, he starts moving in and out of you. The position made your walls hella tighter and he was already hitting your spot. His tight arm is wrapped around your stomach now. You constantly moan his name and he's just encouraging it.

"Ransom, fuck, baby just like that"

"You love when I fuck you like this, don't you pretty girl?"

You hated when he called you "pretty girl, sweet girl, or good girl" because you become a straight whore for him right away. He's such an asshole.

"Yes, Daddy- please don't stop"

"Tell me how bad you want it baby"

There he go with these fucking games. Always wanting to hear you beg.

"I want it so bad, Daddy ! pleASe give it to mE"

Happy Ransom?

He starts to pick up the pace and you feel the pleasure in your toes. It just travel from there all around your body and you can't say anything but "don't stop" and moan uncontrollably.

You start getting close and he can tell by the way you pick up the moans. So he starts going faster. But never forgetting to add a little nasty dialogue.

"I can feel you ready to come sweet girl. Keep clenching around me baby" That shit just made you even more whore-knee. If you weren't already pregnant, he was definitely gonna put a baby in you that night.

"Baby I'm close- fill me up Ransom please "

You're begging for this man to cum inside you, but he always wanna play a damn game.

"Hmmm do you truly deserve to cum baby? I don't know if you do.."

You wanted to hit him so bad, but he wouldn't let you come if you did. So you go along with it.

"Yes Daddy I'll do anything- Please just let me cum !" You screamed.

At this point you were loud as 🌃fuck🌃 .

After more begging he finally let you come.

"Oh shit Ransom- FUCK" You come all over his dick and shortly after, he came right behind you. Filling you up just like you wanted. He slumped against your back and you lowered your shaky leg.

"You always take me so well baby girl." He starts kissing your neck. You could literally hear that loppy ass smile he has on his face everytime y'all get done. But you get all tingly inside because you love when he praises you. Makes you feel proud of yourself.

"Well there's not much to take so...it's whatever." What are you without a teasing remark after every other sentence? But he always has a clapback.

"Its funny you say that because the other day you were practically in tears because my dick was "too much for one woman to take" and that I was practically torturing you." At this point you're turned over facing him grinning like a Cheshire cat and him smiling right back at you.

"Oh shut the fuck up, with your annoying ass." You snap back at him playfully, rolling your eyes.

"You love me, my chocolate bunny." He let's out an audible yelp when you kick him in his leg. You hate when he calls you that. "Cut it out Ransom, or you're not touching me for a week."

There you go again saying the dumb shit. You both know that YOU could never go through with that.

"Fine by me", he states unphased. Cause he knows you could never.

You roll your eyes for the 50thousanth time.

"You're lucky I love your ass."

"I love you too pretty girl" he winks.

Just as you were about to get up, you hear something jiggle the doorknob and someone huffing and puffing outside the door. That little girl over here jumping up and down tryna to open the damn door. You're literally hollering at her struggle. Truly sick in the fucking head.

"Mama! Where Papa ?" Ransom grins as he throws you his blue sweater so you can cover up and gets up to let your baby girl in.

You truly cannot stand this guy.

This all came to me so fast 😭 I hope y'all like it lmaoo

#cevans #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #smut #ransom thrombey fanfic #ransom thrombrey #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader #black reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #avengers #captain america #blackexcellence

751 notes · View notes

wonderfilworld · 3 years

Text

Okay guys!! So, the main storyline (not that there's much of one, lol) of Innocent Remus is almost to a close. I'm still going to do little blurbs for the Innocent Remus world (there's still a lot more for him to learn!), however, I wanted to let you guys know what short little multi-parter i'm working on next!!!

Here's a very brief sneak peak of my Sugar-Daddy Sirius series!!! (I'm great with titles, can't you tell? I prefer the plain and simple route what can i say).

And he doesn’t know why he joined this stupid website - maybe it’s just loneliness; he has a nice, big apartment with multiple rooms but nobody to share any of them with. His friends all live hours away so it’s just him and his big black dog - whom he loves, don’t get him wrong - it’s just, a dog can’t quite fill the void a human could, nor could it fulfill the needs Sirius has late at night. He has hookups - he’s a grown man - but he longs for that connection; a solid relationship that lasts more than a couple of hours.

So maybe that’s why he sits in his bed tonight, laptop propped on his thighs as he scrolls through the sugar baby website, hoping to find someone to pay to spend his days with. He has plenty of money - more than enough to buy someone’s time.

And he wasn’t expecting to find a match right away, especially not his first time on the site, but he stumbles upon a profile of a pretty woman, young and lively given her many photographs in nightclubs, and he can’t help but click the biography provided. He reads your interests and he can’t help but chuckle when he reads the “Dog or cat person?” prompt where you’ve written, and he quotes: “dogs, are you fucking kidding me?”

He’s interested, to say the least. So yeah, he clicks the read more on your profile, scrolls through the rest of the pictures. He likes what he sees so he swallows his pride - this is why he joined the website in the first place - and messages you.

sooooo is this something that you guys would like to see???

Literally the biggest shoutout to @juniebugg for always listening to my ideas and encouraging me to run w them ily bestie

#sirius black #sugar daddy sirius

28 notes · View notes

bumbershots · 3 years

Text

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER FIVE: A SPECIAL DAY

Author’s note: Hello! We have finally reached the awaited date between Harry and Alma. I was really excited for this chapter, hopefully you will enjoy it as much as I did, forgive me in advance for any mistakes, my beta reader (my boyfriend) was unavailable, so this is a good time to say that if anyone out there has the time and willingness to beta read any future chapters send me an ask or message to let me know. Enjoy! (:

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.6K **

Harry wakes up feeling excited, nervous and hungry. He takes care of the latter, decides to make some blueberry pancakes, turns out he can't eat more than two and a cup of coffee. Not that the pancakes weren't great, in fact they were fantastic, he even decides to brag about them on an Instagram story that is published for his close friends only. Nick quickly replies to it with a laughing emoji.

You should take a Tupperware full of them to your date ;)

The reason behind his excitement and nerves make his heart race, he decides to type in a polite 'fuck off' to his mate before heading to the shower. Under the warm spray of water he tries to sort out his thoughts. Harry doesn’t want to think about his upcoming trip to California.

It was necessary for the album or so he thought last week, after going through a box with the very few memories he kept from his ex. He wasn’t in a right state of mind then, he feels pathetic. The only reason why he wanted to spend time in Los Angeles was because everything there —from the pavement to the sky— was tainted by her.

Why would he want to go back to that place where the constant reminder of his pain was literally living in the same neighbourhood? Because it would provide him the cathartic release he was looking for. That’s the line he used after Sarah and Mitch tried to dissuade him from flying across the Atlantic and Harry was so proud of himself when it worked.

That very same day, he got the first text from Alma, it was the address like she promised. ‘In case one of your talents isn’t stumbling upon my work place ;)’ the second text read and Harry had to endure Sarah’s questionnaire about the girl that made him blush with a mere wink emoji. Not that he minded talking about her, he could go on all day.

He usually preferred a shower before breakfast, usually even work out before then but well, hunger clouded his judgement earlier today. Even with that taken care of that dread still niggled him away. Just slightly. So, he decided to pick up his guitar for a moment and strummed. There was no real intention to play seriously, or to write anything down on the journal by his desk. It was more of something he enjoys too much not to do it, a way to keep his hands and mind busy, faffing around with chords. With a bit of luck he might come up with a song, a tune which just worked, that just... clicked.

Contrary to what people might believe, genius didn't strike him here and then. Not like when he'd come up with Sign of the times or Two ghosts. But finding a neat little pattern of chords a good thirty minutes later makes him smile, it's something he can work with. It needs a little polishing from Mitch and company, sure, but it has a good rhythm. He scribbled down some notes on his journal and sent the audio to his fellow musician.

Maybe he will find the words in one of the old notebooks that are somewhere in the other room, perhaps on the ones that are still on his unpacked suitcase from Japan. Silently he also hoped to find the lyrics around London. He had lived in the capital for a few years now, but he had been different then. Now he likes to think that he's a man, no longer the teenager from the boy band or the shiny new solo artist. He has new perspectives, sights, smells in this new home of his. New ideas.

Harry gazes out his bedroom window; the view is not great –mostly of the other houses in the complex. His mind focused on the cloudy sky, confused because he swore it was sunny just a few minutes ago, can bet on his life that he woke up to dazzling sunshine rays of a warm yellow colour peeking through that same window. He puts his guitar away on the bed with care and makes a beeline to his wardrobe. He needs to figure out what to wear, pronto.

Skipping her afternoon kip was not something Alma did, it was a rare occurrence which meant one thing: something special was happening.

Walking down Oxford Street, trying to decide where to get some lunch without a care in the world, that was until the calmness faded, when her schedule for the day hit her.

She had a date with Harry. A date, with Harry Styles. It was weird to go by his full name in her head, she couldn't bring herself to call or think about him as The Harry Styles.

Maybe she'd settle to call him Harry the tube guy.

The clock on her phone showed that it was no longer single figure hours, she needed to get some food now or starve until her shift was over, and then he would have to watch her feast at whatever place he chose. Alma groaned, thought how ridiculous it was to worry about him watching her eat. Harry was a grown man; of course he knows that women eat too, right?

Walking into the nearest Sainsbury's she decided to take a deep breath. He's just some guy, she concluded after paying for her chicken baguette. Nothing to stress about.

Harry showered again, while belting out some classic pop tunes. Namely Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears, something that in the past he'd swear blind you'd misheard and it was actually The Rolling Stones or Pink Floyd. But he'd come to terms that he liked what he liked.

Towel clad in the bedroom, trying to shirk off hypothermia, he was quick to put on some pants and jeans, before throwing on some simple white tee proclaiming some fading band name. He uses a dry clean towel from the closet and attempts to dry his hair, as he styles his flopped mop the thought of a haircut crosses his mind. It was getting a bit long.

One last look at the clock and he is ready to leave. "You'll be fine. Trust me." He quietly speaks to himself before closing the last few buttons of his green parka and fixing the newsboy cap on his head.

When he walks out of Colindale tube station, a little earlier than half past five, he sees the bakery from her instructions just below the large modern building Alma was kind enough to describe. She was right; the bakery is right across the street, he waits for the green man to light up to cross, shoving his hands in his pockets. The huge front windows of the establishment allow Harry to see her behind the till, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. She looks better than she did three weeks ago. He hesitates about going in for a few minutes, but feels it ought to be better than to lurk on the street.

Alma can feel his presence the moment he sets foot into the shop, her eyes are drawn to him and a content close lipped smile is the best greeting he could ask from her. The only customer in the place can feel the shift in the atmosphere when they lock eyes. So, picking up her bag full of baked goods, she steps out and leaves them alone.

"Sorry if I'm too early." He begins while she takes off her apron and hangs it in the back wall.

"You're right on time," Alma says after checking her watch, "I'm off Carlos, see you tomorrow!" She hollers to the employee that is taking a non-allowed nap in the back. Harry holds the door open for her and follows out of the warm store. "Shall we take the tube?" At his affirmative response, she then takes out her Oyster card and leads the way.

The café was not somewhere Alma expected Harry to go, the little shop with soothing music and simple stools full of the scent of organic coffee brewing is dazzling and unique. A bit like him, she thinks. She liked it. It reminded her of the places she used to frequent when she had recently moved into the city.

Harry orders a black coffee at the counter before asking Alma what she'd like.

"A cappuccino, and remember I'm paying for our food," she hands him a tenner that he reluctantly takes from her.

"Absolutely," he iterates the order to the woman behind the counter and adds two salted caramel cupcakes handing over the cash. "If you get a seat, I'll bring it over."

Alma thanks him before scampering across the room to sit at the back two seat table tucked in the corner. It was right beside the large back window, dimly lit. Before she sat, she removed her signature burgundy coat and Harry couldn't help his eyes being drawn to certain aspects of his companion. Nice arse, he remarked with a raise of his brows before the woman behind the counter tells him for the third time that his order is ready, a look of disdain as she probably caught his gaze. Giving her a sheepish smile to appease her, he manages to balance the two plates and mugs in his hands and walk over to the table.

"They asked if you wanted whipped cream or foam and I settled for foam, hope that's not a problem." He plonks himself on the seat across from her, removing his parka in a clumsy manner before hanging it in the back of the chair.

"No problem, I actually despise–

"Whipped cream, yeah, I kind of remembered what you told me about that birthday party of yours," the green eyed lad finishes for her and scratches the back of his neck. "You know with that dare..."

Her eyes flickered down to the cupcakes laid out before them and she started picking the caramel out of one, hoping to hide the nerves his words caused.

"Right enough, yeah... I can't believe you remembered that or that I told you about it." She chuckled nervously at the anecdote she chose to share with him, it was a bit inappropriate due to the amount of vomit around it, literally. But he shrugged with a charming smile. No big deal. "Nice place," she noted.

"I know it's a bit of a strange choice. It doesn't strike me as, you know, the kind of place you put so much effort into for a first date..." Harry stops talking and now his eyes meet the cupcake in front of him. "Bollocks I must have sounded so daft, I'm sorry." Lucky for him, she doesn't laugh, instead she reaches out to stroke his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"Nothing to be sorry about, I can be quite daft so..."

"I doubt that Miss suave." He gets a laugh out of her then, one that is almost a snort and earns a few glances from other customers.

"I’m far from it! Honestly, I once accidentally stepped on dog shit and didn't notice until my date couldn't bear the stink anymore and checked my shoe, in a very fancy restaurant. Terrible story. Trust me, I can be daft." Alma held up her hands and the musician giggled at her.

"Promise you won't laugh?" he raised an eyebrow at her, pleading. She promised. "Well, I kind of always wanted to have a first date here. It's always one of the first places I visit when I'm back in London, the food is amazing, and service is excellent. Came here completely hung-over after my twenty-first birthday party. I guess it has a lot of good memories." Pinked cheeks gave away Harry's embarrassment, he wanted to relax and for her to be more comfortable around him.

With a sincere smile Alma placed her hand over his resting on the table. "I think that is very sweet." This reply was not what he had expected; she leant in and beckoned him closer. "For your information Harry, this is exactly a great place for a first date." Up close he swore the darkness of her eyes were about to swallow him whole and spit him out to an alternate universe. He swallowed hard and took a sip of his coffee to distract himself a bit. Perhaps caffeine was not a good choice on a day where his heart was speeding so frequently.

"Did you have a good day today at work?" he asks with a familiarity that Alma can get used to.

"Yeah, had a bit of free time to plan my next video blog. It's been ages since I uploaded one." She bashfully admits. "This cupcake was delicious, a great flavour choice." And just like that they fall into easy conversation until their cups are drained. The place is almost empty around quarter to eight and they both know it's almost closing time –the death glances from the employees behind the counter gave it away. They put on their garments again before leaving.

Harry makes his way to the door expecting Alma to follow. Instead she first gathered up their mugs and plates, to place them neatly on the counter and thanked the three workers behind it with a genuine smile. Harry looked surprised; she didn't quite have to do that. She noticed.

"Just being polite," she stated the obvious, before walking under his arm that held open the door. He chose not to comment and fought back a smile.

They stood outside, not really sure of what to do next. Usually he would suggest going back to his place. It was near, but he watched her yawn discreetly and he suddenly remembered that she had a real job, well actually jobs in plural. He broke the silence.

"It was nice to see you again Alma." He meant it and she smiled as she toyed with the buttons of her coat. British summer weather was hardly cold, but today it seemed to be punishingly windy. Harry near gave a shiver, but instead took a deep breath before speaking again. It was now or never. "It'd be quite great, if I could... I'd like to see you again. Please." He shifted on one foot, nearly drowned in the silence that followed.

"I'd quite love to see you again," Harry gave a slight gulp, very slight and got out strength from the words she spoke to take a big risk, the first of today.

He stepped closer and cradled her face in his hands before leaning down and kissing her cheek. It wasn't the full on kiss he wanted to give her. But it is something he'd been dying to do since he first saw her today, something he hoped would make clear how attracted he was to her. Harry smelled like coffee and caramel. God this man's lips are prettier up close, she thought right before he straightened up.

She stayed close to him before speaking again. A low murmur so that the passing London traffic wouldn't steal her words from him.

"This was an amazing date."

Alma walked with him the long distance of one mile to the tube station, their hands brushing against each other. He was desperate to just hold hers, kiss her soft knuckles and ask about the lightning-shaped scar on her little finger. But decided against it, he knew that West Hampstead was not a common area for paparazzi, but he didn't want to risk her. Especially after the splendid afternoon they just shared.

They said their farewells.

"I'll call you," he said again. She warned that he better, before entering the station, he took great delight in watching her walk away from him, his gaze falling once more to her bum now covered by the coat. Harry spun on his heel and walked the short distance to his home.

Surely London could help him find the lyrics for that tune, this city definitely had something.

///

Let me know if you like the story! *** Join the taglist!

///

TAG LIST: @laurxn-robinson @mellamolayla

#harry styles oc #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry fluff #harry styles ou #a certain romance #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fandom #harry styles fan fic #harry styles golden

25 notes · View notes

guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

'Our scars': New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Our scars"

"We all have a story to tell about our scars, aren't we?"

Chapter Summary: Yirina woke up after facing again a very recent memory of her life, her state looking better on the outside but still struggling on the inside...

Link of the Picrew used !

To read it on AO3, click here!

Words : +3100

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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

That music...it was staying in my head as I was having a feeling to have heard it before in my life, was it...the brainwashing...or something else? No, it had to be the brainwashing, the music was like echoing inside my head, like torture to me even if I was no longer reliving that memory but it all suddenly stop when my eyes slowly opened, breaking me off my sleep for the night. I passed my fingers through my eyelids to speed up the process of having a better vision and discovering which time it was now, the room still darkened with a bit of light coming from the outside.

When I moved my head slightly to look at my nightstand, I realized that I woke early...at 5:47 AM, never managed to get awake at that time and it caused me to sigh, only wanting to go back to sleep as Park was still holding me with her arms, her right hand still well-positioned above my heart. It was bringing me a little smile to have her with me and I wanted to go back into my sleeping mood but there was a little something that was avoiding me as if I didn't want to reface a memory like this...

Slowly realizing that I couldn't close my eyes in fear, seeing myself on that chair while either Stitch or Freya tormenting me for my choices, I decided to get myself up from bed even if it wasn't the time for that, gently removing Park's arms to let her sleep peacefully, and then, gathering my clothes that were still on the ground at my side of the bed to dress up, now wondering what I was going to do: breakfast? Stay on the couch?

It was when I put up my pants that my look got back on the nightstand where I could see Lazar's diary that I didn't look at it for days...since we came back to London from Verdansk, Park having read it all before I had to save her in that bar and since, I didn't read it because I was scared but now, I was curious, curious to see what was written in it. So, when I was finished and ready to get out, I took the diary with me before heading out.

Having it in my hands and it was like I was holding a big weight in my hands, given to what could be written & told inside it about some details I never knew about Lazar. Instead of going directly to get something to eat & drink, I walked to the living room main couch, installing myself on it and I was uncertain to actually open it as what Park saw caused what she did that night but...I needed to know, Lazar was a brother to me...so, I took a deep breath...and I opened it to the next page...

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

Eleazar 'Lazar' Azoulay

1980

Today was a different and weird day to live for me, not because of my status or what I'm fighting for but for things that I will never have to do in my life, the risks we're taking to preserve our interests but also, to preserve what I'm standing for and what I want to believe.

A while ago, there were some rumors of people getting beheaded by a mysterious person and that case was very special to me as it was the first time I was facing such atrocities that a human can do to another one and it shakes me when I learned that it was one of us do.

She used to be called 'Madam Shell', a top MI6 agent that went rogue recently, known to kill some of her victims in particularly gruesome ways, including beheading, and today, I managed to find her in Cyprus all by myself.

My thoughts wanted at first to capture her and bring her to the MI6 for her crimes but something inside of me was saying that it couldn't bring justice for those who suffered from her, so instead of letting her do her life, I did exactly what she did to others: I beheaded her and threw her head in a river.

I know that it was gruesome for me, putting myself into questions of the things I'm doing for the others but I know myself that it was necessary, a sort of poetic justice. I did what's good for me but doing this kinda makes me question my own behavior.

Was I myself becoming someone I don't want to be?

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

It was the first page I saw, the next one as a lot of pages were not here, having been teared up and it was talking about what he did to the person who made Park's neck scar and...it kinda brought a tear to my eyes to see that from him, it was something that put himself to question who he was...it was just troubling to see his writing and his diary after all these years away...troubling...

"Shit, I'm sorry, Laz'," I apologized, closing the diary with my hands along with my both eyes as if that memory I relived with Stitch put back my responsibility in Lazar's fate.

"Yirina?" Park's voice came inside the room, surprising me on my seat, like sending chills in me to hear her voice now. "It's almost 6 AM, why are you awake?" She asked me as she stepped inside, making me turn my head around to see that she was just wearing a simple long shirt with nothing covering her legs and feet.

"I woke up earlier, had a little nightmare," I replied to her, keeping my left hand above the cover of Lazar's diary as Park arrived at my sight in front of me. "You don't have to worry about it," I tried to lie but her face knew that she was seeing through me.

"What's wrong?" She demanded, walking to sit next to me on the couch before her eyes went on Lazar's diary. "You...you read it?" She chuckled at its sight.

"Just one page, just one," I whispered, taking a look at the diary before I decided to put it gently on the little table in the middle of the living room. "The page where he explained his vision on that day that he killed the one who...did it," I explained, my left hand pointing out at her scar on her neck.

"Madam Shell," She muttered, her look still on the diary. "I remember when I talked to you two about it...a few moments before we kissed," She said, remembering that perfectly, one of my first memories I recovered. "I wasn't even sure to talk about it freely, even with you,"

"You said that you weren't proud of it at that time," I remembered her words about it, feeling the pain that she had to face to talk of it. "I don't remember everything but what I could remember was a woman who managed to talk freely about it," I complimented, looking at her with a little smile on my face and her reaction was to put her eyes on me, returning a smile to me.

"I was just opening myself but thanks for it, Yiri," She grinned at me as she was holding her head with her right hand, her elbow on the backrest. "I'm getting over that part of my life but I can't still show it to the others that aren't you," She added in a low voice, her left hand posing slowly and lovely on my lap.

"If you don't want to show it, don't show it," I advised, not wanting to force herself in it. "Me, I got things that I can't hide," I stated, mentioning my scar on my head and the other's one.

"I like it, even if...well, you know," She told me, her voice meaning it despite the context of how I got it.

"Thanks but like you, I'm trying to get over it with no actual possibility to hide it," I snorted, scratching my chin with my right hand. "We all have a story to tell about our scars, aren't we?" I suggested to Park.

"Yes but I'm not sure that some will actually want to know about it if they don't ask," She responded, her left hand moving up along my shirt to get above my heart as she did in the night. "All of our scars are saying a story but are we willing to share them?" She asked, biting her top lip at me but I only raised my shoulders to her, couldn't know how to answer to it.

"If only between me & you, yes but with the others, can't tell," I decided nonetheless to give a little answer to her as she was looking rather curious. "Even if we both know about them, telling them to each other can maybe bring us more closer," I thought of it and she nodded at me.

"Of course," She agreed. "It isn't just thanks to our scars that the two of us are together but yeah, they helped to get us in each other's arms," She affirmed, her left fingers making some little circles around my heart. "As we're up, do you want something? Coffee?" She demanded.

"Well, I just want a coffee and...maybe I would get back on the bed to think freely," I replied, wanting to return to bed for having some clear thoughts.

"Don't move, I'll give you one," She ordered before she landed a soft kiss on my right cheek, and then, going back on her feet to walk towards the kitchen direction.

My mind was getting a bit confused about having to relive that memory with Stitch in that base even at this moment on the couch during my talk with Park of the marks that were on our bodies and inside, I know that there was a little struggling between not thinking of that dream or even about that music that was still getting heard through the very back of my head, almost going to moves my lips according to the song but I managed to hold on.

"Two coffees," Park spoke up as she was coming back in the room with two cups of coffee in both hands, me moving my arms to grab the one she was holding in her right hand.

"Thanks," I said in a low voice after grabbing the white cup in the palm of my hand, feeling the heat of the coffee inside of it and the white smoke coming out.

"You're good?" Park asked me as she got to sit back next to me, holding her own black cup with a little British flag on it in her left hand.

"I was thinking about the memory I relived," I responded to her before taking a little taste of the coffee...milk & sugar...as I love it...

"Can you tell me about it?" She questioned me obviously, knowing well that I was going to tell her about it anyway.

"It was like before: tied up to a chair in Verdansk and facing Stitch," I started, putting my both hands around my cup and looking at it. "Torturing me to make me speak, wondering why I was working with you and managing to know the reason...you," I continued, slowly turning my head around to look at her, taking a sip.

"I'm sorry," She apologized, moving her right hand behind my left shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, not at all," I reassured her about that before looking back at my cup. "He was forcing me to listen to music non-stop, drugging me and trying to make myself responsible for what happened to Lazar," I added, a knot in my chest to pronounce these words as my right eye could see Park stopping in her moves. "Stitch wanted to give me back something I managed to get over,"

"It was never your fault, Yiri, you know that," Park said, keeping her hand on me and I was processing that sentence in my head, wanting to make sure that it was staying...it wasn't my fault. "We...well...no, we can't talk about this," She cut herself numerous times and I wasn't reacting to her as she was right.

"Was it something the CIA did?" I asked her like that, referring to the music.

"What?" She raised both eyebrows to me in a curious way as I wasn't very specific.

"Listening to music, was it something that the CIA used for me?" I clarified my question, wanting to make it clear. "Like...for the brainwashing or the normal interrogations methods?" I gasped at talking about it as normal for me.

"Yes, Adler used it on you...was it...'Staying alive'?" She guessed right as I nodded to her, giving me an answer about one of the things CIA did. "Shit, how did they know about that?"

"Perseus managed to get their hands on some CIA files about me and the MK-Ultra project, surely to either break the brainwashing...or to make a new one," I answered as that part was never put in front of our discussions since we got free. "They wanted to make a new one...and they did worse," I snorted, quickly passing my hand below my nose. "These memories, I don't even remember them...like if they tried to make me forget about it,"

"And somehow, you're living them again," Park thought, moving her hand on the top of my shoulder as I took a sip from my coffee.

"Did they hurt you, you know, after I broke?" I asked her about it, fearing the worst as remembering the day I broke down in front of Freya & Stitch was like falling headfirst from a building.

"Yes, they did," She said, causing me to gasp in sadness, closing my eyes but quickly open them back as I didn't want to see pictures of Park getting hurt in my head. "It was either Stitch or Freya but she was the one doing it the most, it was...more mentally than physically,"

"What did they do?" I chuckled at asking that.

"Freya was angry, wondering why I was playing with you as she was sure that you were loving her but as I was the one to fuck up your life," She alleged, her hands trembling as she put her black cup down on the table in front of us. "She was right for a part but...she wanted to make me realize that I was only here to brutalize you, to make you weak, and to make you forget about her true feelings," She added, sounding like she was going to cry to tell that.

"I don't know what happened but she's seeming obsessed with me as if she couldn't live without having me around," I stated, my right fingers delicately scratching the side of my cup before I decide to finish it entirely. "We got raised like sisters but...she was ready to sacrifice everything and even her relation with Sonya to have me back," I mentioned before putting my cup away on the table.

"Yeah," Park breathed in a very low voice before I turned around to look at her, hiding her face with her hands.

"You're alright?" I asked her and she slowly moves her hands to see that she was silently crying, a tear on her face coming out of her eyes.

"No...I...I'm sorry, Yirina," She broke out in tears before moving her arms around me, our conversation having surely done this to her.

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't have talked about this," I told her in her ear as I was getting my arms around her, to comfort her. "Do you want to go back to bed with me?" I proposed to her.

"Yes, please...please," She pleaded with me but as I wanted to go up with her, she wasn't moving at all from her spot, looking paralyzed on the couch.

I couldn't let her like that so I decided to take her in my arms, holding her in them and getting her bare feet off the ground before starting to walk away from the couch with her inside my arms, hers getting wrapped around my neck to stay well and be sure that she wasn't going to fall on the ground along the way, something that no one wants here, holding her was like seeing myself back when we were escaping Perseus with Sonya's help.

A few seconds later, we reached out our bedroom, opening with one of my free hands the door before moving to Park's side of the bed where I put her on it before I decided to install myself back at my side, staying now with her and cuddling her from behind as the sounds of her cries were still heard in my ears, resisting to not cry.

"I'm sorry, Yirina for what I did," She continued, feeling herself again guilty about everything.

"It's okay, I forgive you, you're forgiven," I reassured her as my arms around her were holding her softly and gently, not wanting to give her much harm. "I can't blame you,"

"You have to blame me, I was there with Adler," She stated in a raised broken voice against me but my only reaction was to only close my eyes and put my head against the back of her neck. "I was there, I helped him,"

"You're forgiven, Park," I repeated to her, giving a comforting kiss on her neck, myself resisting to not cry despite her owns. "You're an amazing person, I know it, Zasha knows it, Portnova knows it, you're amazing," I told her, telling the whole truth to her, she was amazing.

"Rea-Really?" She muttered, my right hand slowly moving towards her neck to touch along her scar in a comforting way.

"Yes, I love you, people can maybe think badly about you but you don't care, I'm here for you," I said in a very serious voice, feeling her skin & scar on my fingers, realizing that it was my first time been the one to comfort. "I love you, that's the main thing here," I affirmed, finally removing any space between us. "For me, you're the best person I've met," I confessed and her reaction was to turn around by herself against me.

"Really, you do think of it?" She demanded in a low voice, her hands slowly crossing to touch my cheeks and I nodded slowly but surely and to add, I kissed her on the lips, proving to her that I was meaning it at 100%

"Yes, you're the one I love, the one I'm protecting," I confirmed after the kiss before I moved my arms around for a big hug, getting my right hand behind her head that was now next to her, wanting to feel her secured with me...

"Don't worry, no one will hurt you with me, no one, you're a good person,"

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #cod bell #black ops cold war #fem!bell #yirina grigoriev #helen park

4 notes · View notes

rosegoldannie · 4 years

Note

I'm a sucker for Feysand, Elriel, and Elorcan so something starting with a fight between them? Idk like they're already together but something happens and one of them thinks they gonna end it or somthing. All angsty and such that ends with fluff because I dont want my heart broken that bad. That make sense and/or sound interesting?

Uh YES!

please send in any prompts you think of, this was sosososo fun! Sorry it took awhile, I just wanted to get it right.

Feyre glanced across their shared living room to see her boyfriend of two years typing away on his phone. As of late, this had become the norm; she would arrive home from work, and he would either be exactly as he was now, or in the middle of a call.

Whenever she asked what he was doing, he would give a half-answer, never really telling her much. At first, she had been unbothered, and assumed that he was speaking with clients from work. But after nearly three weeks of this, she had begun to grow somewhat hurt, resentful even.

She had attempted to distract him, even going to far as to wear some new lingerie to bed, but he had been uninterested, and told her that he was tired, and didn't feel well. Feyre had been disappointed, but ultimately climbed into bed with him.

Turning back to her sketchbook, she continued working on her newest piece: A portrait of her boyfriend, as she had seen him these last few weeks -- almost exactly the same, but with a certain guardedness to his eyes. A closed-offness that concerned her. With the exception of his recent personality change, he was exactly as he had always been: loving and affectionate, constantly showering Feyre with praise and love. And while the logical part of her brain screamed that it was something else, a small, small part whispered that it was because Rhys had tired of her, that she wasn’t enough..

The longer that thought sat in her mind, bouncing around, the more velocity it gained, until it was the only thing she could hear above the roaring of her heartbeat. Not enough, not enough.

Before they had begun dating, Rhys had been somewhat of a womanizer. Always respectful, but also always seeking out a nighttime companion. Had she really expected him to give that up for-No.

No. Rhys loved her. Feyre knew he did. She also knew that he would never cheat on her. Not after Tamlin, therefore it must have been something else.

That stupid, wicked thought still rumbled. Not enough, not enough. Tired of you.

The lead of her pencil snapped with a loud crack!

Feyre blinked in surprise, holding it up for inspection. Rhys glanced up, his gorgeous violet eyes meeting and holding hers. How she loved his eyes, the way they caught and reflected the light, that little spark of wicked humor that flared whenever he told a joke. The way they softened when he smiled, that shimmer of joy and life that was a balm to her weary, broken soul. Gods, she loved him. She would have happily spent eternity gazing into his eyes. Something seemed to shift in their swirling depths, as if he had come to a decision. He motioned to the setting sun now streaming in through their bay window. “Walk with me?” He murmured. His words sent a slight tremor of fear through her, but she forcefully shoved it back.

“Sure,” Feyre replied, tossing her sketchpad onto the table, and pulling on a hoodie.

Rhys gave her a smile. Not huge, but something.

~~~

The setting sun turned their city aflame in gold, as if it had been just pulled from a forge. It turned his normally tan skin alight, as if he glowed from within. Feyre fought the urge to ask if she could go back and grab her sketchpad.

Rhys was near silent as they walked, a noticeable sheen of sweat on his brow. A sickening feeling settled in her gut. He’s going to break up with me, Feyre thought, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets.

Several times, they each tried to make conversation. It always failed, sending a jolt of sadness into her heart. It had never been this way between them before. They had always flowed seamlessly together, always anticipating what the other would say or do next, but completely surprised all the same.

Keeping a slight step ahead, he lead them to their favorite park, where they would sit together and watch the families, sometimes joking about how marriage was undesirable, or planning what they would name their children.

He stopped beside the fountain by which they always sat, and motioned for Feyre to take a seat. She did so, albeit suspiciously. Her fists clenched in her pockets, blue-grey eyes tracking his movements. Waiting.

Despite their relationship beginning as purely physical, those moments in the park with him had allowed her to simply imagine a future in which she was married. Rhys had resurrected a part of her that had perished years prior at Tamlin’s hand. And now she savored every second before he inadvertently destroyed that part of her.

“Alright,” He began, pacing back and forth. Feyre braced herself for the heartbreak to come. “Feyre, we’ve known each other for years, and I swear that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” A warm feeling spread through her, a shy grin on her lips, even as that blasted voice returned. But you are not enough. Not enough. Her grin vanished, but Rhys continued. “I-honestly, I don’t know where I would be without you.” He took several steps toward her, until Feyre had to lean her head back to see him, his voice lowering. Gods, did he not know how his words affected her? How every word was both a balm and a shiv to her broken and fragile heart?

“You brought back a part of me that I was certain had died long ago. Feyre, you made me want to live.” An aching tightness began in her throat, spreading to her chest. Feyre clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the final blow. The blow which would shatter her soul, the soul they had worked so hard to mend. But you are not enough. “You made me become the person I never knew I could be. Without you… Without you, Feyre Archeron, I am nothing. My heart has been yours since before the Universe was created.” He dropped to one knee, hand going to his pocket. “And I will love you until the end of time, regardless of your answer.” He pulled out a small, velvet box. “Feyre, I would crawl across miles of broken glass, swim through lava, anything to see you happy.” He popped the lid open to reveal a simple, sapphire ring. “Feyre Archeron, will you marry me?”

Instantly, her hands flew to cover her mouth. “WHAT?” she hissed, leaping to her feet. This wasn’t a breakup...he hadn't brought her to their spot to break her heart. He had brought her here to declare his love. Rhys was...proposing to her?

Suddenly it all clicked into place. The few times she had managed to catch a glimpse of his phone, he had been searching for rings, or texting Mor about a ‘surprise’. A long forgotten memory surfaced, of when they had first moved in together.

In between carrying boxes up countless stairs, he had pulled her aside, away from their friends. And Rhys had sworn to her that he would never break her heart, that if the relationship were to end, it would not be from him.

Rhys was everything she had never known she wanted: Someone who loved her dearly, supported her passions. He listened to her, he supported her ideas, and called her out on bullshit. He held back her hair when she was sick, and rocked her back to sleep when she awoke from nightmares.

And so Feyre barely had to think before she replied clearly and truly, “Yes.”

59 notes · View notes

shay-iamiam · 6 years

Text

°Still| Part 6°

Pairings: Boxer!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, a lot of emotions

A/N: This is probably not the best thing you've read in your entire life but I'm proud of this little series.

As always thank you for reading my little ol fic!

Part 5

Series Masterlist

| Unsteady By X Ambassadors

“How long do you think she can hold up in there? She hasn't been home in three days.” Sam and Steve watched you through the windows of Bucky's hospital room. You hadn’t left his side in three days. Your eyes hung heavy with bags, the soft glow of your skin was no more.

You began to look like the walls of the hospital. Dull and lifeless. This wouldn’t be Sam sand Steve's first attempt to get you to leave. They’ve tried several times but you still refused to go.

“She’s leaving now. I don’t care if I have to throw her over my shoulder.” Steve walked quickly in the room. He didn't care if he had to drag you out kicking and screening. You where going home tonight.

“Y/n, I think it’s time you go home. I'm not asking you I'm telling you.”. There was a finality in the tone of Steve's voice. You were tired. Trying to pick of fight with him was useless.

During the drive home you drifted off to sleep. The steady lou of the engine louled you easily.. By the time you woke Steve cut the engine of his truck walking briskly to your side of the vehicle.

“Here I can just carry you up." Steve unbuckled your seatbelt.

"I'm just tired Steve, I'm not completely useless." You slowly stared out the truck. Your bones cracked with every movement

Steve watched as you climbed your way up the stairs. He could see the stress in your shoulders, the way you lugged up the stairs it was like you were ok autopilot. Barely there, barely existing.

You stood facing the dark blue door. You remembered when Bucky's convinced you to let him paint that damn door blue.

-------

“Come on Y/n the lady at the store said it matched my eyes.” Bucky blinked his eyes rapidly, annoyingly trying to prove his point to you.

“Yeah she was just try to upsell ya on the door Barnes. Hate to break it to you but you've been scammed babe.” You couldn't fight them smile that crept up on. Watching him as he'd realized that he had been scammed.

“But hey, you're still the prettiest boy to me." You cupped Bucky's chin in between your fingers squeezing lighty. “If that means anything to you." You stuck your bottom lip out. You tried to come off sincere but your blatant sarcasm crept through.

“Am I really? Beard stubble and all?" Bucky pouted like a little kid. Causing you to laugh even more.

“Yes really, even more now with this patchy little beard your trying to grow.”

-------

Turning the key to the door was the hardest part.

You've been avoiding your apartment ever since Bucky was emitted to the hospital. Every corner of the apartment pained you. Every corner was stained with memories of you and Bucky.

You could feel Steve's heavy gaze on the back of your neck. You were touched that he was concerned for you. But you could only take so much pitty. It felt like a permanent fixture in your life. The sad smiles, the knowing glances. All filled with pity.

“Steve you don't have to come in. I promise I'll take a shower and rest for awhile.” Tears began to gather in the corner of your eyes, they were heavy threatening to spill at any moment. You repeat your mantra to yourself.

“If I crack, they crack ."

“Steve really, I can get by on my own."

"I know you can Y/n. Your strong, you've been holding things together for Bucky and he doesn't even know it. But you don't have to be strong all the time. Let me help carry some of the load.” Steves words hit you right in the chest. You turned around almost falling to the ground from the quick movement.

It had been so hard being strong all the time. Smiling and nodding when family and friends told you that Bucky would be in there prayers. You put on a brave face when Bucky's doctors informed you that he may not be the same if he woke from his coma. But you couldn't carry this on your own.

“It's been so hard Steve. I don't think I can go on.. I just need him.. I-I just want him.” You broke down grabbing Steve tight. You tried to keep your sobs inside but they came tearing out of you. All the tears you had bottled up came down falling one after the other.

“I know it hasn't been. I miss him every day. But we have to get through this Y/n he needs us. He needs you more than anything. You can't be there for him if you don't take care of yourself first.”

Steve pulled his sleeves down. Wiping the tears from your face. He encouraged you to breath in and breath out, to gain control of your breathing again. It was no secret your anxiety had gone through the roof since Bucky's accident.

“When's the last time you ate Y/n?” Steve was concerned for you. Not only for Bucky but for you. You had been friends with Steve way before you and Bucky got together. He cared for you than, and he cared for you now all the same.

“I umm… I honestly don't remember.” You hung your head down in embarrassment. You knew you should have been taking better care of yourself. But Bucky was the only thing that invaded your mind.

“It's alright. You go take a shower and I'll make you something while you get cleaned up. Okay?”

"Okay that sounds good.” turning your back towards the front door. You couldn't bring yourself to turn the key and walk in. Steve noticed your hesitation. He wished he could mend your heart back together. But there was only one person who could do that.

“Here how about I unlock the door." Steve hand went out to you gesturing for the key. You passed Steve the key without looking up.

It was now or never.

Steve turned the key slowly, giving you time to brace yourself for the round of emotions you were bound to feel. The click of the door

unlocked as you step through the threshold of your home. Every memory of you and Bucky in this space came rushing back to you all at once.

Your gaze sat up the couch. You thought about all the late nights you had spent there wrapped in Bucky's embrace listening while he spoke of the life he wanted you two to have together.You glanced over the the kitchen.

Every nook and cranny of that small apartment was filled with Bucky. The mugs that never matched, the smell of his cologne, the coffee grounds that were on the kitchen counter. He was everywhere but nowhere at the same time.

The apartment was dim. A sad hue laid heavy over the space. Everything was as you left it, but wrong at the same time.

Steve watched you as you stood frozen in the middle of the living room. He could see every emotions hit you at once. He saw the smile that appeared on your face when you were clearly thinking of Bucky. He could see the pain you felt when you remembered he may not come home again.

There you stood frozen in your grief.

You approached the bedroom door. Your hand stayed still over the knob. But you had to turn it, you had to feel this last emotion. Even if it broke your heart.

You slowly turned the knob, swallowing thickly as you prepared for this. Steve couldn't go in there with you. This one.. this was something you had to endure on your own.

The bedroom looked exactly the same. Not one thing was out of place. The sheets where still the same Bucky's side of the bed was still left undone. You hadn't slept in your

our shared bed since his accident. It didn't feel right laying in bed without him.

You walked over to drawer, rummaging around until you found something that would achor you. Pulling out one of his t-shirts. Lifting the garment to your nose breathing in Bucky's fleeting scent.

The bathroom was the last area of your home you hadn't adventured into. Your mind went back to simpler times. You reminisced on all the simple little things. When Bucky would watch you get ready. The way he'd stare so intensely as you did your hair. Eventually begging you to let him help.

Who knew such a small space could hold the most memories. You stood starting at your reflection in the mirror. You couldn't recognize the woman staring back at you.

Your eyes were sunken in the deep tones of darkness appeared under your once warm and vibrant skin. Beautifully pigmented skin no longer glowed under the lights of the bathroom. Your hair had lost it bounce of curly coily curls.

It was to much.

Your hands fell over the sink as your chest heaved rapidly. Focusing on Sam's words you breathed in deeply and out slowly. You thought the hardest room to be in was the bedroom, but you were wrong. The bathroom made you feel something that you hoped would never come. Grief.

The memory of Bucky and your last shower together took all the air from your lungs.

Your breathing became erratic as you stumbled to the ground. The room wouldn't stop spinning. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears It all came hitting you at once.

You came to the realization that you could live in the world without Bucky Barnes. You missed the moments when you were blissfully unaware of the heartache to come.

And that was to much.

The last thing you heard was your heart beating rapidly. As your vision blurred, your body hitting against the cold tile floor.

Next Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This series is approaching it’s end. This will be my first completed series and I’m having a hard time believing it! I never thought I could finish a series let alone start one. I’m proud of this small little accomplishment.

I hope you all enjoy the final parts to come!😌

Feedback is always appreciated ☄️

Next Part

#bucky x reader #boxer!bucky x reader #bucky x woc! reader #bucky x black reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader!au #au!bukcy x reader #au bucky x reader

46 notes · View notes

empressxmachina · 5 years

Link

by Imperial-Radiance (that’s me)

1|1: Faux Pas, part 1, is also on Wattpad.

"All the shit we do, and this doesn't get any easier."

"It's only because no one does it like we do or... or, ugh, at all, really."

The Center of Colors, the most marveled museum of art in all of Oswana if not the entire world, was a fortress in its own right, and all attempts by a not-so-young maho madam to push open the one door inside it that led to its underground car park were to no avail. The age of the door was a blink in comparison to the building that housed it. Looking past that, it still was not used as proportionally often as originally designed due to 'more preferred' transit options for safety reasons. But, with the particular event taking place there – the biannual meeting of the Continental Couturiers' Council – and a certain, small minority quickly rising up its rankings, putting some oil on the door hinges would have been the easiest courtesy.

Yet, here this lady was, having to force all her might just from an unlocked but still stuck door, adding to the lengthy list of surprises of the night. But she wasn't alone in the struggle.

"Uh, Mel?" a concerned Lyanna expressed, quickly simmering down her tense self after seeing how roughly her best friend was fumbling with the push bar. "You good?"

"Come on! Really!?" Melanie continued to grunt, not allowing herself to give in so quickly, even if it possibly ruined her blazer in the process – not the best look at a fashion event. "What is this!?"

"Damn. If Miss 'Moore Gains, Moore Power' can't open the thing, it really must be tight," Lyanna claimed in jest. She, despite being in similar, unfortunately-formal-for-the-task fashion, joined Melanie's efforts at her side, groaning as she repeatedly rammed her upper arm into the surface like a linebacker. "Maybe, urgh... Lanky Ly can be... a little help."

Melanie was all for the assistance, especially given all the reasons she had to not expect it. But, getting it with a shaded humblebrag, even if jokingly, was not going to happen. A critical look was sent Lyanna's way in protest, and sassy yet complimentary projections soon were, too.

"'Lanky', my ass. How many ball sports... did you say you... played in school again? How many of them... weren't co-ed... before you joined? Which one of us... qualified for... for the... Superhero Circuit... over thirty... on accident!?"

It only took the first rebuttal for Lyanna to regret making her lighthearted comment at all. But, like the mature woman she was, she took it in stride with an apology.

"Okay, okay. I get it!" she stretched through more grouses of strain. "I'm sorry. You happy?" Melanie paused her own pushes for a second to shine a grin at her buddy that epitomized 'I told you so'. Her receiving a set of rolling eyes and a scoff back followed right after, paired with Lyanna taking her exertion efforts to the next level. "But," she resumed, feeling her shoulders start to slide out their sockets, "my athleticism... means nothing if... if it can't help us... get through... the fucking... DOOR!"

Giving in to all of the pressure, the bar lock finally began to budge. However, no one, especially not the designers of the door, ever figured for that much force, let alone by two, tired maho ladies, to be spread across the bar like that. They had much more strength than they realized, or the door was weaker than expected, and before they knew what they were doing, the door flew open out of their grasp, echoing with Lyanna's voice into the mostly empty garage as it slammed into the wall.

Inertia sent Lyanna and Melanie forward, unable to keep balance on their skinny, high heels. Melanie, closer to the hinges, managed to catch herself on a nearby parking barrier, but Lyanna found her stopping place not on the ground or on a structure but instead in the arms of an awaiting security guard.

"Got ya, ma'am," the uniform-donning young man assured with a slight strain in his voice upon catching her. "Are... Are you alright?"

Lyanna sneered at his brief struggle, knowing fully well that she wasn't that heavy until she realized it was not due to her at all, at least not completely. In the distance, the door to the office where all of the watching camera footage was housed was wide open with most screens showing the three of them right then. If he had been watching the ladies' struggles until not long ago and decided to help for himself, then he would've had to run to reach them in time. Looking at his tired but quickly recovering state, he probably did that, just slightly too late and switching to a catcher's role in the heat of the moment.

Getting over the drama of it all, Lyanna gave her savior some solace as she rose and composed herself. "Yes, thank you. I... I'm fine."

"Not as much as you, cutie pie," Melanie winked at the guard with her down-home charm, to which he returned a bashful gasp. "What's a handsome soul like yourself doing out on the town late on a weekend alone, guarding C-Cubed at CC, no less?"

"I, uh," the young lad had trouble finding the right words.

On one hand, getting a compliment was always nice, especially if both lighthearted and likely to result in an extra tip. On the other hand, if he egged it on too much, then it'd just be asking for a bunch of double-sided trouble for way too many reasons to count. Aware that he couldn't leave her hanging, he replied with something reasonable in between.

"I-I'm just working to pay for school, ma'am, getting what I can, whenever I can." He smoothed the wrinkles in his suit, hoping to worsen his seemingly bad first impression. "I'm not even a guard. I'm more like a concierge, though I can drive people around, too, so I don't even know if that's even the right term." He quickly recognized he was right on the cusp of rambling about his nondescript job position and soon reverted to a more robotic, reserved offer. "A-Anyway, shall I call you two a car?"

"You can do better than that," Lyanna surprisingly interjected, stretching her back with a backward, propped bend. "I'll call your bluff. Drive us home, then. The two of us aren't too much for you in this big city, are we?"

If Melanie's comment sent blood to the guy's face, then Lyanna's did the opposite, blanching it bright from assertive surprise. Though, knowing who they were and what they were known for, such responses were expected in the back of his mind. Nonetheless, he caught Lyanna's declaration of the challenge and accepted it.

"Let me, uh, just grab a key from the station," he stated, pointing back toward the office, "and we'll be on our way. Choose any one of the vehicles by the wall you like, and I'll meet you there."

Like a hummingbird, he zoomed away to grab the nectar of his choosing, leaving the two ladies to converse and corner a car... all the while cutting each other down.

"You were not just charming that child, were you?" Lyanna pressed, strutting over to her friend. "He's young enough to be either of our children, and I know you're not that crazy."

"Of course not, you dunce," Melanie defended, with an eye roll, offended being typecast from a simple false flirtation. "Like I'd court a kid to have a good time." She managed to get a chuckle out of her best friend as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the back of one of the vans. "I'm trying to make that young man into a mannequin. You don't think he'd be a good look for the new line?"

"It's less that and more 'You couldn't have asked more normally?'"

"What's more fitting than looking for fashion models at a meeting for fashion designers?"

"I don't know, giving out a business card and telling him to call you at a normal hour? Damn it!" For a second, Melanie thought that Lyanna was actually mad at her. But the pause just turned out to be a dramatic one, replaced by more giggles. "Damn you, innovative bitch."

Melanie soon joined into the laughing fit. "You know it. See? I'm always making money moves, even if people don't agree with my vision."

Her wording was too specific for it to not be related to and reignite the tensions acclimated over the duration of the meeting she had to hide behind glossy lips and gritting teeth. "We're back to talking about what we were before we found ourselves fighting the architecture, huh?"

"We do too much for too little reward, apparently. Is that what you said?"

"Not... exactly," Lyanna hissed, clicking every T with purpose, "but you're not wrong, either." Leaning back against the trunk, thankful for a siren not going off in the process, she looked up at the ceiling and processed her thoughts. Her memories of the evening.

Drinks. Hors d'oeuvres. Designs for two seasons from now. It wasn't much different than usual. Lyanna's peers had finally gotten used to how she ran her business after so many years of it 'not evolving' except in styles. But it was just tolerance rather than full-on acceptance, and the constant stares and murmurs that they seemed to throw in overtime toward her tonight garnered an equal reaction back: allowed but never wanted.

The worst part of it, aside from the blatant prejudice behind Lyanna's doings, was that they never considered why she does it. Seeing things from her and maybe Melanie's views would be more help than harm. Though, given how they got where they were, they'd forever be oblivious unless she made a scene.

While the two prim pals measured the parking deck to easily house multiple homes, it was barely worthy of an under-bed shoe organizer to the khadra: the larger, other halves opposite their maho selves with whom they shared the world. Well, their nation, at least. One couldn't be sure about the rest of the planet nowadays. Even so, everything Lyanna lived and worked for, no matter how high she rose, would forever be under their noses, perhaps even underfoot.

Simply thinking back to the dastardly door, once again, only made her more upset, remembering how it was basically a metal slab wedged within floor molding shadowed by a nearby stand. The Council could've paid someone to at least act like a security for smaller folk, but the fact that the Center kept their half of the deal was a little reassuring.

Probably one-twelfth of what her full pleasure banks could hold: the standard fraction.

"Sure, we get flooded in respect for our abilities," Lyanna commented, still gazing toward the above ground, "but it's just a cop-out. The collabs we do are never enough; they want more out of us. It's like they assume we have to give them everything not because they deserve it or because it's right but because they're fucking—"

"Ah, here we go," the young guard cut in, to Melanie's favor. Having known her bestie for two decades, she knew he had shown up right on time and prevented an imminent Lyanna explosion. Jiggling his keychain with a glowing smile as he unlocked the van's doors, sidewinding the looks of respective relief and heat diffusion on the ladies' faces, he was completely none the wiser. "We're ready for action. If you'd allow me..."

Continuing his act like a gentleman, he opened the doors for the two women, first Lyanna on the passenger's side of the backseat and then Melanie seated right behind him. Considering they thought they were simply in for a glorified taxi cab ride, they had quite the shock seeing how decked up the innards of the vehicle were. It wasn't a party bus or anything resembling a limo rented for a promenade, but the selection of fun-sized snacks, drinks, and reading material, on top of how comfy the seats and lighting were, was a sight to behold.

The ladies were greatly impressed all around, quickly sharing a look of wonder with each other, but the oblivious driver wouldn't be able to see that, focused only on the job at hand. Plus, the sight of Melanie on her phone and Lyanna already sipping on a tiny water bottle as she looked out her window gave no hint to it, whatsoever. He was happy to see them fully adjusted, totally bounced back from their tumbles and fumbles, and it irked him that he might break that calmness for the last necessities of his job.

"I do apologize for this, but I almost forgot," he said, looking in the rear-view mirror at them as he started the engine. "The Center of Colors has this policy where the drivers have to get crossed confirmations for—" His declaration faltered at the ladies' look of confusion at his jargon, thus needing clarification in common, much more comfortable language. "Basically, they want two forms of authorization for each passenger. Usually, a quick clip where you say your name or something like that should be fine. I know who you are, and I'm sure most others do, too, but it's the tradition. If you wouldn't mind...." He pressed a button on his controls and started recording, signaled by a light on his rear-view mirror and a mechanical bloopy noise. "...giving a quick roll call."

The two thirty-somethings looked at each other, both not saying a word and both testing each other to see who would crack first. After what felt like forever, emphasized by the driver's nervous coughing and wheel tapping to crack the silence, and in a noble act of succession, the first to introduce themselves was,

"Melanie Moore."

Melanie Moore. Chief marketing officer. Queen of advertising. Flirtatious firecracker. Part-time yogi. Slayer of Oswanian style boundaries with her pop-up collections like her golden-hued 'Code Mellow'. C-Cubed's 'Best New Designer' a few years ago because of them. She was happy to have made a name for herself, specifically under her own name, but she knew and never denied that she'd never be where she was if it weren't for,

"Lyanna Paulson." Lyanna fucking Paulson.

Naturally a brunette. Currently a blonde. Visible exercise and sports fanatic. Drink connoisseur. A flash celebrity made in the blink of an eye all based on luck. The epitome of nouveau riche. The youngest member to have been inducted into C-Cubed (and receive its BND award like Melanie) back when she was twenty-four. The Designer of the Year not long after. Melanie's best friend. Also, Melanie's boss, technically, but she rarely states that aloud. She was a lot of things and known for many more. But she was a household name for two.

Her fashion and design company 'Moonsong', along with its occasional luxury dabbles via 'Lunar Serenade', was going fifteen years strong with top sales and quality. Yet, in all of those fifteen years, with the exception of collaborations with industry peers and the even more occasional one-offs, every product was strictly for maho, leading to an aura of presumed racism constantly washing over her.

The two buddies bickered back and forth on the openness of their projects to those that towered over them, each having solid reasons for their views. But, with Lyanna having more say and severity, it always went her way. The threats and attempts of harm that were sent her way in the beginning when people realized her khadra-closed doors weren't just a phase, along with a few every now and then, weren't fun to experience. But even her miffed adversaries and confused familiars had to give her props for standing her ground and defending the safety of her staff, and each trouble always seemed to dissipate as quickly as it came.

That, and all of her giving back to just as many khadran causes as native maho ones helped, but people just seemed to always gloss over that.

Lyanna, even with her brief smile into the camera and mic, was still fuming from the event, and thinking of all her conflicts leading up to it wasn't making it better. Luckily for her, Driver Boy seemed to catch that, even with his back turned. Pushing her was the last thing he wanted to do. He just hoped his body could follow his heart and mind.

"I, uh..." he struggled to speak at first, seeing the coldness in Lyanna's eyes as she gazed into the camera. But that soon passed over, and his goal to make sure the drive did the same launched in full force. "I know you two must be looking for privacy going through the garage," he observed. "It's good that I know some scenic routes around the city. So, please make yourselves comfortable, and enjoy the ride."

Melanie had already found her way back to phone diving toward whatever as the van left the safety of the parking deck and, for the pair of couturiers, waved goodbye to C-Cubed for six months. The carpooling posse simultaneously passed under the art museum's overly cheerful exit sign, getting an eye roll of her own out of Lyanna.

'Thank you for visiting the Center of Colors!' it expectantly exclaimed. That farewell stayed still on the sign, but its lower half in all its mechanical glory had to show off, switching between presumably planned puns every few seconds. The trio managed to go under just as one went off – 'We hope to color you impressed once again really soon!' – and another took its place – 'May we brighten your day with flying colors upon your return!'

The wish for any sort of spectrum wasn't necessary as the aura around was still lively and beaming, perhaps being that last thing Lyanna's somewhat buzzed, water-guzzling person needed in her face.

"Hello, Xesant," she sarcastically greeted the outside world. "Glad to see you're still lively on a Sunday night." From its art-bordering white LEDs to the rainbow of marquees and HIDs along the streets, it was back to the big city they knew so well yet still a long way from home.

Xesant. A city nearly ten million strong by itself, and it looked like all of those citizens had filled the sidewalks like a sardine tin. A gem of Oswana, the city was, despite not being its capital. Half a tourist trap and half a modern marvel... and everything no one would've thought Lyanna would've submerged herself in for two decades. Luckily, she had Melanie by her side through it all, but she only eased the tension, not rid her of it.

She'd never be rid of it as long as she lived there.

Oswana was right at, if not itself being, the intersection of the planet's two historically opposite halves together: the more land- and khadra-filled northern Drakh and the sparser southern Hoemue with the maho. Time followed its course, and the communities came together, finally coalescing at the major metropolis literally on the equator between them: Lyanna's anxiety-driving abode.

Out of all the places in the world, Oswana, especially Xesant, had managed to optimize integration to a T, and it still amazed Lyanna after twenty years seeing it all work in action. It just made no sense in her head.

Watching vehicles and souls that were the size of houses pass by so strongly yet swiftly and never be in the way. Alternating stoplights and substitute paths for both sizes for undisrupted travel. Mismatched yet complementary pairs of windows, doors, and on every building for everyone to have a place to take in their surroundings. Blended groups – a surprisingly large minority – somehow walking in pace with each other, neither too fast nor too slow.

That one khadran girl crossing directly in front of the van – shoes taller and possibly heavier than the vehicle itself – with a maho in hand, losing her balance, and managing to fall with a resonating thud toward the Moonsong troupe with both her companion safely cupped to the chest and all her long and loose limbs snaking between all the tiny cars, including their van, on their side of the road.

All of this at once, emphasized by a cacophony of horn blaring and muffled, concerned voices. Yet, as Lyanna drank her way through more than a handful of bottles in seconds at the sights, the driver didn't even flinch, and Melanie may not have even noticed. Her lockage in her phone was made even more apparent by her following statement, cracking the lull of silence within their four, glass-peeking walls.

"Oh, look," she announced, sliding her phone over to Lyanna's vista. "In case you cared..."

With her nonchalant tone and apparent lack of awareness for her surroundings, even as the driver drove around the still collapsed cohorts, one could've assumed she found an article pertaining to the current slip and trip debacle outside that looked a lot like fake news if it weren't actually true. However, her carelessness was genuinely due to the routine with C-Cubed finally updating their social media and website with details from the meeting's latter half. What particularly caught Melanie's and now Lyanna's eyes was the results of the unimportant-aside-from-a-trophy, aptly named superlative voting, 'In Case You Cared'.

Lyanna usually didn't care enough to view them as soon as they were posted, regardless of having voted herself, mainly waiting until the next morning to see what any newcomers had to offer. However, with Melanie thrusting them in her face, she knew it had to be something interesting. Lo and behold,

"Congrats, Ms. 'Styled and Profiled,'" Melanie praised her bestie, who looked more or less unenthused except for an eyebrow raise. The 'Styled and Profiled' Award. Something between Best Dressed and Most Pulled Together, in the corporate sense. At least, that's what they said it meant. "The glassware company for the awards should just sponsor you at this point. Damn. What is this, your third time getting this? Fourth?"

"Seventh," Lyanna lifelessly corrected, pushing the phone away, "not that it matters." Considering how many times Lyanna earned it, with her reputation, it was probably neither in reality. "Your look is way better than mine. This was probably a brownnosing move, trying to be hyperaware of the culture or whatever."

Melanie chuckled at first at her snide remarks, until she reviewed exactly what Lyanna had said. With every word, she found more and more wrong with her perspective. Was she self-deprecating? Did she genuinely think she was right? What the fuck did she mean by them being 'hyper-aware' of her when no one other than them two knew why someone would even have to be? Melanie retracted her phone and sat in her seat, waiting for any clarifications, but none came, leaving her to ponder for herself with a stony stare. Unfortunately, as much as she tried to do otherwise, only unsavory ideas came to mind. For Lyanna's sake, Melanie hoped, if they turned out to be true, they weren't due to—

"Excuse me, Ms. Paulson, if I may..." Before Melanie had a chance to rebuke, question, or instantly judge her friend's suspicious commentary, the driver felt the need to interject. Luckily for all involved, it had no faults and raised the subconscious heating mood. "...I think you look great."

Lyanna's brows raised at the compliment, and Melanie joined her in shock, though she was more impressed as his bravery in speaking out of turn. He didn't realize that meaning upon looking back at them, seeing their expressions. He figured they were from him only recognizing one of them as opposed to both, and thus he made an addendum.

"N-Not that you don't, too, Ms. Moore," he nervously saved his hide, spouting a just-as-shy smile. "I just—Uh... you both probably earned it, okay?"

Lyanna's face stayed blank, but the driver immediately blushed at the sound of a tip being sent to his phone. Looking behind him to Lyanna's left, Melanie wore a grin of her own as her phone confirmed a scanned QR code and a quick transfer of payment.

"You're already paying him when he hasn't even signed on, yet?" Lyanna inquired, shooting the driver a smug look before turning toward the window... and cringing again at the mongrelized mania of it all. "But, hey, at least you have a good eye on you, wanting to represent the company with people that actually wear our stuff."

The redness on said subject's face instantly flushed back to his natural pallor. From a distance, there was nothing that discerned his uniform from that of any other worker at the Center of Colors. In fact, his pants and polo combo were exactly the same as any other's. But each soul was allowed a few extra freedoms employees had via accessories, body modifying, etc., and he did take part in that. As subtle as he tried to be in doing so, there were sprinkles of a certain brand down his person.

There was no way for them to go unnoticed by their head designers...especially with their owner catching them in his arms as a first impression.

"Uh, yeah," Melanie replied matter-of-factly. "He obviously knows how to read a room, er, van... and speaking of..." Going restless, once again, Melanie relocated to her seat's edge, setting a hand on the driver's chair back. "Hey, uh, I don't think you actually introduced yourself. What did your code say? Bryan? Bradley?"

"Br-Brenden, actually," the driver corrected, at least relinquishing anonymity. "I can't believe you noticed my gear."

He ran a hand across the small charm at the helix piercing on his left ear that matched a ring on his opposite hand, both pieces from a years-old collection. He would've twirled his feet and ankles around, too, showing off their extremely new shoes, both in age and ownership, but driving kept them still. The job correspondingly reminded him of a concern that was sure to get him penalized if he didn't address it soon.

"I also can't believe I haven't asked where I'm supposed to take you two," he chuckled, attempting to hide the ringing of his inner panic alarm. "Where did you have in mind? The Moonsong office?"

The ladies looked at each other briefly – Melanie slumping back again to face Lyanna head-on – to make a choice. The mistress of marketing implied, "I wouldn't mind heading there. It's not like we can do a late- or half-day tomorrow if we run super late doing random bullshit." A smirk briefly popped on Lyanna's mug. "Though," Melanie then countered, thus dropping said smile, "there were some, uh, biz things... I wanted to talk to you about."

"And, it's nothing you can't screen me at home?" Lyanna fought. By her tone alone, Melanie knew her idea had pancaked. "Mel, I love you, but I want to go home, sleep, and forget today."

The night had gone somewhat uncomfortably for them both, despite Lyanna's award, so she couldn't be blamed for not wanting to deal with anything anymore. But, Melanie shuddered, knowing how much more difficult things were going to become from it. She didn't want to make it worse, so she kept it to herself.

"A-Alright," she conceded. "I still want to head there. Your place in deeper inward, anyway, so I can get Brenden here to circle around and stop on by for a bit before going back to CC." A mutter of acceptance poked out of Lyanna before Melanie, at last, gave Brenden a destination. "Just head on over to T-Sa if you can, please. At least close enough to where Ly won't fall on her face if she'll need to walk."

The implication of inebriation was concerning, and the increased reference to some Moonsong deal was hyped as hell, but of all things to catch Brenden's attention, Lyanna's home was the showstopper. A fitting one but a surprise, nonetheless.

"You live at Sat Ave!?" he gasped, beaming through the rear-view mirror at her.

T-Sa. Sat Ave. Ten Saturn Avenue. One of the ritziest and private locales in all of Oswana, in spite of it being one of the most noticeable silhouettes in the lower Xesant skyline. Lower mutually in latitude and the height of its inhabitants. Only maho allowed. It was a sight to behold, but to Lyanna, it was the one place she could call her own. A fortress to be reckoned with. Literally.

"If you say anything," Lyanna hissed, jerking her eyes to Brendan's with a glower that could crack glass, "I will end you."

"Uh... I... N-Noted." Like the lapdog he was and now felt like, too, he complied, focusing back on the roads, pinning down the complex in his mental GPS, and heading on his way.

Melanie groaned at Lyanna's aggression, but rather than calling it out, she simply rolled her eyes and let it be. After all, from what it looked like, she had a long night ahead of her, and all of her energy should be saved for then. Well, most of it. The quietness that had encroached in the van quickly grew uncomfortable, leading to soft small talk between the driver and the fully-present passenger.

Lyanna let her eyes close, taking away the towering shadows and reverberations of titanic travel on all sides. The escapism, though brief, was blissful, opening opportunities to ponder plans for the upcoming week and beyond.

As they distanced themselves from downtown, the ratio of khadra decreased to nothing. The signs and sights of the borough where she burrowed on the daily shined to greet its golden girl. Through her slumber, it was easy to see her body adjust to its most familiar surroundings. Perfect tranquility... but it, unfortunately, had to end.

Brenden pulled into the drop-off lane of Ten Saturn Avenue, where a doorperson approached the van to help her out before halting and waiting outside her door, made aware of her still napping self. Melanie, risking a slapping fit her way, bit the bullet and rocked Lyanna back to the real world. Her waking softness resembled that of a baby; however, her too-old-for-this-shit sentimentalities soon broke through, along with the groan-inducing headaches that should've been here a long time ago.

"Welcome back, L.P.," Melanie greeted, thanking the gods for a passive awakening. "It's your stop."

A sequence of incoherent mumbles entered the airspace as the drowsy damsel attempted opening her door. The doorperson, seeing those multiple failures, eventually aided her exit, grabbing a hand then bracing around her back. Melanie, meanwhile, made out everything she was trying to say – a skill she had perfected after twenty years of tipsiness – amalgamating it all into a simple assurance,

"Nah, don't worry. You don't have to do anything. I've got this." Lyanna, even in her word salad of a mind, didn't feel too sure of that. But a quick kiss of valediction on the cheek sent her way made all those worries vanish and replaced them with giggling. "Now, get up there before you pass out."

More laughs ensued, but Lyanna eagerly obeyed, blowing a kiss back as her doorperson led her away. "Don't stay up too late, Mel!" she directed. "You, too, Brenden! None of us need eye bags."

Brenden, almost too in awe of the glamorous complex to catch her speaking, was surprised to be included in the farewell, even more so with a happy tone. Nonetheless, he appreciated it whole-heartedly, joining Melanie in waving her goodnight as she disappeared from view.

He took some time to calm from his high-fashion high before setting his course to Moonsong. However, before he drove off, Melanie locked him in place, reaching from the back to the steering wheel. He started to panic again, not even considering the presumably sweeter of the dynamic duo as a threat. The look on her face clearly showed a hidden craftiness that curdled his blood. Little did he know that none of it had to do with him.

No, actually, it slightly did. That cash drop Melanie made to him allowed for some new insight to reach her. He was more than qualified for plans she had had in the works for what felt like forever. His future modeling was only the tip of the iceberg, and she proved it by asking the last question along that path he ever expected to hear,

"Hey, Brenden, you had an order for alterations recently... but it wasn't for you, was it?"

#g/t #my writing #the high low life #faux pas #sw #fashion bitches #angst and cattiness but make it fashion... and with size differences

1 note · View note