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starlitiris · 14 days ago

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“Imperfect Hatred” ~ (Sebastian x Reader)

Summary: A little while after you pass Sebastian’s shop, you mysteriously run into him again. And just in time, by the looks of it.

Notes: The prompt for this chapter was suggested by LukeySkywookie in the comments on the last chapter on ao3!

If it ends up being a terrible then I blame the fact that I worked a 9 1/2 hour shift yesterday. Yippee!!!! A little heads up, you might be out of character if you hate squiddles and not-so-imaginary friend

Also the title was inspired by Ultrakill i LOVE REFERENCING THINGS WITH CHAPTER TITLES please enjoy my goofy ass writing <3

ALSO NOT TO MAKE THE NOTES TOO LONG BUT I PROMISE I’M WORKING ON MORE PAINTER x Y/N JUST HANG IN THERE COMPUTER KISSERS I GOT U

~ 🦈 ~

Sebastian was just out scavenging for data and supplies when he stumbled upon you by pure, unfortunate coincidence. He didn’t think the navi-path would lead you in this direction, but alas, here you are. Lovely. Just when he was finally enjoying some alone time.

He watches you search through all the drawers and shelves in the room. You shove whatever you can find into the bag given to you by Urbanshade with the intention of collecting assets. A smile paints your face when you find an orange vile alongside a stack of files and USBs.

How pointless. You’re just going to die soon, anyway. Don’t you get that by now? Any kroner you’ll get from having that crap on you is completely useless. It does nothing for you. You can buy all the supplies and ferry coins you want with that stuff, but you’re still going to die. You always do. Why bother picking things up after you pass his shop? Are you really that stupid? He’ll never understand you.

As much as you frustrate him, he finds your ignorance and determination… amusing. If he were in your position, he would’ve given up a long time ago. But here you are. Nearing your 50th death, and still aiming for that crystal with a stronger will than what you started with. He cannot fathom why.

You had no idea he was watching you. The only way you would know he was there is if he wanted you to know. Large as he may be, he’s gotten very good at sneaking around undetected since the lockdown started. He’s a lot more quiet than you would think.

Whilst pondering your infuriating inability to simply give up, he decides it wouldn’t hurt to stick around for a bit. Just to see how you get on. And to collect anything you might have missed while making your way through the blacksite.

When you enter the next room, he follows not too far behind. He watches you check for dangers, collect assets, and move on to the next room. He keeps stalking you, watching you repeat this process every time you open a new door. This was all routine for you – something you were now able to do without giving it much thought. Aren’t you miserable, doing this day in and day out? You really are a pain in the ass.

You could feel his eyes on you. An uneasy feeling of being watched that you couldn’t shake crept up your spine.

This experience wasn’t new to you by any means. Something was almost always watching you, if Urbanshade wasn’t. Cameras were littered all over this wretched place. But this time, something just felt… different. And you couldn’t for the life of you explain why.

You had gotten used to the feeling of being watched by now, but the unfamiliarity that you couldn’t quite place your finger on unsettled you. It had you looking over your shoulder more frequently than you usually would.

Sebastian took notice of this. Not that it bothered him, though. You wouldn’t be able to find him. He knew that. It did mean he would have to be more careful to stay hidden, however. He didn’t want you to know who your new stalker was.

You kept trying to ignore the feeling, forcing yourself to stop looking over your shoulder after some time. It was just making you feel more paranoid. Whatever was watching you, if anything, definitely wasn’t going to show itself if it hadn’t by now. You just hoped it wouldn’t be what ended your run.

Soon enough, you found a temporary distraction from that paranoid feeling. A little red remote, hidden away in a small locker. A soft gasp leaves you, and you pick it up.

“Imaginary Friend!” You smile, handling the little toy with care. You’re about to press the button on it, but you stop before you can push down on the soft silicone. You frown. “Aww… I probably shouldn’t. I’m sorry my beautiful angel princess, but I don’t want you whispering about things crawling in my skin while I’m already feeling really paranoid. Sorry…” You gently place the remote back where you found it.

Wait.

Pause.

You actually like that thing?? What the hell is wrong with you?

Sebastian grimaces as you walk away from the locker, genuinely looking sad and guilty- what the hell is wrong with you??? That thing is FREAKY and WEIRD, and you’re apologizing to it when it probably can’t even hear you?? What on earth do you have to be sad about?? It probably doesn’t care, and likely doesn’t even know you found the remote!

You sigh a big, sad sigh and look for the next door to open. You are fucking strange. Sebastian shakes his head at you. What a moron.

A few rooms later, you find yourself in a large area with all the lights out.

“Great,” you mutter bitterly and pull out your flashlight. You traverse carefully through the open area, making sure you don’t trip or bump into anything. You groan, loud and annoyed when you reach the door to the next room and find that it needs a keycard. Wonderful. Splendid. Time to backtrack.

Sebastian stifles a chuckle. Your poor idiot.

After searching around for almost 5 minutes and wasting nearly all of what remaining battery power you had in your flashlight, you finally hear that satisfying buzzing sound that emits from the keycards for some reason. You sigh in relief and turn off your light, hoping you can find it on sound alone.

You follow the buzz, inching closer and closer until you reach a wide cabinet with a single thin drawer right beneath the top of the furniture. You eagerly open the drawer and scan the interior for that stupid piece of plastic. You’re barely able to spot it in the darkness, but you see it on the far right end of the drawer. You move in to grab it, but stop when a loud hissing starts right in your ear. You look up and are met with one of many familiar glowing white faces, inches away from yours. You jolt and stumble away from it as soon as you process that you were toe-to-toe with a squiddle.

“Dammit!” You look at the keycard after the squiddle calms down, then look back to where you saw its face. It is standing directly in front of the keycard. ��Why can’t you just move??”

Sebastian had to cover his mouth so he didn’t snort out loud at your persisting misfortune. He’d like to see you get out of this unharmed.

This has happened to you once before. You know if you're quick, you can just grab it and go. You can do this. It won’t be fun, but you can do it.

You take a deep breath to brace yourself, then quickly move forward and slap around the inside of the drawer to find the keycard again.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” You repeat as the hissing starts up again, getting louder with each passing second. After desperately failing to pick up the piece of plastic way too many times, you’re able to pick it up and throw yourself back just in time before the squiddle attacks you. You let out a big, exasperated breath.

“Fuck!” You look at the squiddle again once you’ve recollected yourself. “Sorry, buddy… didn't mean to invade your personal space like that.”

… What.

Did you…

Did you just apologize? To the squiddle?

The Not-So-Imaginary Friend is one thing, but the squiddles? Those are actual threats. They can, and have, killed you. More than once. You have their full document to attest to that. Hell, it could’ve been this specific squiddle that caused one of your past deaths. But you are honestly, sincerely apologizing to it for ‘invading it’s personal space’? You have GOT to be braindead or something.

You unlock the next door.

Sebastian is baffled. Baffled, and quite frankly, very angry with you. There is no room for kindness down here. Nobody wants to be your friend, nobody wants to see you succeed, and nobody wants your goddamn apology. All this place has ever known is misery and hostility. Everything is out to get you. You have over 40 deaths at this point to prove that you aren’t naive to that.

This place has tortured you. Not once has it ever shown you a fraction of the kindness he’s just witnessed you showing it. Since the first time you arrived on that submarine, you have been burned, drowned, electrocuted, beaten, consumed, crushed, mutilated, drained of life, and shot dead more times than you could count.

Even Sebastian himself has killed you once before. Given you might have deserved it – even though he was egging you on as well that day – but even after that, you still try to be nice to him when you have it in you to be. You’re polite to him. You never try to touch or climb him like he’s some animal at a petting zoo. The run he killed you on was the only time you ever flashed him with the flash beacon. On most of your runs, you buy shit you don’t even need if you have the data for it. He knows you only do this to give him more research. He doesn’t understand why, but he knows you do it. Nobody needs a lantern and a normal flashlight when they already have a hand crank one.

You are kind. You’re kind, determined, gentle, considerate, funny… a breath of fresh air. He desperately wants to understand how somebody like you can exist in a world so cruel and unforgiving.

He can almost admit that he’s fond of you. Almost. Maybe he would be able to if you didn’t make him so angry.

It’s every man for himself down here. Why don’t you get that?

Why waste your time caring about anybody but yourself?

You won’t survive like this.

You haven't been surviving.

If there’s any chance at all that you could get that crystal and leave with it, he’s certain you won’t be able to do it if you keep going on the way you have been.

It doesn’t do you any good. He would know better than anyone.

Nobody is on your side.

The next couple of rooms are uneventful. The lights were all out, so you didn’t have to worry about anglers or Pandemonium. You had put a new battery in your flashlight at this point so you could see where the hell you were going. You were back into your rhythm. Look for dangers, check drawers, find the next door, repeat. Like it’s second nature to you.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you enter a room with the lights on. You turn off your flashlight, and proceed with your routine.

A gross, wet sound assaults Sebastian’s ears – or lack thereof. Looking in the direction of the sound, he spots exactly what he expected to see.

A wall dweller. Gross.

He looks back toward you to see if you heard it as well, only to find you still opening drawers for loose assets. Apparently you hadn’t, then.

Sebastian watches the wall dweller slowly creep up behind you while you’re none the wiser.

He stares. Intently.

You’ll hear its footsteps any second now, surely.

Surely.

… Why are you still checking drawers.

Sebastian squints. The wall dweller is nearly on your heels- are you not paying attention?? Where is your head?!

A wave of panic washes over Sebastian as the wall dweller is right on your tail, reeling back with an open mouth to kick you down and take a good chunk out of your neck.

You’re looking through yet another drawer.

The wall dweller lifts its leg.

It braces itself to kick the back of your knee, and-

KRRKNCH!

The loud sound startles you, and you whip around immediately to see what it was.

Sebastian was behind you, snarling over… what you think used to be a wall dweller. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.

You stare, shocked.

He makes eye contact with you.

He looks panicked for a brief, fleeting, almost unnoticeable moment before he stands up straight to recollect himself. He wipes the wall dweller remains on his hands off on his jacket, cringing in disgust at the carnage he caused.

“Why don’t you pay attention next time? Considering what I almost just had to witness, I’m shocked you even made it this far,” he snaps, ignoring how befuddled you are to be seeing him outside of his shop.

“You.. when the hell did you get here?!” You question, rightfully confused.

“I was just passing through. And by the looks of it, you’re lucky I was,” he mockingly grins.

“Really? Just passing through?” Something in you doesn’t want to believe him.

“Yyyup.”

“I’ve never seen you outside of your shop before,” you state, your tone indicating disbelief.

“I have a life outside of my shops, you know. How do you think I stock up after you expendables leave me empty handed?”

“Well… okay, I guess that’s fair. I know you scavenge around for things, I just never expected to run into you while you were doing it.”

“Yet here we are.”

“Right…” your gaze drifts back down to the, uh… splattered wall dweller remains on the ground. “Ew… uh, thanks for that by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies bluntly.

You step to the side to make some distance between you and the carnage- and then a realization strikes you.

“Wait, why didn’t you just let it kill me? If you did, you could’ve just looted my corpse again. It’s not like you haven’t done that plenty of times before. Don’t you want me to fail?”

He stares at you. Usually he’s quick to respond to anything you have to say to him, but it seems you might have actually stumped him for once. You weren’t exactly sure why, though.

You stare at each other in silence for a little too long before Sebastian finally speaks up.

“... Well. Some of you expendables like to eat this disgusting shit, don’t you?” He picks up a dweller chunk off the ground. “I just figured since I’ve seen you freaks eat them often enough, and they’re usually so hard to come by, I could start hunting them down once in a while and sell chunks of them for a good price! Smart business move, no?” He grins again, seemingly back in character.

You blink. “... Okay, yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“See? I’m just scavenging. Nothing more to it. This is purely for my benefit, not for yours.”

You frown, annoyed and unamused. “Right. Got it. Thanks.”

He hums with a cheeky smile before turning around to leave. “Well, I best be going. See you real soon, Expendable.”

“Wait!”

He halts, glancing over his shoulder to find you removing your bag from your person.

“While you’re here…” you hand Sebastian your bag. “Want this?”

He’s staring again. At you, then at the bag. Then back up to you.

“… What do you want?” He asks, turning to face you once more.

“Nothing. I have everything I need, really, and I don’t want you to have to re-scavenge for whatever I would buy off of you here. So… take it.”

You’ve stunned him again. This time you figure it’s because you’re basically offering him free money.

Once again, he is trying desperately to understand you. But he can’t. He never does, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

Seriously, what is wrong with you? Why are you like this? Why are you so kind to him, even in moments like this? And why does it make him feel so…

“Sebastian?”

Your voice interrupts his train of thought.

He rudely snatches the bag out of your hand. “Don’t expect me to give you anything for this later,” he warns.

“I won’t. Consider it a thanks for saving me,” you smile.

“I wasn’t trying to save you.”

“I know,” you assure him and make your way to the next room the navi-path is leading you to.

He watches you.

You wave to him as you walk off, facing away from him as you do. “See you soon, fish sticks!”

He watches until you’re out of sight.

A strange, fluttery feeling occupies his stomach. You did this to him. He hates it.

He hates your stupid nicknames for him. He hates your stupid face, and that stupid smile you give him almost every time he sees you. He hates your teasing, and your little playful remarks that you send his way when he’s being an asshole. He hates your stupid laugh. He hates that he’s memorized the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you do. He hates all the little things you do to show that you care and don’t want to upset him. He hates that you express that same kindness to other occupants of this hellscape that deserve it more than he does. He hates that you’re an unstoppable force that won’t quit no matter how often he discourages you.

He hates you. More than anything.

And yet…

For some reason…

A part of him still can’t wait to see you again on your next run.

#pressure fanfic #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you

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saerins · 1 year ago

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⋆୨ prologue ୧˚ all see through, just like glass

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ next: chapter one - thorns without flowers, bars with no drinks ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 1.6k | ೀ content warnings: modern au, rich!reader & rich!sae, fluff/angst, swearing, somewhat boys being boys, manipulation/gaslighting, bad parents, yn has a sister here but won’t be mentioned too much !

i. y/n

“Don’t be so overly emotional, sweetheart. Isn’t this absolutely perfect for you?”

“You’re saying no? Can’t believe you’d say that… you know if you don’t do this you’re only damning your little sister instead, right?”

“Sweetie, we are listening to you. But don’t you think we would know what’s best for you? We’re only criticising you because we love you.”

Marriage; a concept you’d been familiar with since young, way back when you had a dream to marry your one and only Prince Charming—someone who’d appear one day and completely sweep you off your feet. Five year olds are silly like that. You’d believe in Prince Charming and fairytale endings and that two people in love would always work things out.

Being the daughter of a very successful businessman, a lot of things were given to you as a child. You never had to ask for toys, or books, or anything at all. Your father would ensure your material needs were well taken care of, and your mother would ensure you’re pampered from head to toe, buying you designer assets and making sure you look the best you can at each instance.

Life in the upper echelon is mostly desirable; the privileges are apparent, the favouritism rampant. You’re grateful for what you have, but there’s a small ball of thought inside you that wishes for your parents not to see you as a product, but as their child. Most of the people you had met had absolutely zero problems with their upbringing, perfectly content with being handed everything on a silver plate.

Most people except Mikage Reo, your best friend since the fourth grade. He hated having his life dictated for him too, and you both found common ground in that. Ever since then, you’d both been close as ever.

“Wait wait wait,” he nearly chokes on his rice, the disbelief in his tone overwhelming, an eyebrow cocked as his fringe falls over his left eye. “Repeat that again.”

A small sigh escapes your lips, your fork poking against the rice in your bowl, any form of appetite you had earlier being sucked out just by revisiting the topic. “It’s an arranged marriage.”

Reo appears unamused, but he restrains himself from commenting too much negativity. “And… what did you say?”

That’s why he’s a good friend—he feels you out first before filtering what he needs to say. He’ll still speak his mind, but depending on your decision, he’ll choose his words carefully.

You’ve always been eternally grateful for his presence. It calms you down, that sense of comfort irreplaceable. You know that if you ever really screw anything up that bad, you’ll have him—and really, that’s enough for you. Out of everything you have, you think this friendship’s probably the most precious one.

“The wedding’s in a couple months,” you half-answer, deciding to stop playing with your food and putting your fork down. The clang of the metal hitting the marble-top table is the last sound you hear for a while before Reo clears his throat.

Before Reo can get any words out, you interject. “The guy said yes too, apparently.”

Now he chokes on his rice.

You slide the glass of water across the table and Reo chugs it down, water trickling down the sides of his lips at his urgency. “How the fuck did your parents get Itoshi Sae of all people to say yes?”

Itoshi Sae. The name of your to-be husband. You know him as much as what you can search online. Twenty-five this year. No hobbies but it’s rumoured he’s good in soccer. He’s a lot like you when it comes to status and standing in the business world—the kid of successful self-made parents who everyone in your immediate circle automatically expects good things from. The pressure to perform and become someone of note since birth is probably something you both share. Except, maybe, Itoshi Sae looks like he’s a lot less obedient than you are. He looks like he’s more rebellious than not, and that’s why you wonder if he has any hidden agendas by agreeing to this business arrangement.

You know why you’re agreeing.

“Seriously, we raised this child and yet she’s so ungrateful!”

“Y/N, you know if you don’t do this then he’s just going to force this on your little sister, right?”

How can you let that slide as a big sister? Especially when your little sister is perfectly happy in a long-term relationship? Unfortunately, threatening their children isn’t below your parents.

Even when you revisit the conversation in your head, your mother’s faux concern is nauseating. She’s always been that way; everything your father says goes and she doesn’t offer much else other than what he expects of her. Maybe that’s why you grew up to be this way.

Shrugging, you turn your attention back to Reo, a small pout forming on your lips. “You know my dad. He’s always been good at talking.”

“What about you though? Are you really okay with this?”

At this point, Reo’s the only one who’s genuinely concerned for you. Maybe because he knows about all your childish dreams about finding The One. While you appreciate his concern, you brush it off.

“Yeah, I mean, how bad could things possibly get with Sae?”

Reo’s eyebrows show he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t say more.

“I’ll be fine, Reo, promise.”

You’ll just have to win Itoshi Sae over. Even if it’s hard, you’re determined to try and make the most of it. It won’t be that bad if you work hard on it… right?

ii. itoshi sae

“Either do this, or I’ll get Rin instead. It’ll be a pain, but don’t think I won’t do it.”

“Honey! Stop speaking like that… Sae, please try to understand, this will be a huge opportunity. It’s the least you owe us, hm?”

“You lost your shot, do you want Rin to lose his too?”

“If you don’t want her, I'll take her.”

“Go ahead.”

Sae’s completely tuned out of the conversation, the thoughts of his upcoming wedding filling his head. Now that everything’s settled between yours and his parents, it’s really kicking in that fuck, did he really let them dictate his love life like that?

“She’s pretty hot, though. I think she’s just a year younger than you?” Oliver’s scrolling through your Instagram—typical behaviour from his end. The moment Sae told them your name, it took only half a minute for Oliver and Otoya to find your online presence.

L/N Y/N. He’s always heard of you. Your name constantly leaves his parents’ mouths, ever since he was a kid. Apparently, your parents and his have been tight since high school. Sae is sceptical about the relationship, though. Nothing is ever that plain and simple between rich families. There must be a reason Sae’s never personally seen you, after all, despite his parents claiming to have a good relationship with yours.

“What the fuck’s going through their heads?”

And by that, Sae assumes that Otoya means his parents. If that’s the case, Sae has long decided he’s given up trying to understand what goes on in their heads—but if he had to guess, it’s probably all because of a simple business deal.

Having their kids wed each other would mean that one of them is absorbing the other. A little side knowledge that Sae doesn’t care for, so he only shrugs in response.

“Aw, little Sae is growing up,” Oliver sneers, earning a snicker from Otoya and a middle finger from Sae himself.

Otoya eggs him on, adding to the fire. “Yeah, to think that the guy who only ever dated once in his whole fucking life is the one getting married first,” he comments, eyes gazing to the side in deep thought, “what was her name again? Mirin?”

“Oh fuck, yeah I forgot about her,” Oliver exclaims, smirking at Sae. “First love type shit, right?”

Sae rolls his eyes, ignoring him, forcing him to change the subject.

“Shit, didn’t think you were the kind to ever say yes though,” Oliver remarks, eyes still glued onto the screen, likely still scrolling through your posts.

Oliver’s standards are quite high. Are you really that pretty? Sae’s never actually seen what you look like.

“I’m not fucking marrying her. I don’t even know her.”

“Maybe we should just pull Rin out then, get him to come back here and handle all this.”

“Sae, be a good boy and listen to us, okay? How about this—if it ever gets too bad, we’ll look into a divorce in the future, hm?”

As if he believes that. His parents are insufferable. There’s no point in ranting to this group though, so Sae brushes it off.

“Not like I care about this marriage shit,” he leans back, an air of nonchalance around him. “I’ll just shut my parents up and wait for the right time to leave.”

Otoya scoffs, smirking. “Lucky girl.” Sarcasm is his forté.

Oliver laughs, finally putting his phone down. “Okay you do that, and then I’ll pop up and be her Prince Charming and sweep her off her feet.”

Sae inwardly sighs to himself. His friends are insufferable as well, though he’d argue whether that’s the correct term for them. They’re only a group because their families happened to meet often. Somehow, Sae had been dragged into this weird association one day, and the rest is history.

“Do whatever the fuck you want.”

The rest of the night, Sae drowns out their conversation, choosing to ignore whatever shit they’re talking about. In his head, he’s only thinking about how long it’ll take before he can safely absolve himself from you without his parents threatening his younger brother’s career. More importantly, he’s wondering how the fuck he’s going to tell you he’s thinking of a divorce even before you get married.

Surely, you don’t really expect anything to come out of this either, do you?

If you do, you’ve got a rude awakening coming.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover

#itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #sae x you #sae x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #bllk itoshi sae #itoshi sae #૪ aeri’s fics !

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moonydustx · 2 months ago

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a little sadness for your timeline, I'm sorry!

without warnings to avoid spoilers but anguish without a happy ending.

one piece masterlist

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You've already thought about that old saying about life flashing before your eyes when you're about to die.

You could definitely remember the good times and the bad, all the laughs and tears. Thanks to some kind of blessing, you had had a complete and joyful life. Maybe that was why besides the smiles and tears, you could remember the kisses hidden by the submarine until you two were caught, from all the bottles of wine shared to good stories and good times. Of all the moments he claimed you as his, all his, only his.

Now, your eyes could see him lying a few meters away, blood was accumulating both around him and around you. The enemy that was on top of him will be thrown into the distance by your captain's most faithful companion. Captain who was your partner, your friend, your love.

"B-Babe?" His voice came out through a cough, gasping for air. The fact that he used the kind way he called you that, automatically, indicated how bad things were. "Babe, p-please…"

"I'm here." Your voice came out more shabby than you could imagine. The pain spread throughout your body, there wasn’t much you could do.

"You need to…" Law began.

At that moment, you understood what they always meant by life flashing before your eyes.

It was the end of you, the end of all the joy you had ever shared with the man, the end of dreams, of good times, of your future family, of any good hypothesis that had ever crossed your mind. But he would live and for the moment, that would have to be enough for you.

You turned to him and you could see his eyes searching you from the ground. How many times had you both laid side by side on some island, just contemplating the sky while you listened to Law talk and talk and talk - which wasn't so common in the beginning. You listened with pleasure, damn it, you would give your life to have a few more minutes lying next to him.

"Bepo is holding them, you can run away." he said, reaching out to reach your hand. "Please go."

"No." your fingers intertwined with his, some tears were already blurring your vision and at that point, you could see his face wet not only with blood or sea water. "You go."

"No, no. You go!" he tried to sit up and let his weak body fall. "P-please, I can't go and know... y-you're left behind."

"It's ok." You tried to give your best smile. "Our family will be fine, I promise."

"But…"

"Law!" you tried to distract him from the idea of leaving you behind, you unfortunately knew that it would eat away at him for a while. "Law, my love."

"No, I c-can't…"

"It's ok babe." you saw Bepo catch up to you and with just one look exchanged between the two of you, you knew the bear had understood what to do. "I love you Law. It's okay, you go."

Your fingers untwined with his as Bepo took him towards the sea, in an escape that was worth the most important asset of the pirates heart, your most important asset: Law.

Even from a distance and with his own vision obscured by so many tears that insisted on falling, Law saw you stand up, staggering and throwing yourself towards Blackbeard.

You would try to buy time so that Law and Bepo could escape in one last breath of adrenaline in your body.

This way perhaps you would also be buying time so that your love story would still live on, even if in painful memories in the mind of your loved one.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law

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vunblr · 21 days ago

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Unspoken (Ch.1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Wet Dream, Angst-Hurt/Comfort, Alusions to Hydra's Trash Party (if you don't know what that is, google about it before reading please), Alusions to Sexual Abuse, Invasive Medical Procedure, Panic Attack situation, Sam being Sam.

Summary: Bucky tries to deal with his traumatic past, and struggles with his feelings as he grows closer to a new Avenger.

Word Count: About 6.1.k.

notes: Again, I was aiming for a one-shot but I couldn't stop myself, so, I divided it into two chapters. I started this story with another idea in mind, but I caught the angsty virus so it ended up being... this. Don't worry, it has a happy ending.

The halls of the Avengers Tower felt different lately. Not in the chaotic, battle-worn way they usually did after a mission, but with a quieter shift, a new energy. Y/n had been living there for a few months now, being the newest addition to the team, providing support both in the field and at the Tower itself. Her mutation was a rare one: healing. It had proven invaluable in the eyes of SHIELD long before she joined the Avengers, who welcomed her gladly as an asset to the team.

Steve, ever the diplomat, had been the first to take her under his wing. Natasha followed suit, sharing subtle smirks and dry humor. And Tony, of course, wove her into his banter effortlessly, dropping nicknames the moment she walked through the door. The rest of the team? They warmed up faster than she expected.

Except for Bucky.

It wasn’t that he was unfriendly, just... distant. At first, she didn’t think much of it. He was Bucky Barnes after all, notorious for his walls of silence and stoic glares. Given his traumatic past and recent events, who could blame him?

Initially, their interactions were minimal, with brief moments during missions or in the common areas. A mumbled “thanks” when she healed a scrape on his nose or soothed a swollen cheekbone after a fight. A silence charged with meaning when treating the marred tissue on his shoulder where metal meets flesh. A half-smile shared over coffee in the early hours, when neither of them could sleep. It was small, barely noticeable, but it felt like something. And gradually, it grew.

They started to talk more, albeit in Bucky’s way. Simple things at first: questions about the missions, advice on self-defense techniques, short conversations over breakfast, passing comments about the day. His words were clipped, sometimes gruff, but she could sense the cautious warmth beneath them. He’d linger in the kitchen when she made tea, offering a quiet “Need help with that?” or “How was your day?” For a while, they settled into an easy rhythm.

But just as she was getting used to it, things shifted. Subtly at first. He started answering her with short nods instead of words, avoiding her gaze more often than not. The moments they’d shared, those tentative steps toward something more, became fewer and fewer. His presence grew colder, his body language tighter, like he was retreating behind walls she’d thought he was finally lowering.

It bothered her. She wasn’t the type to let things fester, but with Bucky, she wasn’t sure how to ask. Had she overstepped? Did something wrong? Every time she tried to bring it up subtly, he brushed her off with a dismissive grunt or a smile that never reached his eyes.

And every day, the distance between them grew.

She found herself watching him more, searching for answers in the lines of his face, in the stiff set of his shoulders. But Bucky, ever the mystery, kept those answers hidden away, leaving her with only questions, and no one seemed to have any. Not even Steve. His answer had been a vague shrug, a reassuring smile, and the promise that “He will come around.”

Bucky wasn’t sure when things changed with her. At first, he appreciated how she treated him, no pity, no coddling, just simple, genuine conversations that made him feel normal. Her presence was a breath of fresh air in the weighty atmosphere of the compound. For the first time in years, he found himself wanting to talk to someone besides Steve. Just… talk.

At first, he welcomed it, the way her smile lingered a little longer when he grumbled back a response, the warmth in her eyes when they shared quiet moments. But as the weeks passed, something else stirred inside him. Something terrifying.

It wasn’t just gratitude for their blossoming friendship. No, it was deeper than that. Attraction. Wanting. And the more he felt it, the harder it became to face her.

Because every time he let himself think about her, guilt crashed over him. She didn’t deserve the weight of his past, the darkness he carried. He had been the Winter Soldier for too long and caused too much pain, and though he was no longer under Hydra’s control, the memories still festered. Faces of people he’d hurt and killed, their voices still screamed in his nightmares.

And then there was the abuse, so much more than physical. Hydra’s handlers had taken everything from him: his freedom, his identity, his will. His body had been theirs to do with as they pleased, leaving wounds that might never heal. Late at night, he could still feel it, the ghost of their hands, the way they used him, broke him, controlled him. He couldn’t even think about it without feeling sick.

How could he even begin to think about her in that way? She was light and warmth and Bucky... Bucky was a mess of scars, guilt, and trauma that he hadn’t fully unpacked.

So, he did what he always did when emotions started to rise. He shut them down. He stopped talking to her, stopped letting her get close. It was easier to be cold and to act indifferent because it was better than to deal with his feelings. Better for her to think he didn’t care, than for her to see just how broken he truly was.

Things had started to grow awkward -tense, even- during their group meetings before missions. What had once been quiet indifference from Bucky turned into something sharper. It started with a sarcastic comment here or there, muttered under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear. She tried to brush it off at first, assuming he was just being Bucky, moody as usual. But when it became a pattern, when his remarks grew more pointed, more dismissive, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

He had started suggesting, in front of everyone, that she didn’t have to participate in certain missions.

"Maybe sit this one out, Y/n," Bucky had said during the last briefing, his tone flat, eyes avoiding hers as he leaned back in his chair. "We don't need anyone getting in the way."

Her eyes narrowed, the heat of anger rising in her chest. She wasn’t new to dangerous missions and wasn’t some kind of rookie everyone had to look after. And Bucky knew that. They all did. She had a support role, yes, but she had been in the field countless times before, proving her worth more than once not only to them but also to SHIELD. To have him throw those words at her -especially in front of the team- was humiliating. Infuriating.

"You don’t get to decide that, Barnes," she shot back, her voice laced with sharpness. "I’ve done just fine without your input."

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained cool. "Yeah, because healing a few cuts and bruises is the same as being in the thick of it."

Her fists clenched at her sides. "You think that’s all I do? Patch people up? I’ve been in more firefights than you can count, Barnes, and I’m still standing."

"That’s not the point," he retorted, arms crossing over his chest as he finally looked at her, his expression hard. "I’m just saying, you’re better off hanging back. Let the people who are used to the danger handle it."

Her eyes flared, fists clenching at her sides as she stepped forward. "Excuse me?! Used to the… I’ll show you danger, you-"

Before she could finish, Steve quickly stepped in, raising a hand to calm the rising tension. “Hey, hey, let’s all take a breath here,” he said, his voice steady but firm, trying to diffuse the situation. “We’ve got bigger things to focus on right now.”

A silent exchange passed between everyone present, but no one intervened. The air crackled with unspoken tension.

This had become their new normal. Meetings had devolved into subtle jabs and snarky comebacks, with Bucky seemingly intent on pushing her buttons, while she fired back with increasingly sharp remarks. Each time he tried to brush her off or suggest she wasn’t needed, she fiercely stood her ground.

He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t just trying to keep her at arm’s length; he was also afraid. Afraid of her getting hurt in the field, and mostly afraid of the way he felt about that fear. Every time she suited up for a mission, something twisted painfully in his gut, a knot he couldn’t untangle, no matter how hard he tried. So, as a defense mechanism -more like a teenager than the grown-up man he was- he belittled her, hoping he could convince her keep her out of harm's way.

Their sleeping quarters were close. Too close, sometimes. One night, she was torn from sleep by the sound of muffled screams. Bucky. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard them, but tonight, they were louder, more desperate. She lay in bed for a long moment, heart racing, listening to his struggle through the not-so-thin walls. She wanted to go back to sleep, tried to convince herself he’d eventually be fine. But the raw sound of his torment lingered in the mind, making it impossible for her to settle.

Almost an hour passed, and she realized the sleep wasn’t going to come back. With a quiet sigh, she got up and padded down the hall to the kitchen. The cool floorboards under her bare feet grounded her as she moved through the dimly lit Tower. Maybe some tea -and a piece of the achtzig schlag she baked that afternoon, whom was she kidding- would help, as small comfort to chase away the unease from being waked like that.

But when she reached the kitchen, she stopped short. Bucky was already there.

He stood by the sink, barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, his broad back facing her. His metal hand gripped the edge of the counter while the other hung limply at his side with an empty glass loosely grabbed between his fingers. His head was bowed, shoulders tense, as if the weight of the world rested there. She couldn’t tell if he’d noticed her presence, she could see his face reflected on the glass of the big window, and his gaze was fixed blankly on the sink, lost in whatever hell his nightmares had dragged him through.

For a moment, she hesitated. He barely spoke to her anymore, and when he did, he was a complete ass. But standing there, in the dim light of the kitchen, he didn’t look like his usual self. He looked... more than broken. Vulnerable. The heavy rise and fall of his chest, the slight tremor in his fingers, told her he hadn’t escaped his nightmare, not entirely.

“Bucky,” she called softly, reverting to his nickname, the one she hadn’t used in weeks. He didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch. Just kept staring into the sink as though it might offer some kind of solace he desperately needed.

She stood there, the silence stretching on like a heavy curtain. She debated leaving him alone, letting him find his own way out of whatever haunted him. But something in the way he stood there, utterly still, as if frozen in time, made her stay. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her comfy cotton nightgown, and she stepped closer.

“Bucky,” she said again, a bit louder this time, her voice soft but steady.

This time, his shoulders tensed, the only sign he’d heard her. Slowly, he turned his head, just enough to glance at her out of the corner of his eye. His face was a mask of exhaustion, shadows carved deep under his eyes. There was a flash of something in his expression, maybe surprise, maybe frustration, but it faded quickly.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Bucky turned back to the sink, exhaling heavily as if it took effort to breathe. "You’re up late," he muttered, his voice hoarse and quiet, breaking the silence. He didn’t look at her.

"So are you," she replied, keeping her tone light despite the tension in the air. She wasn’t sure what else to say. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but something told her he wouldn’t answer that. Instead, she moved to the stove, setting a kettle on to boil.

He remained silent, not moving from his spot. The awkwardness lingered, but she kept herself busy, preparing tea as if this was an everyday occurrence. Bucky stood silently there, while she pretended not to notice the storm brewing inside him.

She turned back to him as the kettle began to whistle. “You want some? I bought this strawberry blend the other day, it’s pretty good,” she offered gently, holding up two cups.

For a long moment, there was no response. He just stood there, staring into the sink like he hadn’t heard her. Then, to her surprise, he gave a slight nod, the motion barely perceptible. His eyes, still shadowed with whatever nightmares had followed him into the waking world, flicked toward her but didn’t quite meet her gaze.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, voice low and rough.

She nodded, poured the tea, and placed one mug on the counter in front of him, and then leaned against the surface holding her cup between her hands as if the warmth might cut through the awkwardness.

“Strawberry’s a weird choice for tea, right?” she said, trying to make light conversation. “I wasn’t sure about it at first, but it kinda grows on you. Tony said it smelled like candy.” Bucky didn’t respond, just stared at the steaming cup in front of him, his jaw tight. She smiled a little, trying to ease the tension. “You know, Steve also liked this tea. Said it reminded him of-”

“Shut up.” Bucky cut her off, his voice low but sharp with frustration. He finally looked at her, his eyes dark and cold. “Just... shut up, Y/n.”

The words hit her like a slap, and her smile faltered instantly. For a moment, she just stood there, unsure how to react. “Right,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze. “I’ll just... leave you to it.”

She started to turn, deciding it was better to give him space, but before she could leave the kitchen, his voice broke through the silence again.

“Wait.”

She paused mid-step, the sound of his voice halting her in place. Slowly, she turned back. Bucky wasn’t looking at her, though; he was staring down at the cup of tea, his expression tight and conflicted.

“I... I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand rose to rub the back of his neck, a gesture of discomfort she’d seen before, but this time it felt heavier. “I didn’t mean to snap like that, you don’t deserve...”

There was a pause, the weight of the silence hanging thick between them.

He finally looked up, his blue eyes clouded with something raw. “I had a nightmare,” he admitted, the words coming out slowly like they were painful to say aloud. “One of the... heavy ones.” His voice cracked on the last part, and for a moment, he seemed smaller, haunted.

She shifted slightly, watching the tension in Bucky’s posture, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the counter as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded. She hesitated, but the concern pushed her forward. “Do you... want to talk about it?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched instantly, the muscle twitching as his eyes flicked away from her, staring hard at the cup of tea again. His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she thought he might snap at her again. But instead, there was just silence. A heavy, suffocating silence that told her everything she needed to know.

The dream still clung to him. It wasn’t just a memory, it was something darker, something visceral. In the back of his mind, the flashback played like a twisted reel. He remembered the cold steel table beneath his back, the harsh, sterile lights overhead. The sensation of restraints biting into his skin. Voices around him, detached and clinical, as faceless scientists in white coats discussed the "procedure." A sharp pain had torn through his body, worse than anything he had felt before, as they tested the limits of his tissue regeneration. They cut deeper with each slice, watching his flesh heal itself in real-time, timing the speed of recovery as though he was no more than a lab rat.

He could still hear the sound of the blade cutting through muscle and bone, the smell of antiseptic mixing with the coppery tang of blood. No anesthesia, it wasn’t needed. Bucky’s grip tightened on the counter, his breathing shallow.

She saw the way his whole body tensed, the flicker of torment in his eyes that he tried to hide behind his blank expression. She took a small step forward, her voice softer now. “It’s ok. You don’t have to talk about it,” she said quietly, her gaze steady but gentle, offering him an out without pushing him further.

Then she hesitated, her heart heavy with concern as she took in Bucky’s weary expression. He looked so exhausted, dark circles under his eyes betraying the countless sleepless nights. She bit her lip, and took a small step forward, her voice tentative. “I could... help if you want. With the nightmares.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed, his gaze snapping to her, confused. He didn’t respond immediately, and for a second, she wondered if she had overstepped. She could feel the tension between them building again, the air heavy with the weight of what he wouldn’t say.

“I mean,” she continued quickly, keeping her voice soft, “my powers… they don’t only work on physical injuries. I can soothe the mind too if the subject is willing. I can help you sleep.” She trailed off, unsure if this was what he wanted to hear. The last thing she wanted was to push him, but looking at him now -exhausted, broken, standing there like a man holding himself together with frayed string- she couldn’t just walk away.

“You look...” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “You look like you could use a break from it all, even if it’s just for a little while. You don’t have to keep suffering through this alone.”

For a moment, Bucky just stared at her, his face unreadable. His body was tense, his muscles rigid like he was waiting for something to snap. She half-expected him to reject the offer, to throw another biting comment her way and shut down again. But instead, his expression softened ever so slightly, the hardness in his eyes dimming as he weighed her words. He was quiet, and in that silence, she saw the exhaustion behind the mask he always wore, the misery that had become his constant companion.

He swallowed, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “I don’t know if it’ll work,” he muttered, his eyes flickering with doubt. “Nothing’s worked before.”

Her heart clenched at his words, the defeat heavy in his tone. "We won’t know unless we try," she said softly, watching his reaction.

Bucky hesitated for a beat before muttering, "Fine." The word came out more like a reluctant concession than actual acceptance. He glanced at her from under his brow. "Just... don’t make it weird." With that, he turned and led her toward his quarters.

Once the door was shut, she sat on the end of his double bed. "Alright. Lay down and rest your head on my thighs."

Bucky eyed her warily, his jaw tightening. He wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, this kind of intimacy. After a long moment, though, the exhaustion and lingering unease from the nightmare tugged at him too strongly. With a resigned sigh, he climbed onto the bed and lay on his side, hesitating briefly before resting his head on her thighs.

“There,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the soft fabric of her clothes. “Don’t think this means I’m letting my guard down completely, got it?”

Despite his gruff tone, she could feel the weight of his weariness. His body was tense, but the warmth of her legs seemed to be doing its work already. She began running her fingers gently through his hair, her touch light but intentional.

"That’s exactly what I need you to do," she whispered. "Don’t fight me, Buck. Relax and let me take care of you."

He inhaled deeply, her scent filling his senses, grounding him. The tension in his shoulders began to ebb away, though he stubbornly clung to a sliver of resistance. "I don’t need taking care of," he grumbled, even as his eyelids began to grow heavier.

“Whatever you say, hun,” she teased softly.

Bucky let out a low grunt, his eyes fluttering closed as her fingers traced soothing lines through his hair. The sensation sent calming waves through him, unraveling his nerves one strand at a time. He didn’t have the energy to resist anymore, too drained from the nightmare, too tired of fighting his own mind.

"Hun..." he echoed, the word slipping out before he could catch it. "Don’t… call me that." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, despite himself. The way she said it -warm, gentle- made him feel oddly cared for, something he wasn’t used to. He buried his face deeper into her lap, inhaling her scent again. It was grounding, pulling him further from the chaos of his mind.

“Oh, shush,” she said, brushing the protest aside, her fingers still moving through his dark locks.

For once, Bucky complied. He fell silent, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat becoming the only sound in the room. The quiet, steady thump-thump echoed in his ears, an oddly comforting melody amidst the storm of his thoughts.

"Your heartbeat..." he murmured, his voice soft, almost sleepy. "It’s kind of nice." The confession slipped out unguarded, but for once, he didn’t regret it. The sound of her heart beating -constant, reliable- felt like an anchor, something to hold onto in the sea of his nightmares.

Her hand paused for a fraction of a second before resuming its gentle motion. “Oh? I’ve never heard that one before. Maybe because regular people can’t hear it without... closer contact.”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips at her remark, but he didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he allowed himself to lean into her touch, the soft strokes through his scalp lulling him into a state of calm he hadn’t felt in a long time. His hand drifted up, almost unconsciously, to her thigh, tracing small circles over her skin. The simplicity of the contact brought a rare comfort he hadn’t allowed himself in years.

She continued her gentle ministrations, pouring her power into the touch. Slowly, bit by bit, Bucky’s muscles softened, the weight of his nightmares slipping away as her presence anchored him to something safe. Something real. And for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to feel it. The calm. The peace. The quiet.

After a while she sighed, exhausted from using her powers to push against the weight of his severe trauma. Now, she had to figure out how to leave without waking him. He was sleeping deeply, his mind finally at peace after months of restless nights plagued by nightmares. Yet, despite his slumber, he wasn’t entirely defenseless. His subconscious remained alert, picking up on the slightest changes around him.

As she carefully prepared to slip away, Bucky's eyes flickered open, revealing half-lidded blue irises clouded with drowsiness. Without a word, his hand reached out, as if instinctively sensing her intention to leave. His grip was light but firm, his fingers curling around her thigh with an unconscious possessiveness.

"Shhh," she whispered, wincing internally as she resumed running her fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him back to sleep. She knew it was a lost battle; any attempt to leave would only rouse him further. Resigned, she reached for some unused pillows and cushions nearby, pulling them close as she reclined, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep while sitting up.

The rhythmic strokes of her fingers seemed to draw him back from the edge of wakefulness. Bucky nuzzled into her touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he settled back into a deep slumber. As she adjusted her position, using the pillows to support her back, he instinctively shifted with her, seeking out the warmth of her body. His arm wrapped loosely around her waist, pulling her closer as he mumbled incoherently in his sleep.

At some point, she fell asleep too, physically drained from using all her energy to ease his haunted mind. The last thing she remembered before succumbing to slumber was the weight of his head still resting on her lap, her hand gently tangled in his soft hair.

Bucky stirred slightly in his sleep, his nose brushing against the soft fabric of her cotton nightie. Her scent filled the air around him, a mix of sweetness and warmth that seeped into his senses, pulling him deeper into the haze of his dreams. A low groan rumbled in his chest, reverberating through her thigh, dangerously close to her groin. His hand clenched reflexively, fingers digging into her leg without conscious thought.

In his dream state, his mind began to wander, unraveling the careful control he kept during his waking hours. Images of her flooded his thoughts, her curves, the way she moved, the sense of safety she gave him. But beneath those innocent glimpses was something darker, a longing he had fought to keep buried for too long. His breathing quickened as his subconscious registered the intimate contact, even as he remained lost in the depths of sleep. His hips twitched involuntarily, pressing his growing arousal into the mattress, seeking relief.

In his dreams, he imagined her laid out before him, her skin flushed and waiting. His lips would trail along her inner thighs, teasing and tasting, drawing out soft moans from her as she squirmed beneath him. The thought of her writhing in pleasure sent a rush of heat through his body, pushing him to grind against the sheets, the friction barely enough to ease the ache between his legs. Small, needy sounds escaped his parted lips as he chased the release his body craved, lost in the fantasy.

Suddenly, Bucky's eyes snapped open, blinking rapidly as reality crashed down on him. His breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding as he took in the sight before him -Y/n, peacefully asleep, her hand still resting on his hair. A flush crept up his neck, embarrassment flooding him as the remnants of his dream lingered in his mind. Worse still was the sticky mess staining his underwear.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he extracted himself from her lap, careful not to disturb her slumber. He rolled off the bed and landed heavily on his feet, his movements stiff with mortification. His hand instinctively moved to his groin, tugging down his underwear slightly to reveal the sticky evidence of his release. A low curse escaped his lips as he took in the sight, shame heating his face. Without a second glance, he padded to the bathroom, his body tense with humiliation.

Minutes later, she stirred, feeling her legs lighter, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The memories of offering to soothe Bucky’s mind with her powers returned, along with the feeling of being trapped, unable to leave without waking him. But now, as she blinked and stretched, she realized he was gone. Her back and neck throbbed from the awkward position she had slept in, so she slowly got up from his bed and returned to her own room, crawling into her bed to continue sleeping, unaware of the events that had transpired before she awoke.

Meanwhile, Bucky remained in the bathroom, leaning heavily against the sink. A storm of guilt, shame, and relief swirled inside him. Guilt for what had happened so close to her, shame at the explicit nature of his dream, and relief that he’d managed to sneak away without waking her. He buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his temples, trying to shake off the lingering echoes of the fantasy that had caught him off guard so thoroughly.

They didn’t cross paths during the day, except late in the afternoon when Tony handed Natasha some VIP invitations to a charity event for her and Y/n. Bucky was sitting across the room on the couch, but his enhanced hearing made it impossible not to overhear. Natasha found it amusing to join in a bachelorette’s auction at the event, where the winner would get a date with the “prize” of their choosing, and, naturally, she dragged Y/n into it to help raise more funds.

When she entered the room, Bucky couldn’t help but steal glances at her. The vivid memories of his dream from the previous night came rushing back, and a heated blush crept up his neck. The black dress with a low neckline and -were those mesh stockings?- did nothing to dissipate the discomfort.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on him, manspreading on the couch, looking, unsurprisingly, grumpy. She walked over and plopped down next to him, leaning in slightly. “Hey,” she said in a low voice. “I didn’t see you all day. Did you rest after our session? Any nightmares?”

Bucky’s frown deepened as he took in her revealing dress, his gaze lingering for a second too long before flicking up to meet hers. “Yeah, I had a nightmare, alright,” he barked bitterly, his eyes narrowing as he turned away again.

“Fuck, Bucky. Really?” she asked, her hand absentmindedly resting on his arm. “You seemed fine when I fell asleep... I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”

He let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Fine? No, I wasn’t fucking fine,” he snapped, his frustration bubbling over. His eyes drifted down to the swell of her breasts, barely contained by the thin material of her dress, reigniting the memories of his dream and sending another wave of heat through him. He scoffed, turning his head to hide the flush creeping up his neck. “Maybe you thought you did something, but that doesn’t mean shit,” he muttered under his breath.

She recoiled, her heart stinging at his words. She’d felt the connection, sensed the calm that had washed over him during their session. She truly believed she’d helped. His harsh tone caught her off guard, and the hurt was unmistakable in her voice as she stood up abruptly. “Oh. I see. So we’re back to square one where you treat me like shit. You know what? I’m tired of this, Bucky. Just… go fuck yourself.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and stormed toward the private quarters area, leaving him sitting there in stunned silence.

The time to go to the charity event had arrived, and Y/n and Natasha were all dressed up with the final touches, ready to be auctioned off in the playful bachelorette game. Tony, ever the social butterfly, was already acting as the host, ironing out the final details of the evening’s festivities. Steve, the ever-reliable friend and gentleman, had offered to tag along to ensure everything stayed civil and vanilla, ensuring the event went smoothly. Sam showed up at the last minute, his trademark grin plastered on his face. He winked at Y/n and Natasha, flirting playfully and joking about bidding himself.

Y/n smiled at his lightheartedness, but her attention kept drifting toward the couch across the room where Bucky sat, even if he had started to act like an asshole again. He’d been silent since they exchanged those heated words, barely looking up from his spot, his unease almost palpable. His broad frame seemed more hunched than usual as if the weight of the night ahead was pressing down on him.

Sam, ever the instigator, swaggered over to where Bucky sat, giving him a playful nudge. “What’s up, Tinman? You look like you're about to blow a fuse,” he teased, not missing the tightness in Bucky’s jaw.

Bucky didn’t respond immediately, his eyes briefly flicking to Sam before dropping back down. He was clearly in no mood for jokes, but Sam wasn’t one to back down that easily.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know about this,” Sam added, grinning. “I left you, like, four texts reminding you about the event. Figured you might want to leave the grumpy soldier routine behind for one night.”

Bucky’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “Yeah, I saw them,” he muttered under his breath, the words clipped and flat. The truth was, the event had been gnawing at him all day. Seeing Y/n walking in earlier, dressed to the nines, had stirred something deep and unsettling in him. Her sleek black dress with that low neckline, and those mesh stockings… he had barely been able to look at her without feeling a hot flush creep up his neck.

But it wasn’t just the sight of her that was bothering him. Something darker was creeping up from the edges of his memory, something that happened a long time ago.

The room around him faded as a distant echo of laughter, sharp and malicious, filled his ears. He blinked, trying to shake it off, but the memories flooded back in unwanted detail. He saw himself, chained and silent, paraded like an animal in front of an audience of Hydra’s elite. The “auction,” as they had called it, was a twisted form of entertainment where the highest bidder won him for the night. They'd done whatever they wanted to him. Their hands were rough and unforgiving, their words venomous. He’d been stripped of everything, even the ability to fight back. His mind replayed the worst moments, the feeling of hands on him, unwanted touches, and the physical pain when they decided to test his limits. Bucky remembered the smirks on their faces as they violated him in every way they saw fit, knowing he was powerless to retaliate. His body might heal, but his mind was left in tatters every time. He could still hear their voices, cruel and mocking, as they reminded him how easy it was to break him down, to own him.

Suddenly, he was back on the couch, his hands clenched into tight fists as his breathing quickened. His heart pounded in his chest, and he had to swallow down the bile rising in his throat. The memory of his dream from the night before twisted with these recollections, blurring the line between the past and present. Bucky had felt trapped then, just like he felt trapped now. And the thought of Y/n being up there, in front of all those people, being "bought" for the night just for fun triggered him.

The memory lingered like a bitter aftertaste, poisoning his thoughts. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain still, but his insides churned. It was irrational, he knew that. This event wasn’t the same. She wasn’t him. But the line between the past and the present blurred too easily for him sometimes, and the fear -no, the shame- of what he had endured at Hydra’s hands refused to let him breathe freely.

Sam smirked, unfazed by Bucky’s short response. “Don’t sweat it, man. You can just sit back and watch me win a date with one of these fine ladies tonight. I’m feeling lucky.” He flashed an exaggerated wink at Y/n and Natasha, earning a raised eyebrow from Nat in return.

Tony clapped his hands, signaling that it was time to start heading out. As everyone began moving, Bucky remained glued to his spot on the couch.

Completely oblivious to the turmoil inside Bucky’s head, Sam leaned casually against the back of the couch, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he tried to coax his friend into joining them at the event. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, clearly seeing the tension but refusing to let Bucky sit it out. “What, you’re scared you can’t handle a little charity event?” he taunted, his tone light but with just enough edge to poke at Bucky’s pride. “Steve’s already going, and you know how much he loves playing the perfect gentleman. You really gonna let him be the only one representing the ‘old-timer squad’?” He smirked, knowing this tactic might work. “Thought you were tougher than that.”

Bucky huffed, his jaw tightening as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had to get over this shit, Sam won’t leave him alone, and… fuck, he had to man up. “Fine,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible but enough for Sam to catch the reluctant agreement. “But don’t expect me to enjoy this.”

Chapter 2

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x curvy!reader #Bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier fanfiction

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assetsearches · 4 months ago

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Understanding the Role of an Asset Search Company

An asset search company specializes in locating and identifying hidden or undisclosed assets. These companies are invaluable in various scenarios, including legal disputes, divorce settlements, business transactions, and debt recovery. AssetSearches.com is a leader in this field, offering comprehensive services that uncover a wide range of assets, from real estate to financial accounts.

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bankaccountsearch · 3 months ago

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The Essential Guide to Finding Hidden Assets During Divorce

Finding hidden assets after a divorce is crucial to ensuring a fair settlement. Some spouses might attempt to hide assets to reduce the amount they must share. The process of uncovering these hidden assets can be complex but is necessary to protect one's financial interests.

Common Ways Assets Are Hidden

There are several common methods spouses might use to hide assets. These include transferring assets to friends or family members, underreporting income, creating fake debts, or using offshore accounts. In some cases, a spouse might physically hide cash or valuable items or use a business to funnel money.

Steps to Uncover Hidden Assets

Hire a Forensic Accountant: A forensic accountant specializes in uncovering hidden assets. They can analyze financial records, tax returns, and other documents to identify discrepancies and suspicious transactions.

Subpoena Financial Records: During the discovery phase of a divorce, attorneys can subpoena bank statements, tax returns, and other financial documents. This legal tool compels the spouse to produce records that might reveal hidden assets.

Review Tax Returns: Examining tax returns can provide clues to hidden assets. Look for inconsistencies between reported income and lifestyle, as well as unexplained deductions or losses.

Investigate Business Interests: If your spouse owns a business, it may be a source of hidden income or assets. A detailed review of the business’s financial records, including profit and loss statements and balance sheets, can uncover discrepancies.

Check Public Records: Public records, such as property records, can reveal undisclosed real estate or vehicles. Additionally, researching corporate filings might uncover business interests that were not previously disclosed.

Use Private Investigators: In some cases, hiring a private investigator may be necessary. They can conduct surveillance, gather evidence, and follow paper trails that lead to hidden assets.

Legal Implications

Uncovering hidden assets is not just about fairness; it has significant legal implications. If a spouse is found to be hiding assets, courts can impose penalties, including awarding a larger portion of the marital estate to the innocent spouse. In extreme cases, criminal charges for fraud may be pursued.

Conclusion

Finding hidden assets after a divorce is vital to ensure a just division of property. By employing professionals, utilizing legal tools, and thoroughly investigating, one can uncover hidden assets and secure a fair settlement. Always consult with a legal professional to guide you through this process.

#asset investigation services #finding hidden assets after divorce #hidden asset search #asset search company #bank account asset search

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hem-social · 10 months ago

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Private Investigations in West Palm Beach

Discover the Truth with Private Investigations in West Palm Beach, Palm Beach Florida and surrounding areas – Brought to You by Private Eyes Inc.

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tom-foolery-incorporated · 2 years ago

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if you're comfortable with it can i request levi sexting reader pls? i just feel like he would be much more confident sexting you from behind a screen than he ever would be when taking action irl

You've got a point, my dude

NSFW MDNI, sexting, AFAB! Reader, gender neutral, racially ambiguous, dirty talk, two dicks for Levi, told through Levi's perspective, 2nd person POV for reader

It was kind of awkward for Leviathan. The way his pants tightened whenever he thought about you. He questioned whether or not you had cast some sort of curse on him but after seeing your less than novice skills casting beginner spells that was quickly ruled out. While you two have been dating for some time, you have never been intimate with each other. Levi was too shy to try to pursue a sexual relationship with you no matter how much he dreamed about having your lips wrapped around one of his cocks while you jack off the other under his desk as he plays video games on his computer.

This desperate want for your body coupled with Levi's shyness ended up with him seeking out demon x human porn. Specifically, Levi would search for human pornstars that look like you and imagine it was him instead of some stupid incubus or succubus fucking you. That's actually where he ended up right now. He fisted his cocks together at the sight of your pornstar doppelgänger getting railed from behind by a large demon. Levi pretended it was you moaning out his name instead of this pornstar moaning for more from their costar. It was honestly becoming torture for poor Levi, not have your warm cunt hole wrapped around cock while the other slips into your ass. Levi got so caught up in the porn he was watching that the sound of his phone vibrating made him jump.

It was you sending him another meme. Levi could feel the warmth and love spreading through his chest. Even though you had just sent him a silly picture of a mouse in a toy car, Levi still felt so loved that you texted that picture to him only instead of the group chat.

That's when the lightbulb appeared over his head. What if he told you how much he wanted you over text. At least then you wouldn't have to see how hard you make him nor his tomato red face and you wouldn't have to hear how he stutters and stumbles over his words. Through text message, Levi could stay partially hidden.

L: MC i need u

U: why? what's wrong? i'll head over rn

L: NO!

L: i mean...

L: i need u so badly U: oh? U: oh.

Crap, did he just gross you out? I mean, who would want to sleep with a gross otaku like him anyway? All he does is just sit in his room and play video games. You'd do better having your pussy filled by some one like Beel or-

U: i want you too. Levi i want ur cock so bad

Levi almost tipped back in his chair and had to swing his arms to grab at his desk. He sputtered like an old timey car with a flush that could make a strawberry look pale. Levi couldn't believe that you wanted him just as badly. When he regained his balance in his chair, he softly wrapped his hand around his top cock and stroked around the head.

U: i wish i was there with you bouncing on your dick

Levi stopped for a second when he realized your wording. Dick? Cock? As in singular? Nervousness began to rise in the back of his throat. You were obviously down to fuck non-human entities but would you be down for non-human genitalia? Levi looked down at his own cocks. The cock on the top was about an inch longer than the one on the bottom. Both were a tad bit darker than the rest of his skin and faded into a lighter blue near the tip. The heads of his cocks were long and pointed with small bumps along the bottom side of his shafts. His cocks curled a little like a tentacle but weren't nearly has flexible as one. Leviathan thought about how his assets compared to a normal human's and the insecurity began to flair up.

L: uhhh,,,

L: MC?

U: what's wrong? did i cross a line?

Fuck you were so cute when you were worried about him. Levi shook his head trying to flush away the lovey-dovey thoughts he had about you in order to break the possibly bad news.

L: i uh dont have a human set up >.>

U: huh?

U: what do you mean?

Leviathan pressed his hand to his mouth trying to figure out how to tell you. Should he just send a picture? The thought of you having a picture of his cocks made him leak a little but his insecurity had a choke hold on him. He decided against sending you a picture and decided you just tell you straight up what he had going on.

L: i have two dicks

Silence. Five minutes had passed an nothing from you. The worst case scenario immediately came to mind: you were going to break up with him because of his weird penises. Levi was about pull his sweats up over his cocks and sob into his bathtub when his phone vibrated.

U: fuck

U: can i see them?

Levi gripped his phone with sweaty palms. You wanted to see them? You wanted to see him? Naked? You wanted to see the penises of a gross otaku like himself? But you were so beautiful and kind and smart and you could do so much better than him! A shiver ran through his spine at the perverted thought of such a degenerate like himself corrupting someone so beautiful as you. He grabbed his top cock and positioned it so the bottom one could be seen as well as he held his phone over his lap and took the picture. It was right when he pressed send that realization hit him. What if you wanted pictures of his penises to make fun of them? To make fun of him? For some reason that idea turned him on even more. Levi's teeth clacked to together at the thought of you calling him gross and perverted for sending you such images.

Levi: <image sent>

U: fuck

U: theyre huge!

U: crap i want them in me so bad rn

L: 0.0 u do?

U: do you think they could both fit in my pussy?

The directness of your text sent Levi into a frenzy. Fuck, he didn't know if they could both fit but he for sure was going to try! The thought of your poor little cunt being so spread and abused on his cocks made him grab his cocks and start rubbing them together, imagining his fist was your juicy walls welcoming him into your body.

L: we could try

L: i want u to ride me rn. i want to see ur pussy swallowing my cocks everytime you bounce up and down

U: fuck yes Levi!

U: i want to see ur face when you cum inside of me. u always look so cute when ur all flustered

Levi whimpered at your last text. He couldn't understand how you thought such a gross otaku like him was cute but how sweet you were being made his dicks throb in need.

U: imagine if i was cockwarming you while u were gaming o///o

L: fuck please MC

U: every time you get a kill i'd ride you a little. u can't cum until you win though~

L: i promise i will MC! i want to fill you with my cum >.<

U: i love you so much levi. are you in ur room rn?

Levi felt all of the air in his chest get trapped in his lungs. Fuck, you wanted to come see him? Is that why you were asking if he was home?

U: <image sent>

Levi's eyes went wide. He could have sworn they rolled right out of his skull when he saw the picture you just sent. You were reclined on your bed with only a shirt on. On closer inspection it was that shirt from your favorite anime Levi had gotten you for your birthday. Your phone was positioned so that the star of the photo were your index and middle fingers holding your pussy lips open showing Levi the beautiful spread of your sopping cunt. Your clit was at attention and was begging for his lips to be wrapped around it. Levi furiously rubbed his cocks together at the sight. You were so wet and all from him? You weren't dripping with need because of one of his stupid brothers? A feeling somewhere between possessiveness and neediness erupted in Levi. He knew he needed to be buried in your tight hole.

L: yes! please! im home!

U: <read 1 minute ago>

Then there was a knock at his door.

#leviathan #leviathan smut #my writing #leviathan x reader #leviathan x y/n #leviathan x mc #leviathan x reader smut #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x reader smut #i hope this is alright #i'm not really sure how to write people texting lol

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year ago

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Uselessly Protected | Yandere Black Butler

Zombie Apocalypse AU

The howling sounds of the undead groaning rang through your ears as you adjusted the strap of your backpack. Letting your hand hover over the pocket knife you had hidden, you were acutely aware that you weren’t supposed to have it. But you found that impossibly unreasonable for the state the world was in.

“Birdie? What are you lookin’ o’er there for?”

The light voice of Finny calls your attention to him. Bright-eyed and no longer adjusting the grip of his bat, he’s searching your face for some indication of your drifting attention. You smile at him, shaking your head at your odd behavior hopefully silencing any worry. For Finny it's enough as he waits for you to walk ahead of him down the shadowed path to the vehicle. You move forward, eyes trained on the light illuminating the exit of the alleyway. Slow to leave, you scan your surroundings before darting across the street to the bus your troupe had begun calling home. Knocking a tune from childhood, the bus doors swing open revealing Elizabeth, dressed in the bloodiest, pink zombie armor ever, in the driver's seat.

“Hiya (Y/n)! Finny! How was the run?”

“It was great, Miss!”

You let yourself inside immediately dropping the backpack to the ground, relieving yourself of the hefty load. Hovering over your catch with sweat dripping down your face accompanied by the ache of your back relaxing it, you enviously watched the blond still at the entrance of the bus. Completely unphased by the weight of his backpack, which was already five times bigger than the one you had, he was still joyously conversing with the girl. You always thought his unbelievable strength would be generally unideal in a modern world but with the era of the infected starting anew, he was an asset through and through. Not to mention he was a sweet boy, a little clingy but that word doesn’t mean much since you’ve joined your troupe.

Your troupe weren’t some randos you collected over time, the majority of them were the people you spent your hours working with. Maintaining the mansion, catering to the heir who lived in it, and raising the prodigy to be a decent person. It was a part-time job, miraculously handed to you after you returned the missing prodigy at a young age. A glorified babysitter–that’s what your peers called you; laughing about your gig when you told them what you do. Their jeers weren’t all that bad especially when you could wave your fat paycheck in their face. The Phantomhive family was more influential than one would think, with connections spreading across the criminal world all the way to the English Monarchy. The point is this was a position beyond any average citizen, which meant striving to put your best foot forward at all times if only for your own safety.

This is the only reason why you found yourself in the Phantomhive manor the day the world ended. It didn’t matter that you tried to leave and failed. Those in the manor did not want you to leave so you didn’t. They were a different breed, something made clear by all their reactions to the world turning on its head.

“It was good…that department store is starting to have less and less.” You spoke to the blonde as you unloaded your pack, already missing the discouraged look on her face.

“B-but you shouldn’t worry Miss! Sebastian and the Master are already working to find a new place!”

“Oh…good.”

You appreciated Finny’s attempt to lift her spirits but you feared it was all in vain. When you were allowed to go on trips you could easily distinguish the severe lack of supplies it had originally been the hub for. You suspected another, larger group had found it and weren’t afraid to ransack the place. If that were the case, it could mean there were others who’d be willing to help survive. Others to pull their affection from you.

Having unpacked your bag and finished tying down the supplies in their rightful place, you plop on one of the seats designated as your bed. Nuzzling into the planklike surface of the old bus seat. You tried to ignore the thought of the millions that had previously sat on this nearly months before.

“Why y’all lookin’ so glum?”

“Bard!”

Finny cheered, launching himself into the chest of the cook. Returning the hug the two would begin to excitedly recount the number of zombies they offed. A game they started when they went on supply runs together. Not long after Mey-Rin followed suit, too busy stumbling over the stairs of the bus to speak properly.

“We oughta make an official tally for ya, yes we should!”

“If we did, everyone would see how I’m sweepin’ the floor with ya!”

“That’s not true, it's not! I’m doing better than yous, I did!”

You hummed to yourself almost relaxed by their familiar squabbling, you let your eyes close. Listening to the steps going deeper into the bus before attempting to lightly tap away, you figured they must have figured you were trying to sleep.

So sweet. You almost felt bad tricking them.

“Feeling relaxed, (Y/n)?”

Your eyes snapped open to Sebastian Michaelis who was leaning over you with a knowing smirk. Settling your beating heart with a hand over it, you sat up. Straightening out your position as his red eyes seemed to follow you.

“S-seb, you scared me!”

“How was your run today? Successful and uneventful I hope.” “Yeah, it was okay…”

You trailed off as you crossed your arms over your chest. It was normal for him to probe like this, even before the zombie apocalypse. He’d always catch you alone with this intense look in his eyes that had you demanding all of what he wanted. In a gross way, it was hypnotic. Others who have had the misfortune pleasure of coming across your co-worker would fondly recall his crimson gaze. You could do no such thing.

Especially when it was attached to someone who obviously saw himself as more than you. Challenging your authority, in the guise of being a mere colleague. And of course, as the senior in the workplace, you expected that but not in life in general.

“Reporting Sebastian! It was all clear! Not a single scratch!” Finny explained with a not-a-mock salute, smiling wider as the butler smiled at him.

“Good.” He leaned in closer to you bringing his voice lower. “So why do you need that pocket knife?”

You had half a mind to curse him right then and there but the others were already turned away from you to focus on something else. No use bringing their nonsensical input. You held your ground tucking the folded weapon under you as a deterrent.

“Why not? The world’s going crazy and I have a right to want to protect myself.”

He looked at you like you were stupid.

“Don’t you remember we said that we’d protect you? It’s an insult to our capabilities for you to hold on to something so useless.”

“Be insulted. I’m not who you guys are hired to protect, not to mention there’s no doubt going to be more…stressed scavengers looking for food. With the Department store running low, this weapon may very well save my life.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed at you initiating a silent bout of wills. You held his gaze while keeping a hand on your pocket knife. Knowing him, it wouldn’t be hard to distract you while he swiped it from underneath.

He stopped, tilting his head to the side, closing his eyes in a tight-lipped smile.

“Fine then. For now, you can keep it with you. But the moment we leave this area you’ll be relieving it from your possession.”

With that, he stepped away no doubt to help the on-comers who followed or more accurately clung to the young noble. Soma, a prince who happened to be in the area, was quickly ascending the bus steps hand-in-hand with Ciel. It isn’t long before Agni follows suit, waiting until the both of them were on the bus before shutting the door close, using the snipe to look out the window.

“Come on Ciel! I’ll have to show you all my latest finds. Oh hi (Y/n)!”

“Hi, Soma.”

Ciel went to say something only to be pulled away deeper into the bus. Occupying the cot and pulling back the curtain Sebastian had arranged for him Soma happily dumped the contents of his bag on Ciel’s caught. You turned away stifling your laughter as you could see the red overtaking his cheeks.

You instead watched the way Agni and Sebastian sent speculative glares to something or more likely someone outside. Groping the pocket knife in your hand you hoped you wouldn’t have to use it.

Everyone began to settle down with the falling of the sun, having eaten and barricading the bus’ entryways. You still seemed to have trouble settling down, mostly on the account that Agni and Sebastian were both active.

It was normal for Sebastian to roam at night, he did it often on your overnight stays. Surely, it's been heightened because of the Zombie apocalypse, which demanded his presence be known. This begs the question was he purposely not making himself known before. Agni mirrored him fully tense and prepared to fight in what should have been the safety of the bus.

You were tired but not that tired.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

They didn’t bother turning to you, completely well aware of your creeping steps over the sleeping troupe. Agni spoke first.

“Many of us have been followed by this fellow for a while. My guess is that he’s a scavenger.”

You looked out the window they hadn’t blocked, failing to find whoever he was speaking of. But this was Agni, he’d never lie over something like that.

“Why not rest (Y/n)? We’ll handle them should they attempt to move forward.”

You glared at him or at his silhouette annunciated by his eyes which weren’t looking at you. He was doing it again. This undermining is an overprotective suggestion he’d do before steering you into a corner. A useless corner for the useless au pair.

“Why can’t you trust me, Sebastian?”

His gaze shifts to you, fully focused on you.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Why do you keep pushing me out of the way like I’m not an adult myself? I’m not Ciel, in fact, I help you care for him so why do you act like I’m so helpless all the time?”

You could visualize the smile that was spreading across his face.

“I think you misunderstand my intentions towards you.”

“Am I?”

“You equate my care for you to be on par with that of Ciel.”

“Right?”

“I won’t shy from it, I care for you on an intensely different level (Y/n). Which naturally has me prioritizing your safety, can’t I have that luxury?”

“Not in a Zombie apocalypse you can’t…”

You stole a look at Agni who looked incredibly uncomfortable like a family friend in a couple’s spat. Sighing you turned to Sebastian’s silhouette putting a hand on his back.

“Just believe in me some more okay?... And maybe I’ll appreciate your efforts a bit more.”

With a light pat to the back, you walked over to the ammunition corner taking to doing general upkeep on the arsenal.

Thankfully in the darkness of your shelter, you didn’t have to witness the fumes of obsession spiraling off the butler.

It’s nice to be heard every once in a while.

_____________________________________________________

“Hello peasants, we’ve come to make a proposition for all of you!”

“Who let this idiot into the bus!?”

That was a good question. The blonde noble you only recognized from the various competitions Ciel was meant to attend, was making the declaration while standing on the seats. Ciel was clenching his fists, turning a dangerous shade of red as everyone spoke their piece.

“Well hello there, you look around master’s age, you do!”

“Oh my goodness there’s three of them and they all look the same!”

“No, we’re not.”

“A little bit kinda.”

“Not at all you’re wacked in the head.”

Sebastian was glaring intensely at the boy’s butler, while his maid was smiling at an on-guard Agni. It was an odd dynamic to wake up to. Something that wasn’t solitary to living with them during a Zombie apocalypse,

“You guys let’s all settle down and talk this through.” You gestured to the outside where the streams of the undead limped about. “Which sure beats alerting them.”

“Ahh (Y/n)! You’re still alive! Always so cool! C’mon Claude let’s sit next to them!”

Darting across everyone he was hugging you clinging to your arm as he chose a place to sit, no doubt worsening Ciel’s mood. In direct competition, Ciel took to your otherside slyly slipping his hand into yours.

“Ahem, (Y/n) is right we should attempt to peacefully discuss your intrusion.”

“Intrusion!? How rude! (Y/n) we were in danger and had nowhere else to go!”

“Don’t cling to them like that!”

You sent a look to Sebastian eager to usher everyone into a calmer state. Hopefully you could end this without bloodying your hands.

[Continue?]

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