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corruptedcaps · 9 months ago

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Bitchy Besties

“Leave me alone Cory! This is weird and creepy! This is why we broke up over the summer! You can't do this, not as we are about to start our senior year tomorrow! For a computer genius you really are stupid sometimes!” Kate said as stomped away angrily from her ex boyfriend.

Kate had been eager to get started on her course work for the year that she came in a day early to prep but was rudely interrupted by her Cory her ex boyfriend who she had been dodging calls from all summer.

“Please Kate! I did this for you! I know you were against this plan from the start but you have to help me finish it now, it will change you life!” Cory pleaded with her while holding the length of hair extensions he had stolen from Tanya, the biggest bitch in school.

“I didn’t want you to do this! Even if I believed that you were right, that Tanya got her confidence, her meanness, her power from her hair extensions, why would I ever want that?” Kate said finally stopping to face him.

“Because she’s been your bully for years and if you can take that power from her then you can finally stand up to her.” Cory said with no ounce of insincerity.

Kate wasn’t buying it though, she knew he just got off on this ‘corruption fetish’. She had caught him one day jacking off to posts online from some woman called ‘Evie’. Each story had someone go from a loser into a slutty mean bitch like Tanya. Even now she could see his crotch twitch.

It was why they broke up. Cory got it into his mind that because Tanya wore extensions that they were somehow the source of her ‘bitchiness’. The whole thing was absurd to Kate and the stories she had read were filthy. She wished he would listen to her. That’s when it hit her. All of Evie’s stories that she had read had the men subservient to the women so if she could ‘transform’ then maybe she could tell him to leave her alone for good.

“Fine! Give me that stupid thing!” Kate said annoyed as Cory handed her the hair and then handed her a bag.

“Wait what’s all this?” She asked about the bag.

“Well I figured once you change you’ll want to be in something more Tanya’s style, so inside is a dress, jewelry, makeup, and shoes.” He said with a sick grin. Kate rolled her eyes.

“Fine but stay here, I’m getting changed in the bathroom.” She said and he looked sad that he wouldn’t see the transformation first hand.

Entering the bathroom she emptied the bag onto the counter and saw with disgust the tight slutty clothes he had chosen. Sighing she just made peace with what she was about to do, once she had this done she could move on with her life.

Stripping off her baggy clothes she poured herself into the slick leather pants and tight white top. Both surprisingly fit her well. She had never considered herself to be the same size as Tanya but then again she was used to dressing as if it was perpetual winter. Even her boobs looked pretty good in the top, it helped that she had developed early but hid them from the world.

Eyeing the jewelry next, she put on the hoop earrings and the necklace. She thought she would feel weighed down by it all, but it all felt remarkably light on her body. The necklace even drew the eye to her cleavage, as if by design.

Next she stepped into the high heel shoes which were bigger than anything she was used to. Taking her first few steps she felt unsteady but after about a minute she was a natural. She thought to herself that her years wearing soccer cleats must be helping her adapt quickly.

Her most daunting task were the fake nails and makeup. She hated makeup with a passion but she needed to do this so picked up the makeup brush and began applying a soft foundation. It reminded her of art class which she loved and imagined her face as a canvas. She gave herself a smoky eye, a bold lip, sharp eyebrows. She was actually impressed by it all. Her lips looked fuller, her blue eyes more piercing.

Snapping on the long fake nails was a breeze too. She never understood before how girls could do anything with their nails so long but as she took out her phone to take a quick selfie of her finished self she found the clicky clack of the nails against her phone screen strangely satisfying.

However before she took the picture she realized she was missing one thing, the main thing that this was all about. The hair. Picking up the long extensions, Kate was thankful that her and Tanya had the same shade of colour otherwise it would look odd.

Clipping it on, she quickly found it was hard to find where her own hair ended and the extensions began. Running her hand through it she couldn’t find the seam, it all felt the same.

According to all the filthy stories she had read this was the moment where the ‘evil’ part of her would take over or Tanya’s soul would corrupt hers. Instead she just broke out into a laugh. She couldn’t believe Cory actually believed this would do anything. When she had broken up with him she had been crest fallen about it but now she was glad she had.

“What a loser.” She muttered to herself as she stroked her hair. She did have to admit she felt kind of empowered being in the get up. As if she were like a super hero who transformed into their costume. Although she was dressed more like a baddie in every sense of the word. Now she just had to act the part.

Closing her eyes she remembered back to the Evie stories she had read and tried to channel the girls in them. She thought about Tanya and her walk, her posture, her sneer. If she was going to get Cory to stop bothering her for good she needed to be convincing.

Opening her eyes she put a hand on her hip and stared at her reflection with the same contempt she has seen in Tanya’s face a thousand times, like she had smelt something rotten. The makeup helped make her expression cold and cruel.

“You think you can just walk around here dressed like a bargain bin reject and not get bullied, haha you’re pathetic.” Kate said with pitch perfect bitchy tone followed by an evil grin that curled up naturally.

“You’re the new girl here so you don’t yet understand that I rule this place. I’m the queen bee. I’m the head bitch. I’m Kate…” she began to say but her own name felt weird. Kate wasn’t the name of a bullying bitch, it belonged to a kind and sporty girl who kept to herself. No she needed a new name for her new persona.

When the name came to her she knew she was ready. Taking one last look at herself, she gave herself a wink and strutted out of the bathroom.

The first thing Cory heard was the clip clop of her heels and so was drawn to looking at her feet first. His eyes travelled up her body and every inch closer to the top he found himself get harder. By the time he got to her face he was pitching a tent.

“Eww do you have a boner you creep?” Kate said in her fake bitchy tone but the disgust was all hers. She couldn’t believe she ever dated him.

“I’m sorry Kate you just look like, my god…” he said his mouth agape. Kate knew she needed to turn on the haughty superiority, someone like Tanya wouldn’t stand for this.

“Kate? Who the fuck is Kate? I’m Kayleigh and why are you even talking to me loser?” She snarled at him. He seemed to shrink in her presence, a fact that made Kayleigh strangely proud.

“I-I’m sorry Ka-Kayleigh I d-didn’t mean anything by…” he started but Kayleigh just rolled her eyes.

“D-d-d-dipshit. God you’re pathetic. Is this what the school has in terms of men? Don’t you ever bother me again you hear me? Now scram loser before I give you something to really stutter about.” Kayleigh said glaring at Cory who froze for a moment before running off down the hall. Kayleigh watched as he tried to hide his erection from her.

“Phew that outta do it.” She thought and dropped her bitchy stance, letting her shoulders slump. However what she heard next sent a shiver through her body.

“Impressive what you did to that little weasel.” Said a voice behind her that she knew belonged to Tanya. Reasserting her mean girl stance, Kate pivoted around to see Tanya leaning against a doorway.

This couldn’t have gone south quicker, Kate thought, here she was standing feet away from her bully, wearing her clothes, jewelry, makeup and shoes. Tanya strutted over to her like a predator. Inside Kate braced herself but Tanya stopped just in front of her.

“You know I caught him stealing from me recently? Glad someone made him realize what a twerp he is. Are you new here?” Tanya said eying Kate but seeing only Kayleigh. If Kate was going to get out of this unscathed she needed to continue to act like Kayleigh a little more.

“Yeah I am. Its Kayleigh. Daddy got a job here and we are scouting schools. I have to say that this one isn’t impressing me much.” Kayleigh said, the disgusted tone flowing effortlessly out of her mouth.

“Ugh tell me about it. I begged mommy and daddy to send me to Alpha prep but they wanted me to mingle with the ‘common’ kids.” Tanya said disdainfully.

“Alpha prep? Babe those uniforms would have looked bomb on your fabulous figure.” Kayleigh said flattering her enemy.

“Right? I had all these plans to modify it to make me the hottest bitch there but being queen of this dump does have its perks, like getting early access to test answers for the semester, otherwise I wouldn't be seen dead here on a weekend." Tanya said holding up a sheet of paper with various subjects listed.

“Totally. Being here on a Sunday is making my skin crawl.” Kayleigh sneered in a way that Tanya found familiar but enjoyable. She didn’t recognize her own sneer that Kayleigh was mimicking perfectly.

"Hey why don't you let me take you to the mall and I'll show you around the best stores and I can fill you in on all the juicy gossip. I can give you a better sense of this school than you can walking these dusty halls.” Tanya asked. This wasn’t what Kate had in mind, she knew this would just prolong her time as Kayleigh but she was finding herself not caring as much as she had before. A few hours of pretend wouldn’t kill her.

“Totes babe I was thinking the exact same thing.” Kayleigh said and Tanya practically grabbed her and locked arms with her.

“I’ll show you what fun two hotties like us can have. By the way I love your outfit, it’s totally my style.” Tanya smiled at her as she led Kayleigh out of the school away from her baggy clothes hidden in the bathroom, away from her identity as Kate.

To be continued…

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #self corruption #cc2024 #bitchybesties

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sorrowsofsilence · 8 months ago

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Burning Out • VIII

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 5.4k

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter Eight - Fool Myself (EDITED: 09-03-24)

new? start from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

Noah turned away from us, shaking his head. “It's none of your business.”

“It is my business now.” Nicholas stood up, positioning himself next to me in a protective manner.

I furrowed my brow and took a step back from Ruffilo. “Can someone please explain what's going on?”

A cynical smirk appeared on Ruffilo's face as he let out a quick laugh, scoffing at the brunette in front of him. “You didn't ask her where you really wanted to take her out, did you?”

Noah ran a hand over his face. “I was getting there.”

I looked between them again before turning my head towards Noah. “Where were you planning to take me?”

Noah licked his lips thoughtfully before turning to me. “I need your help.”

+++++

“Y/N hurry up!” Kiean yelled, his blonde curls bouncing underneath his black hood as he threw the canvas duffle bag towards me, placing his gun between his waistband. He ran behind the counter, typing on the keyboard of the desk computer frantically.

The alarms blared between the walls as I hastily tried to listen to the clicks of the safe, my heart racing as adrenaline rushed through me, my hands sweating beneath the leather gloves.

My breath quickened beneath the full white masquerade mask, the moisture building between the plastic and my skin, causing my chest to heave.

In a matter of minutes, the police would arrive and a shoot-out would begin.

‘k-12 to k-11’, Kean screamed over his walkie, my senses completely overloaded as the mixture of sounds rang through my ears.

‘k-11 to k-12, over.’

‘status of the doors?’

I looked away from the safe briefly towards the glass front doors, watching as the other masked figures held the rifles pointed towards the blocked exterior. I turned back as I anxiously flicked between the code, seconds being wasted the longer I failed to open it.

‘blocked.’ the voice responded.

‘hostages?’ Kiean asked.

‘detained.’

My gaze fell upon the huddled figures crouched on the ground, their bodies curled up in a defensive posture as they trembled with terror. A second group of armed men loomed over them, pressing the barrel of a rifle against the skin of a woman who fought back with her words, resulting in a deafening chorus of screams as one of the men fired his gun.

I closed my eyes, wishing to wake up from this nightmare.

But it was real.

“Is that fucking safe open yet?”

My blood ran cold as a shiver ran through my spine, the voice of my bad decision stopping my fingers mid-turn.

A gloved hand gripped the back of my neck and I looked up at the mask that mirrored my own, the only skin was his piercing green eyes that glared at me, filled with outrage. My lungs could no longer suck in oxygen as I gasped for a breath, desperate.

“You have ten fucking seconds to open that door, or I'll blow your brains out, you pathetic piece of shit.”

His fingers tightened around my neck, and I fought back tears as I watched in horror, trying to nod beneath his grip.

"Kade!" Kiean barked. "Leave her alone!"

Kade glared at me with disgust for a moment longer before releasing me, allowing me to gasp for air.

I used to be captivated by his green eyes.

+++++

Y/N

I perched on the edge of my bed, ending my phone call with my boss by blaming a bout of food poisoning. It was a classic excuse. I picked up the plastic mask and ran my fingers over the years of shame it represented, causing memories from my past to resurface in my mind. Noah was aware of some parts of my story, but not the whole reason why I had left my old life behind. Even though I knew he would most likely still accept me, I was too scared to tell him. The thought of sharing my full story with him made me anxious, and for now, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I think I lost my mind Everything I knew came falling down Anything I build comes crashing down

I was trying to leave my old life behind…but I knew I was experienced enough to help him.

However, I knew that this was going to tie me right back to those I left. If I helped him, I would be stuck in the never-ending loop again. They would find me.

I'm pleading, "God, not now" Save me from my sins before I leave Free me from the weight so I can breathe

But for some reason, I was willing to do anything for Noah.

Why?

I was clearly fucking crazy.

The more I fool myself The more I feel it creeping in I think I lost my mind again

+++++

NOAH

Y/N and I agreed to go tonight.

I was scared to ask her, especially after Ruffilo confronted us. I did genuinely want to take her out on a date. I wanted to spend time with her.

But I did need her help.

I outlined the heist plan and to my surprise, she agreed without hesitation. The look on her face left me puzzled. I was anticipating some resistance, but she simply took a deep breath and seemed lost in thought for a moment before nodding and saying she needed to gather a few items.

Her reaction was peculiar; it almost seemed like she was struggling with conflicting thoughts. Was she torn between her morals, knowing that what we were doing was wrong? Or was there something else going on?

I quickly sent a text to Vincent informing him that I would meet him immediately after the heist to sell the drugs, around midnight.

“See you then, Sebastian. Same spot.”

Hope coursed through my veins as the plans fell perfectly into place. I quickly grabbed my backpack and gear before rushing up the stairs to Y/N's room. I knocked on the door as I pushed it open, revealing Y/N sitting with a party mask in her hands. It was a simple white plastic mask with a beautiful black masquerade design spiralling around the eyes. I studied her expression as she continued to stare at the mask, flipping it around in her hands. Something about it seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I had seen it before.

“Do you want one of my masks?” I asked, sitting next to her on the mattress, assessing the plastic she traced her fingers with as if recalling a memory.

She took a shaky breath as she declined, turning to face me and giving me a curt smile, “This one works fine.”

I watched as Y/N’s shoulders began to shake in what I assumed was nervousness, and I placed a hand on hers that held the mask, “You don’t have to do this with me.”

She jumped lightly at my touch, leaving me confused before pulling away.

“I promised I would help you, Noah,” she said, getting up from her seat and grabbing her backpack.

Y/N pulled out a walkie-talkie from the bag, tossing one to me. I raised an eyebrow as I caught it, surprised to see such a high-tech radio in her possession.

“When did you get these?” I asked, almost laughing at the old-school equipment.

She shrugged nonchalantly, zipping up her backpack as she eyed me once more, “A long time ago. I'll give one to the boys too so we can stay connected. They can keep track of what's happening on the sidelines.”

I nodded as I placed the device in my cargo pants pocket. Y/N moved around the room, gathering various items before turning back to face me.

“Do you have extra clothes underneath your black outfit?” She asked with a serious expression that sent chills down my spine.

I turned my head to look at her, standing up from the bed, “No... should I?”

She nodded, raising an eyebrow as if it was obvious, “Yes, and grab another hat too.”

I gave her a curious look and followed her command, heading to the spare bedroom to grab some fresh clothes. Once we had everything we needed, we stood at the front door, ready to leave. Ruffilo was waiting for us by the stairs, his arms folded as he analyzed us before giving Y/N a tight hug and then turning to me.

"Stay safe out there. I'll be tracking you," he said with a nod, his concern evident in his gaze toward Y/N.

"Don't forget to keep your phone and my laptop on, with the password being Juice," Y/N reminded Nicholas, who nodded and gave her a thumbs up in response.

"Why?" I asked Y/N, surprised by their close relationship.

"You never know when you might need backup," she replied with a smile, but I could see the worry behind her eyes, which only heightened my own anxiety.

We exchanged nods before waving goodbye to Nicholas and leaving through the front door. The cool air hit my face, reminding me that this was happening - Y/N was coming with me. Was this truly a good idea?

We got into the van, with me in the driver's seat and Y/N in the passenger's seat.

"So," Y/N started as I pulled away from the curb and drove down the street, "I've never been to this pharmacy before and I have no idea how many cameras there are."

"Folio said there shouldn't be any inside since it's an old place, but there are probably two outside," I replied as I turned down the music in the car.

Y/N nodded in understanding, "Then we should park on Twelfth Ave so we're far enough away from any cameras near the pharmacy."

I hummed in agreement as I took a deep breath. Her knowledge and strategic thinking impressed me. "You seem to know what you're doing."

She briefly glanced at me before looking out the window, watching the city pass by. "I've seen enough movies."

I chuckled, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel. "I guess so."

We rode in silence for most of the trip, with soft music from the radio filling the void. As we approached Twelfth Ave, I parked on the side of the road.

"Ready?" I asked Y/N.

She hummed as she peered out the window, looking for cameras before giving me a nod.

“We’re good. Masks on before we get out.”

I laughed, cocking my head to the side, “Isn’t this my mission?”

She smiled at me, “Of course; but you asked for my help.”

“Touche,” I slipped the fabric over my head as I pulled my hood over. The car doors slammed shut and we began walking down the sidewalk, Y/N’s hands now governed with gloves.

“Walkie is set to channel 14?” She asked me, double-checking hers before clipping it to her belt.

“Yes,” I chuckled, reassuring her with a glance.

Y/N nodded, walking ahead of me quickly, “Ok. Before we hit the 13th street we need to check for more cameras, especially on the buildings across the street. Then scope out a place we can hide behind to change once we’re done.”

I blinked rapidly, surprised by her knowledge and instantly curious. I followed closely behind her, obeying her every command. As we reached 13th Ave, my eyes followed hers as she scanned the surrounding brick buildings, pointing out a camera across the street.

"That one has probably already seen us," she said, her voice hitching in her throat.

I instinctively pulled her back and turned her to face me. "What-"

"Let me finish," she cut me off, breathing heavily from behind her mask. "I need to call Nicholas."

The woman next to me dialled Ruffilo's number on her phone. Y/N grabbed my arm and led me to the side, between two buildings where we were sheltered by bricks.

"Hey, Ruffles," she whispered into the phone. "Yeah, everything's okay. I need your help with the cameras, can you get my laptop?"

I watched with curiosity as she spoke quietly into the phone.

"Log in to my computer and click on the blue app on my desktop, the one with an eye icon- yes- that one."

She glanced at me before looking down at the ground. "Password is Kade. K-A-D-E. All capitals."

Kade?

I felt my heart skip a beat at the mention of that name. Kade. Why did Y/N have a password with that name? And why did she seem so hesitant to say it out loud?

Y/N continued her hushed conversation with Nicholas, giving him instructions on how to access some kind of surveillance system. I tried to piece together what was happening, but my mind kept circling back to that name. Kade. It stirred something in my memory, but I couldn't quite place it.

Y/N held the phone closer to her ear, frantically beginning to pace, “OK, now I need you to type the address of Noah’s tracker into the box on the bottom. Grey box.”

My brows furrowed in confusion as I watched her actions. It was some serious spy-level stuff, and I couldn't understand how she knew about it or why she was doing it. It was making me question how well I actually knew Y/N. "Type in the IP address, including the zeros. Then click on the red icon that appears on the right."

“It’s asking for another password.” I could hear Nicholas on the other side of Y/N’s phone faintly.

“Try Kiean. K-I-E-A-N.”

“Nope.”

Y/N was silent for a moment, and I watched as her chest heaved beneath her black zip-up. She hesitated for a moment, as if the words were unable to escape her lips, “Try- try my name and the date 06-13.”

“Yeah, that worked. Now what?”

June 13?

I gazed into Y/N's eyes, trying to gauge her reaction behind her mask. Her eyelids were starting to glaze over with tears. "Okay, now click on the box that should have appeared," I instructed, my voice shaking slightly. "You'll need to enter this code... are you ready?"

I heard Nick hum and Y/N began spitting out random letters and numbers, “qqp;//0-0-0:879230/live.”

“Then put in Noah’s IP, and then continue with ‘.off/GO113MODULE=shutdown.”

What the fuck?

“Ok. That did something?”

“Did a timer pop up?” Y/N asked hastily, before eying me.

“Yeah- it says 7 minutes and it’s counting down.”

"Perfect. Thanks, Ruffles. Call me when two minutes are remaining.” Y/N hung up the phone before grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the ally towards the pharmacy.

“The cameras are down. We only have seven minutes to pull this off before the alarms alert the police.”

I had so many questions, but I could only stare at her in confusion and admiration.

We arrived at the pharmacy door, and I reached for my crowbar from its place on my back. I struggled for a moment, gritting my teeth as I pulled on the door.

Y/N mumbled, “Push instead of pulling. It's faster.” So I followed her instructions, and the door swung open within seconds.

“How did you know-”

But she paid no attention to my question and walked past me as the piercing sound of the alarm filled the street from inside the pharmacy. Adrenaline surged through me as we dove into action, quickly scanning shelves and frantically grabbing items to stuff into our extra backpacks. Heading towards the back of the store where the prescriptions were kept, I could feel my heart racing with every second that ticked by on the alarm clock.

Y/N followed my lead and quickly vaulted over the counter, squeezing herself between the tightly packed shelves. She scooped up different bottles and packets of pills, throwing them into her bag with practiced speed.

"You know what you're doing," I yelled over the blaring alarm, flinging bottles in every direction, trying to be as efficient as possible.

Y/N glanced at me but focused on her task, ignoring my question.

I leaned closer, grabbing her arm as she went for a bubble pack of pills. "How do you know all this from movies? The camera hack? What the hell?" I knew it was probably not the best time to interrogate her, but I couldn't help myself.

"Can you please shut up?" She seethed between gritted teeth, narrowing her eyes at me in frustration. "Right now, Noah, the cops could show up any minute. Focus on getting the money instead of worrying about me."

She snatched her arm away from my grip and moved to the other side of the counter, making her way to the cash register. I watched in amazement as she used a crowbar to pry open the drawer and gather the cash inside.

I shook my head in a mixture of disbelief and respect. Maybe taking Y/N along on this heist was a good idea after all.

Her phone rang and we both looked at each other, our eyes meeting through our masks. "Two minutes until the cameras turn on, we need to go!" She shouted over the blaring alarm.

I nodded in agreement before remembering one of the main reasons we were here: to grab her medication.

"Wait!" I called out, turning around. Diazepam, Adderall, Zolpidem.

My eyes scanned frantically through the shelves, searching for the specific medications. Adderall. Check. Diazepam. Check.

“Noah!” Y/N screamed, her arms raised as she stood at the door. The store alarm beeped in the background, accompanied by distant sirens that signalled their impending arrival.

“Wait- shit!” I bellowed, frantically searching through the last section. My gloved hand slid along the shelf as my heart raced with anticipation until I finally found what I was looking for: Zolpidem. Check. Y/N hovered near the door, her head swivelling between me and the outside world, peeking around the corner to see if any cops were approaching.

Snatching my bag from behind the counter, I stumbled slightly over the mess we had created but quickly caught myself. We sprinted out of the store and I grabbed Y/N’s arm, pulling her along with me.

My ears continued to ring as we ran and Y/N started pushing into me.

“Here,” she urged, pressing into my side as she led us down an alleyway further down the street.

“Take off your clothes,” she commanded with a heavy exhale, throwing her hood back and ripping off her mask as if it were a disgusting layer of skin.

“Can't it wait until we get home?” I tried to joke, but she glared at me without amusement given our current predicament. As my attempted smile faded, I barely registered the tears streaming down her cheeks as she took off her hoodie and pulled a pink one out of her bag. She threw on a pair of sweatpants over her shorts that were hidden beneath her jeans and knelt to put on a pair of white Converse.

I followed suit, quickly shedding my clothes before slipping into black and white shorts and a white hoodie. As I struggled to put on my vans, I hastily shoved everything back into my bag.

The sirens grew louder, the flashing lights bouncing off the surrounding buildings. We were filled with panic and as soon as Y/N was ready, I grabbed her hand and we ran down the alley together. I scanned the walls for a way out and my eyes landed on a ladder. I tugged at it to make sure it wouldn't collapse before starting to climb.

Y/N followed behind me and once we reached the top of the building, we paused for a moment to catch our breath. She watched me closely before I took off running again. The rocks and debris on the rooftop crunched under my feet as I sprinted, checking over my shoulder frequently to make sure Y/N was still with me and unharmed.

We reached the edge of the roof and surveyed our options. We were surrounded by tall buildings with no clear escape route. The wailing sirens from below urged us to make a decision quickly. My eyes landed on another nearby building with a ladder and ledge attached to it, but we would have to jump to reach it. It seemed risky, but it was our only option.

"Do you trust me?" I asked Y/N, catching my breath, as I looked into her mesmerizing E/C eyes illuminated by moonlight. She gave me a determined look and held out her hand in complete trust.

"Always," she whispered back, squeezing my hand firmly. Feeling reassured, I turned back to face the building ahead of us.

"Follow me," I said, giving her hand a final squeeze before letting go and preparing myself to jump.

With a deep breath, I leaped off the edge of the building, feeling the air rush past me before grabbing onto the ladder and pulling myself up. Once I was secure, I looked up at Y/N and gave her a thumbs up.

She hesitated for a moment, surveying the drop below us. But then she made up her mind and with determination, she followed my lead.

We cautiously made our way across the narrow ledge before reaching the end. I looked down and assessed our next move.

"Okay, we can swing off that pipe over there and onto the top of the dumpster. Then we run," I instructed Y/N, preparing myself for another jump.

She let out a small laugh, "Parkour?"

"Piece of cake," I matched her tone, trying to hide my nerves. "Just watch me." I took a deep breath and launched myself off the edge towards the pipe, landing safely on top of the dumpster. Y/N followed suit, laughing and out of breath but still determined to escape. We ran as fast as we could, adrenaline pumping through our veins as we fled from the approaching danger.

I gingerly walked across the narrow pipe, carefully distributing my weight and using my hands to maintain my balance as I made my way over the dumpster below. Once I was directly above it, I knelt and tested my grip before letting go of the pipe and dropping onto the plastic lid on top of the dumpster.

Y/N followed suit, but her fear showed as she hesitated while hanging onto the pipe with her eyes squeezed shut. "C'mon princess," I encouraged, "I'll catch you."

After a brief moment of consideration, she let go and I caught her in my arms, pulling her close to me. I held on for a moment longer than necessary, feeling grateful to have her by my side, but we still had a mission to complete.

We slid off the dumpster and landed on the cold pavement with a thud. Without hesitation, I grabbed Y/N's hand and we sprinted towards our getaway van. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins more powerfully than any caffeine rush ever could, making me feel truly alive with Y/N at my side.

As we reached the van and climbed inside, locking the doors behind us, we both sat silently catching our breath. My eyes flickered over to Y/N and she turned to face me with a wide grin plastered on her face.

"Damn," she exclaimed, "we did it."

I couldn't help but laugh along with her, feeling proud of what we had accomplished together.

"I can't believe that worked," I chuckled, my throat dry from exertion.

Our laughter died down and I turned to fully face her.

"Yeah..." She trailed off, her smile fading slightly as she seemed lost in thought.

"How did you-" I started to ask before she cut me off abruptly.

"I don't want to talk about it." Her response was curt and dismissive as she began to shut down once again now that the adrenaline had worn off. Her eyes remained fixed straight ahead and I watched her with confusion and concern, a million questions racing through my mind.

What was wrong? And how does she know so much?

As I started the car and gently revved the engine, I knew Y/N didn't want to talk about what had just happened. But I couldn't help but comment on her actions, "What you did back there was beyond impressive. Even I wouldn't have been able to do it."

Y/N remained silent, turning her body away from me.

"You've done this before," I stated with certainty.

Y/N's head snapped towards me, "Noah," she said my name angrily.

I licked my lips in annoyance, dropping the subject for now, "We need to visit someone before we head back."

She swallowed hard and nodded in silence.

As I drove, my mind raced with thoughts. Y/N clearly wasn't being truthful about her past. I recognized that mask from somewhere before. And I could tell by her skills that she must have pulled off some kind of heist before. Who was Kiean, anyway?

Thoughts consumed me until we finally reached the pier. I abruptly stopped the car near an alleyway and turned off the engine, grabbing my mask.

“Put your mask on,” I said, and she nodded, reaching into her bag. I watched as she placed the mask on top of her face and I followed with my own before we pulled the hoodies over our heads once again. I waited for Y/N to get out of the car, watching carefully as she closed the door.

I quickly grabbed her replacement meds from my bag, sliding them into the glovebox before grabbing both our backpacks. I slid out of the car, and walked next to her.

I leaned over, whispering, “Stay behind me, don’t say anything,” and Y/N nodded, trailing behind me as we walked down into the alleyway.

It was quiet, the only sound was our footsteps and distant traffic. I stopped Y/N with my arm before we walked any further down the cement, waiting.

Y/N breathed heavily, and seconds later we heard him.

“Sebastian!” Vincent’s voice boomed through the brick walls.

I cautiously kept my distance as he turned the corner, exposing himself. He walked towards us and flipped a coin between his fingers, tilting his head slightly as his eyes immediately latched onto Y/N. She stood behind me, almost hidden.

“a friend?” His voice raised slightly in question.

I instinctively held out my arm to shield Y/N from danger, but she pushed past me and stood by my side. Vincent immediately stopped flipping his coin when he saw her, a look of recognition in his eyes as he focused on the masked girl standing beside me. He seemed completely entranced by her, and I felt a pang of unease in my stomach at the way he stared. Y/N and I exchanged glances, both of us visibly shaken. A deep chuckle rumbled from Vincent's chest before he spoke, leaving me confused by his words.

“We live in a twilight world.”

Y/N stiffened beside me, silent for a moment before responding.

“And there are no friends at dusk.”

I turned to her, my mind racing in confusion. The tension between them was palpable, almost suffocating. It was clear that there was some sort of connection between them.

She recognized him. He recognized her.

But how? How could they know each other?

Then it hit me - the mask.

Vincent looked away from their eye contest first, the shine of his grillz radiating once he smiled at me.

“What do you have for me? Other than an oh-so-riveting friend.”

I brushed off his question about Y/N and swung my backpack off my shoulders. I unzipped it in front of him, exposing the numerous bottles of pills inside.

“Looks like quite a score,” Vincent chuckled, letting out a low whistle, “But I don't have enough money on me for all that.”

I tried to hide my disappointment, “Then what can I get you?”

“I brought the same amount as last time,” He gestured towards the bag, “Do you have any more Adderall? And maybe some zolpidem and diazepam?”

Don't worry, I'll be lost in echoes Be laughing on my own It's tragic, but it's the only life I know (Only life I know)

My breath caught in my throat as my eyes began to widen, and I stared at him.

“From whatever that name was- Y-N? Something?”

My body froze, immediately afraid to look in her direction. From my peripheral, I saw her remain perfectly still. Too still.

What should I do, what should I be? (I'm at a turning point right now) I'm so full of rage, too blind to see

“Uh- n-no.” I stammered, taking a step back as I avoided Y/N’s gaze, “I have a few opioids.”

Vincent shrugged, smiling, “Ah sounds good.”

I looked at the bag as my hands began to shake.

“I’ll take those today for twenty-five hundred. But uh, bring the others next time. They sold great. I’ll offer thirty-five hundred,” Vincent said, reaching into the bag to assess some of the bottles.

I swallowed harshly as I nodded, “Yeah- I’ll get some of those.”

Vincent whipped out his testing kid, assessing each of the bags and bottles before pulling out the cash.

“Thanks for the transaction, Sebastian,” he said with a nod as he handed the bundle to me. He then turned to Y/N with a taunting smile and licked his lips before saying, "I'll see you at the beginning, friend."

Y/N nodded back at him before quickly turning away and heading towards the car.

As she walked away, I stole one last glance at Vincent who was watching curiously.

"Take care," I said in a conflicted tone before jogging after Y/N, who had disappeared from view in the alleyway.

She was already sitting in the car, her mask tossed onto the dashboard as she stared blankly at her lap.

I sat down in the driver's seat, too afraid to say anything when I saw how defeated she looked.

The words that escaped her lips sounded broken and strained. "I trusted you."

My heart pounding in agony as she fixated on her lap with disappointed eyes. I swallowed harshly, panicking. As my heart hammered the only question that left my mouth was Why.

I wanted to blame her as if it was her fault for trusting me. As if she’s the one who made me steal her drugs. Part of me wanted to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her, my body fighting the urge to shame her for being so kind.

The more I fool myself The more I feel it creeping in I think I lost my mind again

“Why would you trust a criminal like me?”

As soon as the question left my lips I had sunk into the seat of the car, shame taking over. I was never meant to be the good guy.

The more I start to fall The more I don't see me at all I think I lost my mind again

Her eyes lowered, suddenly feeling small and unsure. "B-because?" She stuttered, "You're not a bad person, Noah."

But I am. It's my fault for taking advantage of her.

"Why did you do it?" She asked, still fixated on her hands.

"Why else?" My hands ran over my face in frustration, "I need the damn money. It's not like I do this for fun."

I keep seeing myself at the end of a yellow rose, consumed by guilt and regret. This feeling is unfamiliar to me, like a seed planted deep in my bones.

My soul turned its back on me as I burned bridges with my actions. Just another wasted human burdening this skin.

"I tried giving you other options - like the bar or a job at the cafe," she rambled, gesturing wildly as she explained.

"And I'm grateful," I reached out towards her arm, but she pulled away and pressed herself against the window defensively.

My hand fell back in shame, "but it's still not enough. It's hard to make money when it's just me doing these jobs."

"I understand that," she said, crossing her arms and hugging herself, "but I told you I would help."

And it pulls me further from the point that I belong And all you wanna do is take me, break me, hide me away Or you can shame me, blame me, burn me at the stake on a lie 'Cause my own mind wilts at the thought of being alive And that I'd like it if I tried

Whispering, she said, “You didn’t have to go behind my back. You could have just asked me.”

“I- the reason I did this specific robbery,” I explained, opening the glovebox in front of her to reveal the plastic bottles, “was to get your medications. That’s why I’ve been so distant.”

She looked at the orange bottles with a detached expression.

“I’ve been consumed by guilt ever since, barely able to even look at you,” my voice began to rise, “How messed up am I? To do something like that to you, knowing that those meds are supposed to help you?”

I shook my head in frustration and slammed the glovebox shut, causing Y/N to jump.

The more I fool myself The more I feel it creeping in I think I lost my mind again

“Y/N,” I whispered now, “I am so sorry I did this to you. I am so sorry I dragged you into this.”

The more I start to fall The more I don't see me at all I think I lost my mind again

Chapter 9

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

#burning out fanfic #sorrows of silence #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens smut

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walidgoldpreppy · 3 months ago

Text

A Golden indoctrination for Anthony

After returning home, Anthony is seized by a new obsession: to stay within the rules. His casual clothes that he loved so much, those worn shorts and t-shirts, no longer seem appropriate to him. Instinctively, he can no longer allow himself to slack off. He checks his phone and sees that he has received a new message from *Waltergold*, accompanied, this time again, by a video. Without even thinking, he puts on his headphones and presses "play".

The golden background fills his screen. Unlike the first video, there is no flickering, just this golden glow, captivating, still. Anthony feels his thoughts calm down, his mind immersed in this perfect light. "It's beautiful", he thinks. "It's magnificent…"

When he blinks again, he realizes that it is night. He looks at the clock: 6am. He’s all sore, his muscles aching, as if he’s had a hard workout. He glances around his apartment and notices that he’s packed up his things, changed his clothes during the night. Next to him, a summary of his order from a formal wear website is displayed on his computer: shirts, dress pants, ties, suit, dress shoes everything is there. He also has a confirmation of a registration at a local gym.

Anthony gets up slowly, still groggy, and decides to make a healthy breakfast. He makes himself scrambled eggs, whole-wheat toast, and a protein smoothie. While eating, he checks his messages on Tumblr. *Waltergold* has texted him again.

“Package’s been sent, bro. It’ll be here soon.”

He can’t suppress a shiver of excitement. For some reason, he can’t wait to receive this package. Everything in his life seems to be taking a new turn. He also decides to confirm his registration at the gym he found online. It is associated with the local soccer team, which seems to him to be a good sign.

Anthony wakes up early, feeling full of motivation. He packs his bag to go to the gym before going to work. He carefully chooses his clothes: a pair of sneakers, black technical fabric shorts, a short-sleeved shirt for training, and formal clothes for the office. He opts for a light blue cotton shirt, black fitted pants, brown leather dress shoes, a tie with subtle diagonal stripes, and does not forget his classic steel wristwatch. Everything has to be perfect.

Once his bag is ready, he heads to the gym. It is located not far from his home, modern and well-equipped. When he arrives, he goes to the reception, where he is greeted with a cordial smile. The walls are decorated with photos of local teams, trophies, and men in action on the field. One detail catches his eye: several of these men are wearing Gold jerseys, just like the ones he saw in the Team Gold stories.

As he begins his session, Anthony listens to the new soundtrack sent by *Waltergold*. He has called it “Training.” The track starts with regular beats, reminiscent of a running rhythm, mixed with words he can barely make out.

“Discipline… Obedience… Conformity…”

These words resonate in his mind, almost in synchronicity with his movements. He runs on the mat, doing series of push-ups and squats, feeling more and more focused, as if the track is strengthening his determination.

As he walks around the room, he notices several men. Some are wearing that famous Gold jersey. They are tall, muscular, their bodies seem perfectly sculpted. Their tight jerseys show off every muscle in their torsos, and each jersey bears a name emblazoned in bright Gold numbers on the back. They train with methodical precision, their gazes focused, almost unwavering. Their movements are fluid, as if they are part of a well-rehearsed choreography, a discipline that impresses Anthony. He can’t help but watch them, fascinated.

After two hours of intense effort, Anthony is exhausted but satisfied. His muscles burn, but it’s a feeling he’s learning to appreciate. He heads to the locker room, where he quickly undresses to wash himself.

Under the hot water of the shower, he thinks back to these men, their Gold jerseys, and their apparent devotion to a team, to a cause.

Once he’s done showering, he changes. His movements are almost mechanical, instinctive. He first puts on his underwear, then his fitted black pants. The soft material slides easily against his still damp skin. Next, he puts on his light blue shirt, carefully ironed, and adjusts it perfectly around his neck before buttoning each button with almost obsessive precision. He knots his tie carefully, checking several times that the knot is perfectly centered and that no creases disturb its perfection. Finally, he puts on his brown leather dress shoes, their impeccable shine briefly catching the light.

Before leaving the locker room, he looks at himself in the mirror one last time, running a hand through his carefully gelled hair, making sure each strand is in its place, and checks his tie knot again. Everything is in order.

On the way to work, Anthony feels strangely calm, but also determined. Something in him has changed, and he’s not sure he can go back.

(End of part 4)

Part 3

#golden army #gold #ai generated #brainwashing #conformity #gay men #hypnotized #join us #male transformation #preppification #preppy #suit and tie

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shiftingwithmars · 3 months ago

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“Men created literally everything! What have women ever created?🙄”

dishwashers

Wifi

life raft

airplane muffler

anti-fungal drug

beer

bulletproof fiber

car heater

chemotherapy

fire escape

geobond

globes

gifs

hairbrush

home security system

medical syringe

MBTI

naturally colored cotton

paper bag machine

pastry fork

permanent wave machine

Pertussis Vaccine

photo enhancement

radium and polonium

ReCell

Retractable dog leash

rolling pin

sanitary belt

signal flares

science fiction

space station batteries

stem cell isolation

submarine telescope and lamp

thermoelectric power generator

VoIP

waterproof leather protector

windshield wipers

computer programming

Apgar score

dna double helix

kevlar

you know, a lot of stuff that has either

A) saved your life

B) something you use in everyday life!

#feminism #feminine rage #how I love being a woman #Let’s go girls!#Man I feel like a woman

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sonnetsoncanvas · 1 year ago

Text

Mess it up : pt 6 (Series Finale)

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT AHEAD, masturbation (M ), oral (F receiving), fingering, overstimulation, Dirty talk? Cum play if you squint, possessive bucky.

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: WE'RE AT THE END OF THIS SERIES!!! Oh my god I can't believe it. Thank you so, so much for all the love and appreciation you guys have shown to this <3. Thank you for bearing with my tardiness with the updating, I'm planning to be more punctual in the future. I'm also opening the asks shortly. Happy reading! (it's a long one),

Let it happen. Let it happen

Reader POV:

The conversation flowed seamlessly.

The food and the wine were sublime.

In front of you sat a man so beautiful, he surely would have been Aphrodite’s favourite.

And yet, you felt nothing. Not the flutter of a single butterfly, not the warm fuzz of budding attraction. Nothing. Nada.

Your brain did not compute, Pietro was a great guy. Good looking, kind, intellectual. On paper, he was a good, if not a perfect match for you.

And yet you could not feel that connection that your heart had been longing for. The notorious “spark” had been missing during the entire interaction.

You’re just out of practice, your brain reasoned, but your heart had a different opinion, in which you weren’t interested.

Suddenly, the hair at the back of your neck stood up, a warning of sorts. A warning your intuition gave you whenever he was around.

Surreptitiously you tried looking around, while slightly nodding your head to show your interest in whatever Pietro was talking about. A little more to your left…….

There he was. Dressed in leather, eyes dripping with dangerous enigma. Staring at you.

You held his heated gaze for what felt like sometime, your heart jumpstarting in your chest.

What is he doing here? And more importantly, why?

You turned your head back towards Pietro, who hadn’t noticed you were distracted, and tried your best to focus on him.

You had promised yourself while leaving the house that you won’t let Bucky ruin this date for you, and you won’t.

But the date itself went downhill from there. Sitting in front of Pietro, you realised how self-centred and smug he was. What you had clearly misjudged as confidence during your brief meeting, was most obviously narcissism. Not only had he not asked you a single question about yourself, he had rudely butted in whenever you tried to talk, hogging all of the conversation and making it about him.

Frankly, you were irritated. In between the ceaseless yammering from Pietro and Bucky’s heated gaze burning a hole in the back of your head, you were exhausted. By the time dessert arrived, you were ready to go home.

But of course, Mr. Self-absorbed Maximoff wasn’t having it.

“What do you mean you’ll be going home now? The night has just started Y/N. Tell you what, come back to my place, we’ll have a couple of drinks and then we can start having some fun.”

Alright, so being polite isn’t working, time to be direct with him and get this over with.

“I don’t think so Pietro. You’re cool and all, but I honestly do not see anything happening between us, based on today. So, let’s just call it a day, okay?” you had already paid your half of the bill, so you grabbed your bag, ready to leave. But just looking at his face, his male ego had been bruised, and he was ready to give you a piece of his mind.

Great. As if you already didn’t have enough of that all evening.

“Based on today? What are you talking about, we had a great date. Seriously what else do you expect on a first date?! What a waste of an evening! I was saddled with a boring, lacklustre date, a grandma really, and you don’t see me complaining….”

“Men” you thought. You were about to stand up and leave, ready to leave this man to spluttering to himself, when you felt an overbearing presence approach. You immediately knew who it was.

“Is that a way to talk to a lady?” Bucky asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“umm heyyy Bucky? How’s it going?” Pietro was surprised and probably intimidated by him, if you read his face correctly. If he had a bit of self-preservation, he would have left before Bucky would explode, but of course he had to keep talking about how long it’s been since he last saw him to divert his attention.

But the fuming 6ft boulder next to you was having none of that. “Apologise” he commanded, the danger in his voice palpable.

Pietro paled. “I’m sorry, What?”

“If you know what’s good for you, you will apologise to y/n for the way you talked to her, and leave before I kick your sorry ass.”

“How dare you threaten me….” Pietro was now stuttering, standing up to face Bucky, only to have his collar grabbed by the displeased man. The patrons of the bar were now very interested in this exchange, a few of whom had their phones out, recording the ordeal.

You were too tired for this shit, but also you couldn’t leave Bucky here, ready to break your date’s bones.

You tugged his arm to stop him from raining fire at Pietro through his eyes and look at you instead.

“I’m really tired and need a ride home. Drive me back. Please.”

His eyes immediately softened, his rage transforming into tenderness. You tried to ignore your heart going berserk and focus on the crisis at hand.

“Whatever you need, doll”

That endearment had you frozen. It was his nickname for you from years ago, used in secrecy, whispered in dark for your ears only.

The way he said it after so long, unbidden, in front of an audience, had rendered you speechless. You were too stunned to react even as he led you out of the bar by hand, cocooning you away from prying eyes.

Bucky’s POV

Bucky was angry. No, he was furious. Offended.

Not at you. never at you. but at himself. At the shitty situation he was in.

And most of all at Pietro Fucking Maximoff. How dare that son of a bitch talk to you like that. He hated that he left that turd unharmed, his hands still itching to punch that fucker’s smug face. If only it hadn’t been for you.

He looked over at you, lost in your own thoughts in the passenger seat, understandably upset, but also pensive. What would he not give to know what you were thinking.

Did you like Pietro? Were you hoping to get asked out to another date, and he ruined it?

He didn’t dare voice his questions though. As soon as the car stopped you jumped out, slamming the door behind you. normally, Bucky won’t let this slide, but right now the well being of his beloved car was the last thing on his mind as he ran behind you, tossing the keys to the doorman.

He entered the elevator right behind you, but kept his silence as he didn’t want his neighbours in there have a show. As soon as you both entered the apartment, you hurried towards your room, a frantic Bucky in tow.

“Y/N LISTEN TO ME! LET’S TALK ABOUT IT.” He wedged his foot between the door and the frame as you tried to shut it on him. “Y/N HEAR ME OUT FOR GOD’S SAKE!”

Thank goodness Steve and Natasha were sleeping at her place tonight, or that would be another headache to deal with.

He heard you take a deep, calming breath and slowly the door opened.

“Yes, James, what would you like to talk about?” you asked, your eyes burning with rage, “How you crashed the first date I’ve had in years? Or how you viciously threatened a friend of mine, and yours, publicly, with bodily harm?”

You took a step forward, reducing the distance between you even further “Or maybe you can shed some light on why the hell were you there in the first place?”

Bucky remained quiet, a thousand things swirling in his mind, but none of them came to his lips.

He was genuinely scared of this version of you, the menacing lawyer you who’d rip her opposition to shreds. And to be honest, a little turned on. Very turned on in fact.

Trust his brain to malfunction when it comes to you.

“You wanted me to hear you out, I’m listening James.”

Your eyes bore into his, and he could feel his heart trying to escape his chest.

“I was in that Bar to see you, doll.”

Bucky could’ve easily lied, told you that he was there to see someone, that Sam brought him there. But he was done. Done with lying to you, to the world, hiding the love he had for you deep in his heart as if it were a filthy secret when it was the purest thing he ever felt.

From now on, this very moment, he’s shedding that cloak, baring his soul to you.

You looked surprised at his statement but recovered quickly, “Why?”

“Because I didn’t trust that fucker with you. he doesn’t deserve you.”

“And it matters to you, why?”

“Everything you do matters to me. Every breath you take, that air matters to me. Every time you open your eyes, that light matters to me. Each time you speak, that sound matters to me. You matter to me. You’re the only person that has ever mattered to me. Only you doll.” His voice wavered with emotion, but he stood straight, staring right back into your now teary eyes.

He knew you were scared, he could see it in your eyes, but Bucky wasn’t going anywhere. He would endure

You shook your head multiple times before you could speak, “No. no no no no no no, you can’t do this to me again, no. I’m not falling for that again, no. I can’t trust you, there no way to know … no”

You crumbled into him, clutching your heart. He held on to you tightly, even when you started pounding weakly onto his chest. He was never letting you go.

“Let me show you, my love. Let me show you how much I’ve ached for you all these years” he moved back so he could see into your eyes, “Let me show you that you can trust me.”

It started with a small brush of your lips against his. Bucky did not know who did it, he didn’t care. All he cared for was the animalistic desire welling up inside him, his heart and mind screaming with relief. What began as a tender, comforting kiss turned into a fierce war of dominance. You were nothing if not competitive, kissing Bucky back as if he’s your last chance at survival.

He tugged your lower lip; you pulled his hair. You pushed your tongue in his mouth; he tangled it with his.

It was an equal transaction of desperation and longing, and Bucky’s heart rejoiced. You were fighting, not resisting, which meant that you were burnt by the same fire that had consumed him for the past four years.

Your hands wandered down from his hair to his neck to finding the muscles on his back until they reached their destination, the hem of his t-shirt. You impatiently tugged on it, pulling it up his waist. Bucky got the hint, and without thinking, broke the kiss off to get rid of it. And froze.

He was half naked, his chest bare, his magnificent abs on display. But that wasn’t what concerned him. It was the way you were looking at the scars on his left shoulder, the stump where his metal arm was joined to his shoulder socket. Bucky had never cared what anybody thought of it, but seeing you look at it terrified him. What if you were horrified by it; disgusted? What if you thought of him as some charity, as a chore?

Bucky knew he wasn’t good enough for you, but if heard you say it out loud, it would kill him.

You lifted your hand to shoulders, your fingers lightly tracing the ragged lines, that were still red, even after years of medication. Tears rimmed his eyes when you bent down to kiss them, your tongue repeating your finger’s actions. When you raised your head to look at him, full of tenderness and love, all the negative thoughts in Bucky’s head vanished, replaced by reverence for his doll

“Y/N” he whispered.

“Don’t hide yourself Bucky, not from me.” He was too emotional to register that it was your first time calling him Bucky in so many days, but the sound of his name from your mouth aroused a primal, protective, almost violent emotion.

There is no way he is letting you go now. It isn’t physically possible for him.

He grabs you like a frenzied caveman, throwing you onto the bed with surprising gentleness and buries his head in your neck, sucking, biting and licking, ensuring that your neck is marked with his devotion for you. his hand, in the meantime, travelled down to your chest, caressing your breasts. His tongue laved on one nipple, while his metal fingers lightly pinched the other. The opposing hot and cold sensations made you dizzy, a wanton moan slipping out.

“BUCKY” you whined, wriggling your body as he worshipped your breasts.

“Calm down, sugar. You don’t want me tying you down to the bed, now do you?” he said in this sweet, maddeningly low voice that he knew drove you to the brink, and slowly made his way down your body, leaving a trail of kisses. His lush lips were swollen already, but he didn’t care. For years he had starved for your taste, and now that he’s getting a bite, he’s gonna devour you all.

With this new determination he slinks down to your thighs, kissing the scattering of hair on your mound before sinking into that sweet perfection between your legs. He took a deep breath, inhaling your arousal, your whines growing more insistent, begging and pleading him to do something, anything about the burning craving in your belly.

“You’re fucking soaked for me doll.” He said, gliding his fingers through your slit, collecting your dripping arousal . He couldn’t resist putting his fingers into his mouth, tasting that sweet tangy essence of your desire. He moaned, loud , as if it was the most delicious this his tongue had ever tasted.

You looked on, your eyes dazed by this shameless side of the well mannered Bucky Barnes. It had been so fucking long since you’d seen him this uninhibited, you sometimes wondered whether it was your brain making up how filthy he used to be.

But right here, right now, was the truth. James Buchanan Barnes was the filthiest, nastiest lover ever, and he was about to ruin you, again.

He slowly licked your slit, relishing in the feel of it. And then, after a calm second, pounced on your pussy like a mad man.

He kissed and sucked your clit, his flesh hand busy with your pussy while his metal one curled around your thigh, spreading it wide and keeping you still. His index finger slowly inching in your tight entrance. His brain short circuited at the feel of you around his finger, his cock throbbing painfully at the thought of being in you.

“Look at you doll, so tight, so wet. I’d have to stretch you out now, don’t I?” He added another finger, scissoring them inside you, earning a particularly loud moan from you. Bucky was sure by this time he had rendered you to your cockdrunk state. It was a thing you did, retreating to your subspace as he drew out pleasure from your body.

The thought that you still trusted him him enough to leave your guard down like this drove him crazy. “You want more baby?” he implored, digging his metal fingers in your skin so that you’d become lucid enough to answer him, but you were too far gone, lost in the sensations of him.

Just then an idea hit him, he extracted wet warm fingers from your pussy, eliciting a cute whine from you, and switched hands, pushing his metal fingers past your entrance.

The unfamiliar feel and cold temperature of the metal jerked you out of your haze, a surprised welp coming out of your mouth as he smirked, bending down to give you a messy kiss. He kept bombarding your mouth, nose and cheeks with sweet open-mouthed kisses, just as he increased the pace of his fingers pumping into you faster and harder, curving them to brush your G-spot in a way he had learned to years ago. His thumb rubbing cool slow circles on your clit.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky was rutting on your thigh, his still clothed cock dripping with pre-cum, finding sweet relief while hem focused on your shivering, writhing body. He knew by the intensity of your moans and the clenching of your pussy that you were close, you just needed something extra to tip you over the edge. And boy, did Bucky know how to do that.

He knelt back to your pussy, lightly taking your clit between his teeth while his tongue swirled on it. It was enough to push you over the edge, and you screamed out as a powerful orgasm ripped through you. Bucky didn’t let go though, doing it over and over again even as your pussy was convulsing around his fingers, until you came again with a frightening intensity.

Reader’s POV

You’d almost passed out, unaware of your surroundings, unaware that Bucky was jerking himself off as you lay there, the sight of you bare and blissfully satisfied more than enough for him to chase his own release. You’d closed your eyes, ready for a much-needed sleep, when you dimly registered his loud moan and a warm spurt on your abdomen. You drifted to your dreams with him whispering in your ears, of how much he loves you, of how he’ll never let you go, of how he’ll bring the world to your feet, if you let him.

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

Your eyes fluttered open to harsh sunlight seeping from the window. You tried to keep them closed, to stay in that heavenly state for a little bit more before the reality comes crashing in. but when you finally couldn’t, your heart started palpitating with realization.

You were naked, nestled comfortably in Bucky’s arm, who naked as well, gloriously so. Last night came rushing back to you, of how he make you cum so many times on his face and fingers, how he came so filthily on you then. How he woke you up in the middle of the night just to kiss you again, make promises with his tongue and fingers.

Fuck ! you were screwed. The only way your brain could function normally right now was if you put some distance between the two of you.

You tried to pry yourself from his arm, hot and heavy over your waist, his warm breath coming down the back of your neck. This is the thing that you have craved the most all these years, the peaceful home in his arms, the comfort of knowing that there’s a place in this world where you can be soft and fragile.

But can you, really?

Wasn’t all the pain and heartache you’ve suffered because you were weak, vulnerable, breakable, for him?

There no fucking way you’ll allow that to happen, not when the life you have sleeplessly worked towards is finally within your reach, you will not squander it over this man, not again, not when he didn’t care about the first time around.

With some difficulty you’re able to get out of his hold, only for him to whine adorably in his sleep. Quickly you pull down his discarded black T-shirt over your head. Since the both of you were in your room, you had to be super quiet about getting your bag, which had a few of your necessities, most importantly your laptop. You crept in the washroom and the adjoining closet, collected your toiletries and clothes as quietly as you could and stuffed them in there. You’d care about orderliness later.

But right when you thought you could tiptoe you way out of this mess, He is awake, sitting against the headrest, the pout on his sleep mussed face betraying his displeasure.

“You sneaking out on me Doll?” His husky morning voice melting your inside, before you tamp it down.

“I have to….leave. Something came up” You lie through your teeth, too flustered to even make it convincing enough.

“I wonder what exactly could be so urgent that required you to leave the bed without a word, and pack your bag, all in a span of five minutes?” His eyebrow arched, guilt streaming your mind. You’d definitely be hurt if it was him doing the same, but how could you stay? In the same room, the same bed with the same man who’d once ruined you. Sure, the past few days were beautiful, your heart alive with hope.

But the fear of him crushing it was too overwhelming. Overwhelming enough for you to let your mask out stoicism slip, baring your terrified self to him.

“I can’t do this Bucky” you said quietly, your voice breaking as you were at the edge of tears.

Within a second, he was there, holding you as you broke down, finally letting your years of supressed angst and heartbreak pour out in front of your culprit. It was cathartic, painful, relieving and sickening.

He held you through it, as you cried, as you hit him on his chest multiple times. When the sobs stops quaking your body, you finally turned to see his tears, his eyes and nose reddened, his face scrunched in pain.

“Let me make it better, Baby.” He pleaded. “Give me one chance and I will make it better my sweet girl. Let it happen.”

Your wounded heart whimpered, deep down knowing that his was the only salve that will soothe it. the words “Yes, I will” were sitting on the tip of your tongue, but years of hurt and insecurity made you sceptical. What happens when you give in to him? What happens when his discards you again? when your relationship has lost its novelty?

“Loving you was difficult Bucky. The secrets we kept, the lies we told, it was super challenging. But learning to unlove you? that has to be the toughest damn thing I’ve ever had to do. I have been trying to do just that for the past four years. And I’ve still not succeeded. Don’t make it more difficult. Please Bucky.” A few more sobs whacked you as you tried to get away from, death grip on your bag as you slowly turned towards the door.

“We can forget that this ever happened. I’ll go to San Francisco; I’ll handle Steve too. You can go on with your life and I will go with mine.” You repeated the same words he had told you all those years ago. You cursed your voice for quivering, as you prepared yourself to leave him, once again.

Bucky stood up straight, rubbing the tears from his face. His voice had recovered its timbre as he spoke, “You wanna go Doll? Fine. Go. You can go to San Francisco, to London, Fuck it baby, you can go to the fucking arctic. Go wherever, but there ain’t no way I’m forgetting this. Us. And I sure as hell won’t let you forget. Because I’ll follow you, all ‘round the Earth if that’s what it takes to earn you again.” He took a step towards you, his eyes burning with passion and determination. “I’ll leave all of this, everything, I’ll leave my name if I have to, but I’m not backing off, not when I know that you crave this as much as I do.”

“If you don’t have the courage to take the leap, that’s okay baby. Cause I will dive in, just for you.”

“Why?” Its all you could muster up.

“Because a life without you my love, is not a life worth living.”

Taglist: @kandis-mom @queerqueenlynn @mayusenpai666 @nothingbettertosay81 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @loustan90 @zannemes @cjand10 @stuffyownswrld @sebastiansstanswhore

@superduckmilkshake @hisredheadedgoddess28 @nothingbettertosay81 @meheki

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #steve and bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barns #bucky fluff #fanfic #avengers fandom

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shanks-the-wino · 7 months ago

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Shanks x CisFem Reader

Sake8zero is offline.

He hadn't been online since he foolishly suggested meeting you a few days ago. Now he sat at his desk phone in hand debating over deleting the app all together.

He'd just have to find happiness the old fashion way. What even compelled him to try speaking to someone ten years his junior? He did miss your snarky come backs and just general conversation. There was a strange lonely feeling akin to what followed his divorce. Nothing that deep or heart shattering of course, but the two of you had built a routine. There were certain times of day when you spoke as if you were on a schedule. Now he didn't know what to do with himself. He ran his hand through his crimson tresses and sighed dropping the phone onto the desktop. A light tap on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"It's almost time to go. Yasopp is bringing the car around." The deep voice of his VP resonated off the walls as he pushed the door open.

"Thanks Benn." The redhead frowned.

"Still upset about your little girlfriend?" Benn crossed his arms.

Shanks rolled his eyes, "You are well aware that she wasn't my girlfriend. I did fuck up pretty bad though."

"You didn't even let her respond. How do you know?"

"You have a point." Shanks stood slipping his phone into his pocket.

"You'll have time to play around later. The resort is thirty minutes away." Benn turned for the door, "Did you at least remember to pack an overnight bag?"

"Right here." Shanks pulled a small leather bag from the bottom drawer of his desk, "Did they get the sample bottles loaded?"

"Yes, you wanted the '96 and '98 correct?" Benn glanced at his boss for confirmation.

"Our best years!" The redhead chimed.

The two men made their way out of the small office building to the black town car that was idling in the circle drive.

They were headed for a resort located on the outskirts of the city to hopefully sign a contract for resort guests to get a discounted stay if they booked a package that included a tour of Shanks' vineyard. The resort was owned and run by Edward Newgate and his adopted sons. Shanks had known the old man for a long time and though he'd strained the relationship a bit by trying to recruit his second eldest son, they managed to get along fairly well.

Newgate arranged a dinner meeting and rooms for Shanks, Benn and Yasopp to stay for the night.

They were greeted by the two eldest sons when they arrived at the sprawling resort.

"Marco, Thatch! So good to see you." Shanks called stepping out of the car.

"It's been a while yoi." Marco commented, "Business going well?"

"It's getting closer to our busy season." Benn replied shaking Thatch's hand.

_______________

You clocked in and crossed the empty conference room connected to the hallway that lead the resort's lobby. Nami sat behind the counter flipping channels on the enormous flat screen TV.

"Quiet night?" You asked rounding the corner.

"Just a few VIP's the old man is entertaining." She replied monotonously.

"Great." You tossed your purse in the back office and plugged your phone into the computer at the front desk.

"Still nothing from the online guy?" She quirked a brow.

"Nope." You shrugged.

"He's probably beating himself up about it."

"He didn't even wait for me to answer." You took the remote from her flipping to the travel channel.

"Mind if I head out early?" She asked already pulling her bag from the cabinet.

"Yeah sure. Are these guys rowdy? I don't want to have to call the cops." You sighed.

"Well they've been drinking for a while in the side conference room. It's some guy that owns a vineyard, that's what Marco said, seems he's a friend of the family as well though." She explained walking out the way you'd just come.

"Alright. Have a good night." You waved her off and settled in behind the desk.

Sometime after 1AM the lobby door swung open startling you.

"Is there coffee in here?" A soft baritone bounced off the walls in the quiet room as you stood to greet the stranger.

The handsome redhead fumbled briefly with his phone and sighed massaging the scruff on his chin. He didn't look old enough to be friends with the old man much less own a vineyard.

Must be an assistant or something.

"The coffee bar is to your right. Please help yourself." You smiled as his onyx eyes trailed up from his phone widening a bit.

"T-thank you." He stammered staring at you.

You shifted a bit under his gaze unsure of what cause the change in demeanor.

"No problem. Let me know if you need anything."

Crap crap crap.

Of course he'd fuck up any chance he had with you and then, by complete chance come face to face with you while trying to send you a message.

Maybe it wasn't you. Maybe it was a girl that looked like you. Profile pictures are different from real life if you factor in angles and filters.

*Ping*

Your phone hadn't made that particular notification in a few days. You picked it up while the redhead made his way to the coffee bar.

Sake8zero: How's the night shift?

He peeked at the small smile that crept over your lips before it faded into a pout. Your brows knit as if you were just now remembering you were mad at him.

Pyt07: Don't 'how's the night shift me'

#online #shanks #red hair shanks #shanks x reader #one piece #slow burn #dating app au #x reader #lyndsyh24 #18+ mdni #mdni

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winters8child · 5 months ago

Text

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 44

The dim, flickering lights of the hospital garage cast long shadows as I stood by the bike, nervously tapping my foot. The silence was oppressive, every echoing sound sending a jolt of fear through me, as if someone might step out of the darkness and pull the trigger. Steve should have already retrieved the flash drive Fury had given him and returned by now.

My hand instinctively flew to my handgun when I heard footsteps approaching. The tension broke slightly when I saw Natasha, her gum-chewing form nonchalant, with Steve following close behind. "Hey," she said, blowing a bubble and scrutinizing the bike. "I think we'll take my car," she added, her tone casual yet decisive. Steve, his face etched with tension, motioned for me to follow.

I slid into the front seat next to Natasha, the leather creaking under my weight, while Steve settled into the back. The car's engine rumbled to life, a comforting yet foreboding sound in the enclosed space.

"Where are we going?" I asked, glancing back at Steve. "Got the drive?"

He nodded, his expression grim. "We know who killed Fury and has been haunting you for the past few weeks. They call him the Winter Soldier. He's responsible for over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years. Nobody knows his true identity. He's practically a ghost," Steve explained, his voice heavy with the gravity of the situation.

A shiver ran through me. I knew he was dangerous, but this was something else entirely. I couldn't shake the memory of his eyes, the way they seemed to hold fear. "But what does he want from me? He says he knows me... but that he’s not supposed to know me," I said, feeling more confused than ever.

"We're here," Natasha announced, blowing another bubble with her gum. Steve started to get out, but she stopped him. "You stay here. The girls are going shopping," she said, motioning for him to hand over the flash drive.

He looked between us, hesitating, before reluctantly dropping the drive into her hand. Natasha swiftly grabbed a hat from the trunk and handed it to me, then deftly pulled the hood of her sweater over her head. With purposeful strides, we entered the mall, greeted by a cacophony of bustling shoppers darting to and fro with their bags.

"The first rule of going on the run is don't run, walk," Natasha whispered urgently, her eyes darting through the crowd, searching for any sign of Rumlow and his men. It suddenly struck me—I was now a fugitive, relentlessly pursued by Pierce and his corrupt Taskforce. And to compound the danger, a highly skilled assassin believed he knew me intimately, having meticulously monitored me for weeks; my apartment, unwittingly bugged by Fury the entire time. The weight of it all was suffocating. Gone were the days when the Nazis were our sole adversaries.

Natasha snapped me out of my reverie, tugging at my hand as she led me into a store selling computers. A cluster of people surrounded screens adorned with half-eaten apple logos, for some inexplicable reason. With practiced efficiency, Natasha swiftly plugged in the drive into one of the computers, her fingers deftly clicking away. I nervously scanned the store, half-expecting Rumlow to appear around the corner any moment.

"As soon as we boot up, S.H.I.E.L.D will pinpoint our location," she explained, her gaze fixed on the screen. I felt sweat bead on places I didn't know could sweat. "How much time do we have?" I asked, wiping my brow.

"About eight minutes," she replied. According to her, Fury had been right about the ship and someone was trying to conceal something.

"This drive is protected by some sort of A.I. It keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands," she continued. "Can you do something about it?" I asked, my fingers nervously tapping on the counter. Natasha looked frustrated. "The person who developed this is just a bit smarter than me... slightly."

She was in the midst of trying to trace the origin of the file when an employee approached us unexpectedly. Natasha swiftly covered the screen with her body and casually reached for my arm. "Oh, no, my fiancé here was just helping me plan our honeymoon," she said with an exaggerated grin. I felt my face flush with embarrassment, my eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

The employee glanced at both of us with a smirk. "Where are you beauties thinking about going?" he asked, peering at the map on the computer screen Natasha had open.

I turned to glance at the map and blurted out, "New Jersey," which seemed to surprise him. "Oh," he replied, taken aback. He didn't seem convinced and stared at me for a moment. "So, you like fishing?" he asked hesitantly. I was taken aback, unsure why he was bringing up fishing.

"Excuse me?" I replied, frowning in confusion. He pointed at my hat, which I had donned as a disguise. "Bass Pro Shop, I have the same hat," he explained.

"Oh, my hat! Yeah, I love fishing," I stammered, hoping he wouldn't delve further into the topic.

"What's your favorite spot?" he asked eagerly, clearly enthusiastic about fishing. "Uh, the ocean?" I stuttered, glancing over my shoulder to check on Natasha's progress.

Disappointed that we wouldn't be bonding over fishing, he smiled awkwardly and said, "If you guys need anything, I'm Aaron," before walking away.

I let out a heavy sigh, allowing my shoulders to slump. "How much time do we have left?" I asked, turning to Natasha.

"Okay, got it. Unless you want to stick around and chat about fish?" she quipped.

I pulled out the drive. "I'd much rather go on a honeymoon to Jersey with you."

She broke into a smile and replied, "Just tell me when."

We dashed out of the store, our eyes darting around as we scanned our surroundings. They were everywhere, earpieces crackling with communication as they searched for us. We hastened our steps as one of them approached directly towards us. "Just play along," Natasha whispered urgently, slipping her arm around mine and pulling our heads close. Suppressing nervous laughter, we giggled as we casually strolled past the unsuspecting agent.

Descending on the packed escalator, surrounded by a sea of bustling shoppers, it was difficult to spot all of Rumlow's men. Natasha's eyes widened as she spotted one on the opposite side. Suddenly, she turned to me with a startling question. "Ever kissed a girl before?"

Blushing deeply, I shook my head in surprise. Before I could comprehend her intent, she seized my face and pressed her lips against mine. I stood frozen, heart pounding, until she abruptly released me and turned away, continuing our escape without missing a beat.

She smiled at my bright red face. "I hope that wasn't too uncomfortable," she said. I shook my head. "No, it's just... women didn't do that in the '40s, at least not in public."

She chuckled as we stepped onto the elevator leading to the garage. "Yeah, they were just roommates back then."

Next Chapter

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #the avengers #fanfiction

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breezybangtanbebe · 6 months ago

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The Unseen: Hyungwon & Hyunwoo (Killas teaser)

A/N: Soooooo...Killas is taking some time to come together lol i have like fiddyleven ongoing projects (fanfics and originals) so yea. Its a labor of love. But I wanted to share a little something thats more than likely a deleted scene from the book that has potential to become its own thing🌚 meaning theres more than one part and this is just the first one🌚 anywho.

Tags: Contracted killer HyungwonxSexy, Two-timingOC( featuring Hyunwoo) all with similar occupations. John Wick vibes with flashbacks of steamy smut, raw sex, oral sex, high tension and some flirty banter❤️

4.8k words

"Good Evening Sir...Welcome to The Continental."

Emerson's posh and cheery disposition was never something Hyungwon would tire of. He couldn't say as much for the setting he'd stepped into since arriving.

Droplets of the sky cascade over the smooth leather of his coat as he walked with the grace of a Vogue model, his expression sharp and focused as he closed the distance between the entrance and the concierge desk.

"Emerson. Always a pleasure.." he greets the older gentleman informally as he crossed the glazed marble flooring, shaking the rain from his dripping hair. Its not a matter to the old confidante though, merely responding to the younger with a polite smile.

"Mr. Chae...its been years it seams. Are you well these days?" He asks and Hyungwon smirks. Mainly at the irony of the question.

When was he ever well?

"Oh you know. Same old. Id like a room please.."

"Very good sir. And how long will you be staying with us?" He goes on to ask and Hyungwon shakes his head as he shrugged the strap of his bag from his shoulder.

"Just for tonight. Im only passing through."

"Oh? You wont be attending the Academy reunion later on this evening then?" Emerson lifts his brows expectedly, never taking his eyes off the computer and Hyungwon chuckles at the idea.

The annual Brighton Academy reunion was something he always avoided, deeming it would be an evening he'd much rather spend fighting tooth and nail with some thug standing between him and access to some place he didn't belong, or staking out across the street from a residence for days , living off of stale water and protein bars to gather intel on a target.

Hell he felt he got enough of a reunion when he was assembled with 5 of his former classmates to handle the devil's busywork for a fee time and time again outside of his solo endeavors. That was just about as much reuniting he could tolerate.

No. A night of smoozing amongst people he'd forgotten shortly after the graduation ceremony was the last thing on his mind.

Besides, he had plans of his own tonight.

"I think I'll pass. Group activities are only my thing when a check is involved. Otherwise i prefer to avoid any social engagement if at all possible." He huffs as he lifted his bag to be checked routinely. Emerson's lips curl up in amusement as he turned the duffle to unzip it for a quick thumb through.

"Understood, sir. I assume youre well aware of hotel policy.." he begins and Hyungwon nods as he is already unholstering every firearm and blade he had on his person. The concierge waits calmly while an arsenal of weapons pile on the marble countertop one by one.

The two Glock 26's on either hip.

The smaller Ruger slotted behind his back.

The array of daggers and switch blades he had hidden only God knows where underneath that inconspicuous trench.

Silence falls over the grand foyer as Emerson waits patiently for Hyungwon to finish surrendering his weapons before gathering them delicately to be stowed in a designated locker.

He resumes his place in front of a computer and begins typing. As Emerson set out on getting him sorted in an available suite, Hyungwon takes a moment to observe the grand interior and occupancy of the infamous Continental.

Suited men in expensive dress shoes stepped briskly over the shining quarts floors, some of them chatting amongst each other as they either entered the hotel or exit into the rain. Others were accompanied by women adorned in rare furs and dripping in diamonds, their expressions as empty and inviting as the gothic ceilings several meters above their heads.

In the distance, a band was assembling on the club's stage, tuning instruments and preparing for another evening of entertaining while an array of round tables were set with crisp white table cloths and gold plaited cutlery.

To anyone else, the high end hotel appeared as just that. A place only the elite could afford to enter on rooms running nearly £800 a night at the cheapest rate.

No one would think to suspect it serving as a neutral space of communion amongst the world's most notorious spies and killers for hire.

With a few more taps and a swift reach for something out of Hyungwon's sight, Emerson clears his throat to summon the young man's attention.

"Much obliged Mr.Chae. Here is your key card and your valet ticket sir. Do enjoy your stay." He bows his head slightly as he offered the aforementioned items as well as his bag to Hyungwon, who takes them gladly with a returned bow.

"Thank you."

Amber sways and ripples with the spin of his glass. The malt's deep and slightly effervescent scent dancing on the air as it did on Hyungwon's tongue with every savoring sip.

He adjusts his lean in the chair, running his tongue along his bottom row of teeth as he glances at his watch.

She was late.

Or perhaps he was just impatient.

Meeting with her tonight had been the only thing on his mind since he opened his eyes that morning and every second he wasn't in her presence, his mind swam.

The local bar he'd selected was tucked away in a part of the city they once shared. Memories of seeing her here several times cloud his vision and the haze of reminiscing colors the scene in warm sepia and scents it with cognac.

Her favorite.

Some time ago...

"Favorite color?"

The conviction in Hyungwon's voice made it known that his question wasnt thoughtless, despite it being so cliche it was laughable.

"My favorite color? Seriously?" she giggles as the tip of her finger coasted the rim of her cocktail and Hyungwon's challenging gaze never wavers from hers.

Well, they do drop from her eyes to catch the way her tongue glosses her lips before returning with a lifted brow.

"Of course." he assures her cooly. His date just stares back at him for a moment, reading the depth of the galaxy in his eyes.

"Of all the things you could ask me though? Arent we too old for that?" she tilts her head.

"Too old for a favorite color?" Hyungwon pouts softly and she shakes her head.

"Too old for something like that to matter..." she mused. Now Hyungwon was intrigued.

"Is it a secret?"

Secrets.

The irony isnt lost on her at all considering what they were to eachother versus what they were to the world.

"Of course not...but you know me..better and more than most can say. Why does knowing my favorite color matter?" She challenges, earning a one shouldered shrug from the man sitting across from her.

"Just does. So just tell me." Hyungwon tosses back with just as much defiance.

She smiles...

"Guess."

The word barely provokes her lips to move but Hyungwon's gaze fall to them anyway, mimicking her coy smile in a way only he could.

He narrows his eyes and tucks his lips before leaning back in his seat, tugging casually at the collar of his shirt as he examines her with scrutiny for a moment. It's long enough to make a nervous lump form in her throat that she conceals with another sip from her drink.

Between the sheets.

White rum, Hennessy, and triple sec. Spritzed and zested with lemon.

The perfect balance of sweet and sour.

Sophisticated and audacious.

Sexy.

Watching her plush and rose tinted lips kiss the rim of her glass made Hyungwon wonder if she tasted just as sweet on his tongue as her beverage of choice.

Hyungwon glances down at her neck, following the line of the single thin gold chain carresing the dip of her collar bones, falling into curve of her cleavage to the plunging neckline of her dark plum blouse.

Peaks of lace frames her cleavage, her skin almost shimmering like satin under the low lighting, casting a shadow between her breasts that Hyungwon yearned to dive into.

He sensed a warmth there, lower beneath the expensive threads and the bend of her hips, a place he knew he'd soon be.

A place he knew she wanted him to be just as much.

Without a word, a look of revelation flashes in his eyes as he looked back up to her expectant face.

"Red." he says after subjecting her to his intangible torture for long enough, lifting his highball to his lips with a cocky glint in his eyes.

She stills, blinking slowly and Hyungwon knew immediately that he had her.

"Interesting guess..." she muses nonchalantly.

Her eyes shift over Hyungwon's relaxed lean in his seat, pausing to watch his Adam's apple lift as he tilted his head.

"Im right arent I?" He smiles sexily and its so disarming that the woman across from him forgets to breathe.

She huffs out a half felt chuckle to cover her body's reaction to Hyungwon's effortless charm.

"I'll tell you after you tell me why you chose that color. And please don't say it's because I complemented your shirt.." She decides to say, leaning in to rest her forearms on the table, her pointed stiletto nails tapping her skin rhythmically.

It wouldn't be gentleman-like for him to admit, but he wanted nothing more than to feel those claws digging lines over his back before the night was up.

Good thing he never claimed to be one in the first place.

"Of course not. Its your aura. My shirt's merely a coincidence."

"My aura..." she smirks and Hyungwon simply nods.

"Mmhm...You exude confidence from everything you do, from the way you enter a room...down to the way you order your drink." He responds casually as he reached for his own, gesturing his glass towards her in silent cheers before taking a quick sip.

She remains invested as he swallowed and Hyungwon sets the glass back down.

"I can tell youre a woman who always knows what she wants and exactly how to obtain it. I can tell you like control, which is why you always prefer to sit at the back of the bar, putting everything in your vantage point. Youre alert and very self aware. Youre assertve. Fearless. Bold. Partiality to extremes, passion and danger..."

"Danger? You think Im dangerous?" She speaks for the first time in minutes,lifting her brow with deep interest. Hyungwon nods slowly.

"Most women are..." he shrugs that shoulder again and its a gesture that reminds her eye to marvel in the broadness of them. Especially in that tailored Paul Smith dress shirt.

Why hadnt she noticed them before?

"Go on." She tips her chin after resuming her attention to his face, the real reason she hadnt noticed the rest of him.

Hyungwon smiles.

"Well....apart from what I picked up on via first impressions, the bezel of your watch is red. Matching the ruby stone on your ring. Which I assume is your birthstone meaning you were born in July. A warm month. Warmth. Red...you get my gist."

With another shrug of indifference, Hyungwon takes another sip from his whiskey. This time he savors the burn as it warmed his tongue. He awaits her response as he enjoys his drink but only soft sound of Sade crooning in the background fills the silence settling between them.

If you were mine....

Her expression idles between bewildered and impressed but only for a moment. It then resumes its usual demureness, a skill achieved when existing in world donning many faces.

As she reached for her glass, her smirk betrayed her as Hyungwon knew it would.

He had her.

"Hmm.." is all she says, picking it up.

Hyungwon's satisfied chuckle warmed his glass as he joined her in a shared sip.

Their eyes never leaving each other as they swallowed.

Present day...

Rain sizzled over the concrete, the summer nights steam hazing the night view through the windows. Its thick humid scent mixes with the essence of cognac and leather in the pub.

It was one of the few places in Hyungwon could go to unwind after countless hours of wearing his mask.

His day job was taxing.

But as lately, his nights were even worse.

As if he were attuned to her, Hyungwon's eyes shift from the bottom of his glass to the chiming front door as it opened slowly.

And there she was.

Legs that led to heaven and hips that sent men straight to hell, Lilith entered the bar with her black cashmere coat over her shoulders and her umbrella in hand.

She shakes it before closing it to stow in a designated basin near the door.

Her curves are accentuated by her blood red dress that leaves little to the imagination.

Hyungwon's eyes follows the shine of her smooth legs down to her heels, fond memories of those ankles over his shoulders flash over his disctracted gaze.

He shifts in his seat as he dispelled the thought, clearing his throat and glancing up just as Lilith lifts her head.

Her mane of mahogany spirals toss back from her face, the flecks of honey in her coal lined eyes pinning Hyungwon from the entrance.

Her lips perk up at one corner in a fond smile, but Hyungwon keeps his expression neutral despite his heart thudding pathetically in his chest, lifting his glass to his lips for an encouraging swig.

"Hey baby.." she purrs as if she she meant it and Hyungwon has to stifle his chuckle of disdain before rising from his seat.

"Hey.." he says lowly, his height almost doubling as he towers over her by several inches. She smiles as if nothing were amiss as she approached him for a breif embrace that he doesn't reject.

He couldn't resist a chance to touch her, even if his feelings had taken a complicated turn.

Her body just felt too good against his.

Out of habit, Hyungwon's hands snaked around her waist and her perfume encompassed him in an amalgam of emotions.

They flood him as he recalls smelling her in places she'd been the most.

Places he'd felt her the most.

His car.

His sheets.

His clothes.

Under his skin, as if it were possible..

Lilith had a way of layering her body oils and butters beneath a particular perfume that created a signature scent.

One he'd recognize anywhere.

Per their normal greeting, Lilith tips her head back in preparation to peck Hyungwon's lips as they always did.

Instead, he pressed his plushy pout to her temple and lingers there for a moment before pulling back.

The large hands at her waist were now pushing her coat back from her shoulders and Lilith assists by shrugging it free from her body. Hyungwon takes it to drape it over the back of the chair nearest to her.

He then pulls it out for her.

"Sit.." he states softly, saying nothing more and his expression gives nothing away as he waits for her to comply. A frown pulls at Lilith's ruby lips at Hyungwon's icyness but she doesnt hesitate to ease down into the proffered chair beside her.

Hyungwon then calmly steps back to his side of the table and joins her to sit, picking up his glass to swirl its contents casually.

Lilith's brow pinches at the tension rolling off of Hyungwon's shoulders, scooting into her chair comfortably before resting her forarms on the table.

"So..I hear your alma mater is in town tonight for some sort of reunion. I'm surprised you hadn't made plans to meet up with the boys tonight.."

"Im just gonna cut straight to it.."Hyungwon interupts her, the blanching of her expression damn near comical at his curtness.

"Um......ok..."she stammers, leaning away from the table slightly.

Hyungwon's eyes darken as they drop to the watch adorning her thin wrist. Similar to the one she'd worn the night they met but different. More expensive.

New.

The red bezel winks back at him ironically before he regards her soft expectant features.

"I know everything." He adds ominously with a hardened expression and cold tone. The warmth in Lillith's face drains a shade but she doesnt show any traces of guilt as her brows creased deeper in confusion.

"You know..what ,exactly?" She asks.

What did he know?

More than he wished.

Less than he hoped.

Hyungwon knew the woman he was dangerously in love with was a stone-faced liar.

Among other things.

"You really wanna play dumb with me?" he goes on to ask and the hostility in his voice has his lover's lips curling up into an unexpected smile.

"Wonnie.." she begins and her chest touches the table as she leaned foward, extending her touch to grace Hyungwon's hand that laid flat over the polished wood.

"Don't.." he exhales tiredly, pulling his hand away to fall in his lap. This has Lilith's smile fading immediately.

"Im sorry...Did you not ask me to be here? You said you wanted to see me.."

Her tone and expression imply that her feelings were hurt by his rejection, but Hyungwon knew better than to believe it.

"Yeah. I wanted to see you tonight.....because I needed to see if you would look me in the eyes and lie the same way you've been lying to me this whole time."

Lilith's brows shoot up in surprise and an incredulous chuckle just sharply from her lungs. Hyungwon's brows crease as her posture changed from anxious to at ease, despite the atmosphere shift.

He frowns as he watched the guilt and confusion trade for what he could guess was amusement at his expense.

Could this woman have any more nerve?

"Did I say something funny?" he asks and Lilith only shakes her head with a sigh.

"No.Just laughing at the fact that I just traveled all the way downtown in the rain, in this dress.. without any panties underneath it.."

Hyungwon blinks at her unsubtle pause, pushing the thought of what she was hiding between her luscious thighs.

"...expecting a much warmer greeting from you..and a drink. At least..." she trails off all too casual.

Lilith reaches across the table comfortably for Hyungwon's drink and their fingers touch as she takes it from him. He surprisingly allows it, opting to keep his cool as she lifts it to her red-tinted lips with her eyes trained on him over the rim.

As she pulls away from the glass, her tongue darts out to lick over her stained top lip and the image of her lips at his throat flash through his mind.

Fuck this was impossible.

How could a woman as devious as she is so captivating with even just the curl of her tongue and bat of her eye?

The memory of it has him swelling with want beneath the table and for a moment he wonders if he should even be doing this.

Only for a moment though.

Leather creaks against his nails as they dug troughs into the seat of his car.

Hyungwon groans in ecstasy towards the sunroof, his heavy panting accumlating in the steam fogging his windows.

The backseat was surprisingly spacious once the front seats were pushed up, giving just enough room for him to sit with his long legs spread wide with her slotted between them.

"Oh..shit.." he exhales , cutting his bottom lip with his teeth as his fingers tangled in Lillith's silken curls. Her head bobs over him slowly, her velvety smooth lips and tongue shining with saliva as they worked magic over his shaft.

Night had barely fallen over the city, the buzz of office employees and other tenants echoeing through the concrete walls of the enclosed parking garage.

Hyungwon's blacked out Genesis is parked in the furthest and darkest corner on the top floor. The keys still dangled from the ignition up front by the time their bodies teleported to the back seat with the symphony of the city life instrumenting their tryst.

"You feel...so..fucking good....."

The words were as tender as his touch against the back of her head and he guided her just as gently to take him as deep as her throat would allow without her choking.

They knew they weren't alone in the parking garage despite the quiet surrounding them but neither of them cared. Something about the fact heightens the arousal that was sparked by the tension between them from the bar. Which was far too potent to resist any longer than they had to.

His most recent assignment put him in a place where Lilith was coming off a job of her own. The two never discussed work when they were together, nor did they care to know the causes of certain bruises or scrapes marring each other's skin. They only had an unspoken agreement, to leave everything, clothes and weapons included, at the door.

After fighting off the inevitable gag caused by Hyungwon's length, Lilith's eyes lift to steal a look of his gorgeously pleasured expression. She pulls off of him with a low gasp, and a devilish smirk curls at her smudged lips as she stroked his shellacked dick with her free hand.

The other was slotted between her legs, rubbing soothingly at her dripping folds.

Hyungwon's brow cinched as the warmth of her skilled hand brought him closer to the precipice of pleasure. His jaw goes slack and his lust drunk eyes rolled back as the sizzling fuse crept closer and closer to its source.

"Im..Im gonna.." he shudders, his hand closing into a fist over Lilith's scalp as she continues to take him deep in her throat.

Before he could stop her, Hyungwon erupted into her mouth with a deep sigh of relief and frustration at not being able to hold on a minute longer. Lilith swallowed him down greedily, a weak but sinister chuckle vibrating her throat as she did.

"Fuckfuckfuck..ah..stop.." he groans unabashedly, his hips lifting his from the seat as his overstimulation takes hold. Lilith giggles at his shameless squirming but shows him mercy by pulling off of his throbbing member and sensitive tip with a 'pop' of her lips.

Coming up from her knees for the first time in the few minutes it took to get Hyungwon off, she smiled as she mounted him, opening her thighs to accommodate his wide legged spread.

Hyungwon's neck and the slice of his chest that was visible between loosened buttons glistened under a sheen of sweat that smelled divine. The feminine and inner feline urge to rub it all over herself compels Lilith to finish unbuttoning the black silk expertky with one hand.

She used her other to reach down between their bodies to stroke Hyungwon's unwavering erection slowly, using the slickness of her own arousal that lingered on her fingers.

"Think you were loud enough?" she teased him just above a raspy whisper and Hyungwon grunted as her grip rolled over his tip.

"Think your pussy's wet enough?" he boomeranged her sarcasm, earning a stiff squeeze at the base of his dick. Hyungwon hissed at the pressure, his eyes fluttering pitifully.

"Careful...you just might find out." Lilith leans in to whisper in his ear, taking a lobe between her teeth sensually.

She pulls back just enough for them to share a kiss that's soaked by their tongues and remnants of Hyungwons cum still on Lilith's lips.

"Mmm..." he moans, savoring the flavor of himself combined with her kiss and whimpering at the way it made his weeping tip twitch in her grasp.

"You liked that?" Lilith murmured and Hyungwon's groan in response has her chuckling darkly. Hyungwon nods wordlessly, his jaw dropping and his head tilting to deepen their kiss. He licks at her mouth desperately while she pushed his silk shirt completely open, exposing his sculpted chest and taut abdomen.

Hyungwon didn't have the mind nor the patience to attempt to get Lilith naked. With how her dress was already bunched and gathering at the curve of her hips, there wasn't much standing between him and where he needed to be.

His wet kisses trailed hot and heavy from her lips to the hills of her cleavage, his greedy hands squeezing her ass to guide her closer.

"Stay with me..." he says suddenly in a hurried breath, lifting his hooded gaze to find hers in the darkness.

Lilith hovers over her him motionless, blinking with resistance at his unexpected proposal. Before she could deny him, as if she could, Hyungwon continued.

"Please...I need you tonight. I need you every night. I want to bury myself inside of you until you paint the walls with my name. I want you in my bed, naked and sore when I wake up. Then I want to fuck you again so that you'll think of me with every step you take. Until we meet again.."

Had he always been this poetic? The rawness and passion of his intentions made tiny rivers of need drizzle down her inner thighs, surely coating his thighs.

She wanted that too. More than she could put into words. Realistically, everything about his proposition was dangerous. They weren't even supposed to be seen together, let alone sharing a room in the Continental.

Or a bed.

It complicated everything.

But nonetheless, her heart and her core called to Hyungwon like a lost lover, praying for solace and sanctuary.

Even if it were for one night.

"Hyun.." she begins, but lips as soft as satin punctate her sentence for her.

"Dont think, just say you will. And we can figure out the rest later.." Hyungwon says against her lips, running his hands over her wide straddling hips to squeeze her again. The motion causes the his shaft to nudge through her senstive folds, making them both sigh into each other's mouths at the warmth and friction.

She wanted to say no. (no she didnt.)

She needed to say no. (no the FUCK she didnt.)

But with a mumbled 'yes' and a sly smile, her response trailed over his jawline and down to his neck while Hyungeon hurriedly slipped his length inside of her.

As expected, the fondness of the memory exists for only a moment. Although his gaze lingered on her lips, recalling the things she accomplished over and over with them, there would now be a bitter aftertaste in his mind.

Images of them pressed against his throat douses his arrousal immediately.

"I know all about him, Lilith. So theres no point in lying now.." Hyungwon responds as Lilith helps herself to what remains of his whiskey.

He catches the corner of her mouth lifting into a smile as she drank but it vanished the moment she placed the glass back in the center of the table.

"Him?" She exhales the question, almost as if she were getting bored or mildly irritated at Hyungwon's pointless line of obtuse questions.

Typical.

She was rarely the type to hold herself accountable for anything, even when she knew she was dead wrong.

Hyungwon sniffs a chuckle as he steals a look around the empty bar. He needed a reason to look away from her anyway.

She was still just as beautiful when he wanted to hate her.

"Please don't keep playing dumb or innocent about this. Im not in the mood. I know everything, ok? And so does he. We've spoken."

Lilith's gaze drops to Hyungwon's mouth before it drags back up to his stare.

"Have you now?" She asks, the arch of her brow lifting ever so slightly.

"I have. And in our conversations, I've come to know more about you than I ever thought was possible. Things I wish I never had to hear."

He and Lilith weren't exclusive but she'd insisted that no one had her the way he did. Heart, mind and body.

But Hyungwon should have known better than to take the word of a spy.

A professional liar.

The two stare each other down intensely for what feels like minutes, frozen by distrust and indifference with a touch of sexual tension dense enough to coat the air.

Lilith is the first to yield, shifting in her chair but maintaining her disinterested expression. Feigning annoyance, she sighs loudly.

"Ok,So...what now? Did you call me here to break up with me or something? Want me to cry and say I'm sorry? What is it you expect from me?" She asks audaciously.

Before Hyungwon could respond, the chiming door pulled his attention from Lilith's challenging scowl to the door she'd walked through only minutes ago.

Except this time, donning a shirt and slacks the color of night, a regretfully familiar gentleman crosses over the threshold with his sharp brow hardening at the sight of the only woman he expected to see sitting across from his cohort.

Lilith's head turns curiously to see who had stolen Hyungwon's gaze from her so suddenly and just as she'd gone ghostly before, her eyes widen at the sight of Hyunwoo sauntering towards them.

Smirking devilishly in a way only he could...

"Lilith...."

To be continued...

#hyungwon fanfic #hyungwon smut #monsta x smut #monsta x fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #monsta x #changkyun #jooheon #wonho #shownu #hyungwon #kihyun #minhyuk #hyunwoo

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my-wayward-son · 2 years ago

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Trans truths #8

Five things that help you pass—and yes, these are going to be mega cliche, but I didn’t make the rules. People just auto assign you based on outward appearance.

Square neckline on your haircut— just ask your stylist to square off the back. They’ll know what you mean. That’s really the line that separates a pixie from a men’s style.

A wallet in your pocket—this is especially great if your jeans are just a little distressed around the wallet bulge on your back pocket.

Chunky shoes— and by this, I mean shoes that are larger/more visible than the cuffs of your pants. Don’t size up and stuff your toes; that’s just uncomfortable. Think about it this way: vans are wider/thicker soled than converse. The same can apply to any shoe style.

A computer bag— no purse, no clutch, no wallet wristlet… get a computer bag with a messenger style cross-body strap. Put whatever you want inside, but any bag that hits above your waist automatically looks femme from the view of passers-by.

A men’s watch—Smart watches are great, but a classic-style analog watch with a thick leather strap looks really snappy.

*bonus* for your all-day sipping beverages, carry a travel mug or water bottle, not a plastic cup with a straw. I don’t know why, but those to-go cups with their plastic lids and fun designs… just don’t go with the masc vibe.

#laur talks #trans issues #trans #ftm #passing #trans truths #trans tips

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rachellesedai · 1 year ago

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The Lasting Memory

Here is part two of my story for the @inklings-challenge 2023!

Team: Tolkien Genre: Secondary World Fantasy/Time Travel Themes: Burial/Visit the Sick Word Count: 5,621 [PART 1] | 4,467 [PART 2]

―

PART 2

Treasa mounted the steps to the grand pavilion. Its moonstone columns shimmered in the glow of the setting sun. Detailed glyphs in the lost language of the ancients covered the round pillars from top to bottom. Her eyes ran up the rows upon rows of carved symbols. They were said to be an explanation of how the stones worked, or perhaps computations showing the movements of the stars. Scholars had spent lifetimes arguing over the possible meanings of the glyphs and the ancients who had created them.

The Order had grown up around these scattered pavilions, studying them, learning their secrets, and eventually using them for their own purposes. What the ancients had intended them for no one knew for certain. Traveling back in time, if only as an observer, was useful to be sure. It seemed to Treasa, however, that there had to have been more to the mystical structures. Why were they the only remnants of a clearly advanced civilization? She couldn’t help wondering if the pavilions had taken the ancients to the far future or even to other worlds.

Treasa took a deep breath. Now was not the time to ponder such things. She was only putting off the inevitable. Clutching the moonstone medallion hanging around her neck, Treasa walked to the center of the structure. A cool breeze whispered through the columns. She patted the leather scrip at her side, ignoring the heat creeping up the back of her neck. No one was here to check how many crystals were in her bag. She wasn’t sure if she’d packed Timon’s extra crystals because she still doubted herself or because his threats had intimidated her more than she was willing to admit. Either way, it was time.

Carefully positioning herself, Treasa planted her feet within the crossing lines of the star mosaic at the very center of the pavilion. She cupped the amulet in both hands and gazed into its milky depths, building the picture she wanted in her mind’s eye. Her stomach lurched and everything wobbled as if the ground were falling out from under her. She tensed, reminding herself this was a normal part of traveling. Treasa took a slow breath and closed her eyes. Her fingers curled around the amulet and she focused on the image in her mind, the Battle of Kareth. Silent winds buffeted her. She was at the eye of a great storm, and then nothing. A moment of suspended silence stretched out around her before reality snapped back into place.

Treasa stumbled, her boots ankle deep in mud. Men swarmed around her, officers shouting orders, soldiers caring for horses and readying weapons. Her eyes scanned the men’s faces, searching for the First Guardian. She shook her head. General Valleth. He would be young here, blond hair instead of gray. Treasa trudged forward, glad to be wearing breeches and a woolen tunic covered with a serviceable half-cloak in the midnight blue of the Order. People flowed around her, rarely even glancing in her direction. She approached an officer taking reports from various regiment leaders and sending them hurrying off in different directions.

“Excuse me, Commander.” The man glanced up, squinting with that slightly confused look people always gave.

“Yes, scholar?” he said, looking back down at the papers in his hand.

“Could you direct me to General Valleth?”

He frowned, eyeing the crest that caught her cloak up on her right shoulder. With a sigh, he jerked his head toward a collection of tents near the southern end of the encampment. “Try the officers’ mess.”

“Thank you,” Treasa replied, even knowing he would soon forget the entire interaction. She turned and trudged along the muddy path. The way the past flowed around intruders such as herself still made Treasa uneasy. She was alien here and the whole world seemed to pull away, refusing to acknowledge her presence. It was better, the scholars said, that people forgot you the moment they looked away and that their eyes slid right past you unless you called attention to yourself.

As Treasa approached the crowded row of makeshift tables, her eyes were immediately drawn to Valleth. He should not have stood out, having discarded his uniform jacket with its golden braid and tassels. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and his neck cloth loosened like the other men at the table. His presence, however, was undeniable. His fellow officers at the table, passing soldiers, even the aides serving the food, hung on his every word, laughing as he came to the end of a humorous story.

Treasa smiled to herself. She remembered the tale. It was the first one he’d told her on a stormy night when the candles had guttered low and they had seemed to be the only two awake in the tower. She slipped in among the onlookers and listened carefully for any clue that would tell her how close to the battle she had arrived. Briefly, she was tempted to record this exact moment. Valleth was happy and confident, laughing with his friends and comrades. Most of these men would be dead in a few days’ time. The Battle of Kareth would be a victory snatched from the jaws of defeat. A turning point in Damaria’s history, without a doubt, but a victory won at a steep price, hundreds giving their lives to push out the foreign invaders once, and for all. She sighed. Timon would undoubtedly choose his father’s glorious victory over a moment with his men.

A courier sprinted up and handed the general a sealed letter. Valleth called for food and drink for the man while he scanned the contents of the missive. He straightened, his eyes snapping. “The Rethans have crossed the river at Drytos,” he said. The men fell silent, a few blanching at the news, but all looking confidently to their leader. “Ready the men,” Valleth said and the camp exploded into a frenzy of activity.

Treasa sighed. Tonight, then, would be the famous midnight ride to outflank the barbarians and drive them south, forcing them to fight with the cliffs at their back instead of on the open plains where their greater numbers would have the advantage. She slipped in among the scurrying soldiers and secured a mount. She rode until evening melted away and the sky became a vast black dome with stars scattered across it like spilled diamonds. Her view from the vantage point she and Sir Damerel had discussed was spectacular. She pulled the recording crystal from her pouch and prepared it with a few chanted words and the pressure of her thumb in the right spot. Then she waited.

Horsemen pounded into view as the first streaks of dawn colored the sky. One force harassed by the other, gaining ground inch by inch. The clash of weapons, the cries of the fallen, and the shouts of victory rode the wind, swirling around her. The moment Treasa’s eyes landed on General Valleth astride his silver gray horse, saber raised, she activated the crystal. It caught everything, Valleth’s victory, the stunned rejoicing of the survivors, and his grief over the fallen. It was beautiful and stirring in its way. But it seemed too simple and the young general with a stricken expression in his eyes was not the man she had come to know.

Sighing, Treasa reviewed the recording. It felt both too removed from the action of the moment and too intimate in the emotions it had captured. She doubted if even Timon would find the recording acceptable. Tucking it safely into her scrip, Treasa trudged over to a copse of trees around a muddy stream, well out of sight of any sharp-eyed soldiers. She chanted under her breath and stared into the medallion, willing herself to the second location on Lord Timon’s list.

―

Silent winds swirled and Treasa opened her eyes to a shadowed alcove. She waited a moment for her breathing to return to normal and peered out into the street. The position of the sun put the time around late morning. Venturing out, she heaved a sigh of relief to find herself on the familiar streets of the capital. There was no need to hunt for clues with the Order’s Central House so close. She slipped among the bustling populous, her feet almost tripping over themselves in her haste.

Treasa pulled the bell string at a nondescript gate tucked around the far end of the east tower of the Central House. A young cleric answered, her eyes widening at the sight of Treasa in her muddied boots and travel stained cloak. Treasa held up her moonstone medallion and the girl bobbed a courtesy. She hurriedly unlocked the gate and waved Treasa in with a furtive glance up and down the path.

“How may I serve you, scholar?” The cleric asked as soon as they had crossed the small courtyard and closed the wooden door behind them.

“Is the First Guardian’s installment ceremony soon?” Treasa asked.

“Yes. It is set for tomorrow evening.”

Treasa’s shoulders relaxed and she peeled off her cloak. “Good. I’ll need something appropriate to wear to the event and some food and drink in the meantime. And I’m not a scholar yet. Cleric will do.”

“Of course, cleric.” The girl smiled, diligently recording Treasa’s requests in a large leather bound book with the date neatly inscribed at the top of the page. “Would you check to see if I have listed everything you require.”

Treasa leaned over to examine the list, seeing that the girl had noted her size correctly, even adding a few details about her coloring for whoever ended up with the job of locating a last minute dress for the biggest event of the year. “Thank you. It looks perfect.”

“I am happy to serve,” the girl said, “The log is checked every half hour. All items requested will be put in the anteroom there.” She pointed to a door to their left. “The library is down the hall. The most current publications and public communications are on the table in the center.”

“Thank you,” Treasa said, “You have made my task much easier. I am sorry you will not remember my gratitude.”

The girl shrugged, a smile in her eyes. “It is part of serving in the Order.”

Treasa nodded in agreement. “Blessings on you, sister.”

“And you,” the girl responded, “Good luck on your endeavor.”

Treasa nodded and wandered down to the library. She confirmed the date on the latest public notices and settled down on a comfortable settee. Kicking off her boots, she pulled her knees up to her chest. Her stomach growled and she hoped the book would be checked soon so she could get something to eat.

Sighing, she pulled her braid around and began undoing it, her fingers pulling at the tangles. She was acutely aware of the extra crystals in her pouch. Soon she would have to decide whether to use them or not. Normally, she would record over her previous attempt or, if there was enough room, fill up the rest of the space on the crystal with this second event. She was expected to present one recording for the Lasting Memory, though how she went about recording and choosing was up to her.

―

Treasa stared into the mirror, not quite recognizing herself. The dress that had been delivered was precisely what she had expected. It was stylish enough to blend in, but not so stunning that it would attract undo attention. Even so, it was the nicest thing she had ever worn. The underdress was a silk the color of burnished gold with voluminous skirts that swished when she walked. Over that, was a robe of dark green chiffon trimmed with a tasteful amount of golden embroidery and fastened at the waist with a wide sash. She smoothed her hands over the dress and slipped them into the deep pockets, checking for the tenth time that the crystals were secure. She patted her hair, which hung loose around her shoulders in accordance with the fashion of the day. It felt strange not to have it up. At least the front was swept up in a gold comb that kept it out of her face. She sighed. It was time to go.

The town-coach she had arranged dropped her off at the entrance to the basilica and she joined the throng of attendees. The atmosphere was jubilant and the crowd laughed and chattered as they squeezed themselves into the lofty space, filling the anterooms and hallways to bursting. Navigating through the crowd was a surreal experience. No one paid any attention to her unless she bumped into them. In some ways, it made it easier to slip between the knots of exquisitely dressed dignitaries and solemn elders in their formal robes. However, no one stood aside for her either, and as remaining unremarkable was her goal, she found herself stuck more than once, hemmed in on all sides, unable to move.

Finally crossing the wide antechamber, Treasa showed her medallion to a guard at the foot of a staircase roped off with a thick golden chord. She was allowed in with a nod and a formal, “Blessings on you, scholar.”

She made her way up the curved stairs, holding her skirts to avoid tripping over them. At the top was a balcony, overlooking the sanctuary. She glanced down to where she had been standing among the clerics a few short weeks ago, or would be standing in several decades. She shook her head. Thinking about it too much brought on a persistent throbbing behind her eyes.

Eventually a hush fell over the crowd and Treasa began her recording as a choir of young voices swelled from a soft chanting to a chorus of multiple voices harmonizing and then diverging in a spectacular rendition of the anthem of the Knights Reverend. She held the crystal steady on the balcony railing to get the best view of the ceremony. As the chorus was joined by a symphony of instruments, a procession of elders and scholars came up the center aisle. They were followed by a color guard of high-ranking knights in full regalia. When the attendants had taken their places, the music swelled once again and everyone turned to watch Peatar Valleth III stride down the aisle. Head held high, his smile seemed to reach every corner of the basilica. He bowed to the High Elder and saluted his fellow knights before taking his place on the central dais.

Treasa recorded the entire ceremony, including the First Guardian’s speech that had everyone laughing and wiping away tears at different points. At the conclusion of the service, Treasa retraced her steps and slipped in among the crowds toasting the First Guardian’s installment. She could leave now. She had recorded more than enough grandiose formality. Timon would be thrilled. She winced at the thought.

Her feet dragged, and she came to a stop, the multitudes flowing around her like a stream parting around a small rock. This was not why the First Guardian had chosen her. His installment and the Battle of Kareth were so obvious. Odd were high most people would have chosen one of the two. He had entrusted her with this task.

She moved into the grand hall and spotted Valleth greeting dignitaries and carrying on a jovial conversation with those around him. As she approached, the group laughed at something in one of Valleth’s stories. Blinking, Treasa drew in a sharp breath. His stories. He was famous for them. There was always a point to them, whether to bring comfort, teach a lesson, or simply raise everyone’s spirits. A recording of the actual events of one of his stories would be the perfect Lasting Memory. It would be as if he was telling it again every time someone visited his memorial. Treasa almost gasped. She immediately knew which story. Her favorite. The one he had repeated so many times she knew it by heart.

Treasa hurried back to the Central House and changed out of her finery. She downed some bread and cheese that had been left on a tray in the library, and paced the room. Finding the exact moment in time from Valleth’s description of events would be tricky. Treasa bit her lip as she went over the details in her head, running through the timeline she had memorized of Valleth’s life and accomplishments. It was a narrow enough window. If Damerel was right about visualizing the scene being the crucial part of traveling, she might be able to pull this off. With a silent thanks to Keltris and her insistence she commit to memory even the smallest detail of Valleth’s daily life, Treasa chanted the words of traveling over her medallion and hoped for the best.

―

Treasa leaned against the high, stone wall that separated the university gardens from the city proper. The narrow street running along the back of the gardens was used by students and faculty alike as a short cut to the Central House. If she had traveled to the right day, Valleth would soon be leaving after a day of teaching at the military academies. The winter sun slowly sank behind the tall spires of the basilica, casting long, cold shadows.

Treasa pulled her cloak tight to ward off the chill, thankful she had taken the time to change out of her fancy dress. She looked up as the gate to the garden creaked. An older man walked out, a satchel of books slung over one shoulder. He turned, eyes sliding right past her, and Treasa smiled. It was Valleth. He still walked straight. His hair had only touches of gray, though his short beard was all salt and pepper. He wore a serviceable coat, military in cut, but without any of the trappings his rank merited. Treasa breathed a sigh of relief. So far, so good.

Treasa activated the recording crystal and followed Valleth as he walked down the street humming snatches of a tune. As Valleth rounded a corner, a boy with tousled brown hair and a dirty face stepped out into the road. Valleth came to an abrupt stop to keep from running him over. He chuckled as the boy’s eyes widened.

“Can I help you, young sir,” Valleth asked.

The boy regarded him with narrowed eyes as if considering his request. “Do you have any coppers?” he asked.

Valleth patted his pockets. Treasa tried not to smile. Valleth’s description of searching for and not finding a single coin was always comical.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Valleth said and the boy shrugged as if it was no more than he expected. “I do have something, though.” Opening his satchel, Valleth pulled out a wrapped honeycake. “I’m sorry. It isn’t much, but it’s from Rena’s bakery, so you know it’s good.”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “That’s perfect! Better than a fistful of coppers.” He grinned from ear to ear, accepting the treat. “Thank you, sir. It’s my sister, Erin’s nameday and she loves honeycakes!”

Valleth straightened. “Do you mean to say that you are going to give this cake to your sister?”

The boy nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir. She will be so happy. We hardly ever get sweets and Rena’s are the best.”

“I see,” Valleth said, his eyes softening, “Does your sister like books by any chance?”

“Mama taught us both to read,” the boy replied proudly, “Erin wants to be a scholar some day and I am going to be a knight of the Order.”

“That is a worthy ambition One that should be encouraged.” Valleth rummaged in his satchel. “I have a gift for your sister’s nameday that I think you will both enjoy.” He pulled out a slim leather bound volume. “It’s a bit worn,” he said, dusting off the book, “but only because it’s one of my favorites.” He held out the book and the boy’s mouth fell open.

He tucked the honeycake under one arm and wiped his hand on his shirt before taking the book. He stared at it, reading the title in halting accents, “The Tales of Damar.” He looked up at Valleth, eyes wide in awe. “You’re giving this to me? For Erin? Are you sure?”

“I am very sure,” Valleth said, smiling.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” The boy danced around in circles, hugging the book to his chest.

Valleth laughed. “Take care not to get it sticky, son.”

“I’ll be careful,” the boy said, “Thank you, sir. Blessings on you.” He turned and ran down the cross street. Valleth watched until he was out of sight a smile on his face.

Treasa held the crystal up, finishing the recording as the last rays of sunlight lit Valleth’s face. He always said he had felt more joy in that moment than he ever had before or since.

Treasa held the crystal tightly, blinking back tears, and watched Valleth continue on his way. She could almost hear his voice recounting the story and see the laughter in his eyes. This was how the man should be remembered. Not as a battle hardened warrior or a brilliant statesman, but as a man who brought joy into the world with simple acts of kindness. She pulled the other two crystals out of her bag. They shone from within with the pale violet light that showed they held a memory of the past. She had no doubt, if she returned with all three, Timon would find a way to force her hand.

Before she could change her mind, Treasa took the crystals from her previous trips and cast them onto the stone walkway. She inhaled sharply as they shattered, the soft light dying away to nothingness. She took a deep breath and carefully wrapped the remaining crystal and placed it in her scrip. It was time to go home.

Clasping the medallion to her heart, Treasa chanted the words to activate it, and thought of home. The winds pulled at her and she felt lifted off her feet for a moment before being dropped in a heap onto the polished floor of the grand pavilion. She blinked and Damerel was there, helping her up. He steadied her as she gasped for breath.

“Are you all right?” he asked, supporting her arm.

Treasa nodded. “Just a little winded.” She looked past Damerel and saw a veritable array of people clustered around the pavilion entrance all with various looks of concern and surprise on their faces. There were several blue-robed scholars and, most notably, the High Elder Reyes and Lord Timon Valleth himself. “What’s going on?” Treasa asked.

“You were gone a long time,” Damerel said, “Several days, in fact.”

“Days?” Treasa blinked. Recovery missions usually took hours, half a day at most. “But why is everyone here?”

Scholar Keltris stepped forward. “Lord Timon was insisting that someone else be sent to recover the First Guardian’s Lasting Memory.” She sniffed. “He tried to force the issue.”

“It was my right,” Timon growled, pushing forward. The crowd muttered, seemingly divided between those who supported Timon and those who had been trying to stop him.

Treasa’s knees felt weak, but she straightened, mustering a serene expression. “Well, I’m back now,” she said.

“Yes. And I believe we should speak in private.” Timon jerked his head and turned to walk away as if he fully expected her to trot after him.

Keltris’s eyebrows shot up and Damerel put his hand on his sword. Treasa gave her head a slight shake and then said in a loud voice, “That will not be necessary. I have completed my mission, and am ready to present the First Guardian’s Lasting Memory to the High Elder.” Scholar Keltris and Sir Damerel exchanged a look, but straightened and stood ready on either side of her.

Timon protested, but Elder Reyes held up his hand. “You forget yourself, Lord Timon. Let the girl complete her mission. It is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Timon nodded, but the hard look he shot Treasa made her knees quake again.

“Is everything all right?” Keltris whispered.

“It will be,” Treasa answered just as quietly.

“I will be glad to accept the memory you have recorded,” the High Elder said, “If only to end all this nonsense.”

Treasa went down on one knee and retrieved the crystal from her bag. She held it up for a moment for all to see, then presented it to the High Elder. “I give you the Lasting Memory of First Guardian Peatar Valleth III.”

―

Treasa leaned against the balcony railing and watched the fireworks that lit up the sky to celebrate Lord Timon’s installment as First Guardian. She sighed as Damerel joined her. “Do you think he is still angry with me?” she asked, twisting the end of her braid.

“First Guardian Timon does not seem like a man who forgives easily,” Damerel said, “but I do not see how he can hold it against you. Everyone loves the memory you chose. Hundreds of people have seen it already and they cannot stop talking about how perfect it is. Timon got what he wanted, in a sense. The people’s goodwill toward his father is passing down to him, for now at least.”

Treasa nodded, straightening as Damerel stepped closer.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you find that particular moment in time?” he asked, his voice low.

“It was one of his stories,” she said, “my favorite one. I think that’s why he chose me to find it.”

Damerel laughed softly. “Well, I certainly never would have chosen that particular memory.”

“Why not?” Treasa turned and looked up at him. “You said it was perfect and beautifully conveyed the essence of who the First Guardian was.”

“It does,” Damerel said, taking her hand.

Treasa blushed, but tightened her fingers around his. “Then why?”

“Because the boy in the Lasting Memory is me.”

Treasa shook her head, laughter shining in her eyes. “Do you think he knew? That you actually joined the Order?”

Damerel shrugged. “I have no idea. I never forgot that day, but I didn’t know it was him. Not until I heard him tell the story for the first time.”

Treasa sighed, a smile playing at her lips. “Do you think your sister will mind that I memorialized her nameday?”

“I think Erin will love it,” Damerel said, “You can ask her yourself, if you want.” He paused, his voice growing soft. “I would very much like you to meet her while she is in town.”

Treasa leaned in, wondering if the First Guardian had imagined anything like this when he had chosen her to find his Lasting Memory. She smiled up at Damerel. “I am ready.”

#inklingschallenge #team tolkien #genre: secondary world #genre: time travel #theme: visit the sick #theme: burial #story: complete

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darkvveb · 2 years ago

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things that make me feel Masc (in no particular order):

chunky rings

shirts with the sleeves cut off

eating a huge burger

drinking from glass bottles

dirty hands

helping elderly folks

catching and releasing bugs found in my apartment

my punk battle jacket

being kind to little ones

cooking for others

working with plants

chunky platform shoes

computers and technology

being able to fix things for others

tattoos and piercings

leather

thick bracelets and watches

band tees

pocket knives

big dogs

carrying enough in my bag to be prepared for anything

taking care of my cats

travelling alone

handmade gifts

playing guitar

straight vodka

physical crafts

reading to better myself

carrying things for my coworkers or mom (cant do often bc disability but makes me feel good when i can ^^)

taking care of my body

dyed hair styled messily

loud, angry music

graphic tees

being willing to fight to protect the people around me

driving

horror

loving men

(non-exhaustive list. feel free to rb and add what being masc looks like for you :) )

#alt title: non toxix masculinity i like to participate in #masculinity means different things 2 different people. this is what it is 2 me #i always want to be the guy that makes little old ladies say 'what a nice young man' :)#lgbtq #queer #queer community #genderqueer #transmasc #queer masculinity #butch #masculinity is not the enemy #txt

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deadpuppetboi · 1 year ago

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Goretober Day 3: Jaw

There are four types of websites on the internet.

1. Regular: Regular: News articles, profile pages, and even forums discussing what was what and why. Anyone has access to such a thing.

2. Strange: Websites that cater to specific groups, such as children's shows or people's unusual interests. Take a few spins and you'll find the specific websites in the far corner.

3. Absurd: The similar websites, but catered to the ridiculous and delusory, most likely conspiracy theories ranging from aliens to Bigfoot. Ranging from the most remote regions, the ludicrous would be discovered after traveling through a few weird websites.

4. Illegal: Snuff videos, purchasing illegal substances, and discussing information that no sane person would communicate with another. If you're not careful, the men in blue might come around to inspect if the search bar was correct.

Harold would not describe himself as an expert; rather, he was an observer.

He had his fair share of watching both the most heinous and the cutest sections of the internet on the same day. Whatever caught his interest in what he watched, complete video, no pausing, and fully immersed himself in the experience from start to finish. Any other teenager his age would puke at the sight of a man being skinned alive, but Harold would merely watch while eating a fatty cheeseburger.

Tonight was just like any other.

Surfing the web on his computer, idly clicking on anything grabbed his eye and eating whatever greasy junk food was on his dirty desk. His room was disorganized, with crumpled papers and debris strewn around, all lighted by the computer screen. Harold hadn't been bothered by the mess, telling himself he'd pick up after himself when he had enough time.

But, if he was being honest, he just lacked the motivation to do so.

Harold sniffed as he moved his mouse to a search bar above. He typed in a URL he'd seen dozens of times before, his thoughts fixed on what he could see next. He considered one site but changed his mind after watching all the videos and participating in the forums with like-minded folks.

A good friend of his told him about this site months ago, and he used his account to go through the passcode and stuff like that. The grown man took a little break while typing in the URL to sip his drink before finishing it.

‘Valient-ent.tv’

When he pressed enter, the computer blurred for a second before clearing up to reveal a familiar warning.

‘WARNING!

THIS SITE IS FOR ADULTS ONLY AND CONTAINS DISTURBING MATERIAL. IF YOU ARE UNDER THE LEGAL AGE, YOU MUST LEAVE NOW.’

Harold scoffed and entered the information by clicking on the username and password. When he was completed, he clicked on the small 'terms and conditions' box and pressed enter, finally gaining access to the website.

Valiant Video Enterprises is one of the most popular websites for watching, distributing, and purchasing snuff films in any format.

While Harold hasn't purchased anything from the website (30 dollars for a plastic bag is ridiculous), he has browsed the many forums and viewed a film or two. Tonight, though, he arrived early, his gaze drawn to the huge and colorful words in the center of the page.

‘LIVE: TEACHING SUM FUCKERZ SUM MANNERZ’

Harold clicked on the LIVE button, his computer trying to keep up with the quality before finally displaying the video.

The scenario in front of him was typical, but with a twist. Two battered guys his age were tied up and sitting on metal chairs, both with new and old injuries. One was sobbing, while the other was threatening the men behind the camera with whatever threat they could think of.

But it wasn't them that Harold was looking forward to seeing; it was the man who appeared out of nowhere and strode into the scene that piqued his curiosity.

“Oh, boys, why did it have to come to this?”

A man clothed completely in leather and latex walked out of the darkness, a big and white smile shining through the terrible quality. He was dressed in heavy leather boots lined with black and red, a coat with the same color variation, belts wrapped around each limb, and each corner was as sharp and exact as his nails. The man's face was entirely hidden by his costume, so there was no way of knowing who he was. Apart from the pinpricks of his eye holes in his mask, the only thing visible was his dazzling white teeth.

The man sporting such attire is named Mr. Nasty.

One of the most significant figures in the snuff film industry, his efforts paved the door for expansion not just from one country to the next. Profiting millions off his crazy thoughts and attracting the attention of both the sane and the insane. His heinous crimes landed him on the FIB's most-wanted list; among other criminals, his work is regarded as the worst of all.

Mr. Nasty placed his hands on the men's shoulders, causing them to scream in terror. He laughed as he tenderly padded their shaved heads, sensing their unwillingness to go through another session.

“I thought we had a genuine connection here. A real one. Not one of those fucked up fake ones you see on tv generally targeted towards the young teen demographic.”

He snatched each of their heads and drew them close to his, creating a pouty face as the two men apologized. Mr. Nasty looked over from behind the camera as if attempting to attract the attention of the men behind the camera.

“I really thought we had a connection, honestly, I thought we did.”

After looking down at the camera and witnessing the blinking red, he smiled and went forward into view. He knelt, his face neatly placed up against the camera, and smiled wide and triumphantly.

“Hi everyone.”

Harold eventually saw the chat beside the live broadcast and clicked on it to join the online chat. He smiled at the other remarks that immediately piled in while making a fast note to type up his response.

humperdick: Finally, something I can look forward to.

Rod_Wood: Fresh meat to squeeze! Make ‘em squirm!

captain nemo: Take their shoes off.

“Fuckin’ weirdos,” Harold muttered as he typed in his comment.

@@@l33tdo0d@@@: What did they do this time?

A voice from the other side of the camera piped out, informing Mr. Nasty of the comments that were made. Mr. Nasty appeared content, but not as glad as he was to answer Harold's inquiry, swiftly rising to his feet and returning to the two men.

“What did they do?! My Lord, I can't answer that, these two need to answer for themselves!”

The latex man gripped the two men's shoulders again, this time sharp nails grasping their skin to catch their attention.

“Please, gentlemen, tell the wonderful viewers back home what the fuck you both did to piss me off! They’re dying to know!”

One of the men continued to cry, while the other maintained his cool and spat at the masked man.

“Man, fuck you, we didn't do shit!”

Mr. Nasty was taken aback and looked down at the man.

“You didn't do shit?”

He scoffed, glancing at the camera, and pointed at the man.

“You hear that boys and girls, he didn't do shit!”

He splayed his palms in the air, emulating his astonished expression, before his arm snapped to the side. Fist clenched, brass knuckles slamming the man's threats away, wrenching his head to the side as his jaw involuntarily closed on his tongue. The man let out a quick gasp, coughing up blood as his tongue bled freely from overbiting.

Before he could finish his sentence, he was hit again, this time right in the nose, a sharp crack emanating from the assault alone.

“Bull fucking shit you didn't do shit! You both exactly knew what you did and I'm not going to speak up for you both like I'm your fucking parents. You’re grown-ass men, act like it, dammit, and tell the truth!”

Nasty yelled, grabbed the man's head, and pulled him up to face him. The man on the opposite side exclaimed, yelling his response.

"We'd know if you just told us what we did! We've never seen you before, believe me!"

Nasty turned to face the bereaved guy, and Harold watched as he muttered and snapped his fingers.

“God, I have to do everything myself-”

Two masked men walked in, pushing bloodied stainless steel trolleys into view. Nasty stepped forward and picked out the weapons on the two men as they began to struggle.

“Well, I guess I just need to keep digging through those empty heads of yours to get you to think! But, I've used up all my options, I believe that the viewers should be the ones to pick out what to do tonight!”

The chat quickly became animated as they typed in their requests for what could be done to the two males. A few people inquired as to what brought these two men together in this chamber, but their questions were drowned by the others' desire to see the carnage.

Nasty laughed at every request until he read Harold's.

@@@l33tdo0d@@@: They must’ve talked shit about you Nasty, maybe they need to eat shit to realize what they've done to you.

Harold paused before typing in another comment.

@@@l33tdo0d@@@: Honestly, now that I think about it, not even shit could change their mind! I think they need their jaws rearranged to make them understand what they've done.

Nasty laughed, his sharp claws scraping the weapons in front of him, while the two men shook their heads and repeated apologies after apology. But that didn't appear to change the man's mentality, as his free hand continued to tap away at the stainless steel trolleys. He began to babble to himself in an almost hypnotic rhythm as he examined the weapons in front of him.

Harold turned up the volume to hear Nasty speak.

“I tried the hammer before. Scissors can only go so far. Pliers don't do much either.”

Nasty then snapped his fingers and had a eureka moment before beginning to search through the weaponry in front of him. He clicked his tongue a few times before grabbing the weapon and holding it up in the air for all to see.

While the other two men were perplexed by the thing, Harold recognized it and laughed.

“Oh, shit-”

“Wha-what is that?” One of the men inquired, staring at the equipment and attempting to make sense of it in his head.

“This, boys and girls, is called The Pear of Anguish!” Mr. Nasty answered, holding the pear-like device in his hands. “This baby was used often in medieval times, as a proper torture device, it was used to punish those of all kinds. Women, liars, non-believers, and most dreadful of all: Homosexuals.”

There was the sound of laughter from behind the camera, Mr. Nasty joining in as he stepped back and stood behind the two men.

“Now, if you don't know, The Pear of Anguish was used in two ways to garner its name. You see these four metal leaves here?” The man twisted the device's end to widen the metal leaves, revealing the sharp twisted metal from behind. Harold could see the device plainly even with the poor quality.

“They expand by a simple twist of my hand, now I want you to realize the goal isn't to puncture the flesh but rather stretch it. And I know what you may be asking. Mr. Nasty, where in God’s holy name and the domain would you put The Pear of Anguish?”

Mr. Nasty gave out another laugh, moving over towards the man who spat at him earlier.

“Boys and girls, you must know that the human race were ever so creative with their ideas on how to get answers out of one another. With this particular device, however, there were only certain places where it would be placed to gather the worst possible anguish known to man!”

He drew the device across the bloodied man's cheeks, making him cringe.

“The mouth and in the anus, and honestly, it doesn't take a scientist to put two and two together to know what happens next, does it?”

Harold's gaze wandered over to the conversation, which appeared to have figured out how the device operated. Their enthusiasm improved the ratings, and even more individuals joined in right before the show began. It was then that the men realized what was going to happen to them as well.

They each shook their heads, pleading for aid as they strained in their bindings. Nasty ignored their protests and seized the man's jaw, pressing his fingers in as he forced it open and inserted the gadget from inside. Nasty grabbed the man's neck and yanked him up.

“Hold still, baby, I need you still for this one.”

Nasty locked the gadget in place while the man sobbed uncontrollably. He started to apologize again, but he coughed as Nasty grabbed the end of the device and twisted it violently by the wrist. The metal flaps began to open forcefully, bracing the man's jaw wide open as his worries became a reality.

"Stop!" shouted the other man, "Stop this, God!"

Nasty shook his head, twisting the device yet again, prompting the man in front of him to open his mouth even wider.

“I’m not sure, should I keep going, my beautiful viewers?”

The discussion urged Nasty to continue, with people leaving comments and cheering to watch the vile and despicable gore. Nasty smiled and returned his attention to the man, offering him a simple shrug.

“Well, the people have said it, I have no responsibility for what I may do next!” The masked man then grasped the end of the gadget and twisted it violently, causing the victim to cry out in pain.

“Open wide~”

With each twist, his jaw seemed to expand more than it should. Fresh saliva dripped down his lower lip, his tongue smacking the gadget ineffectively as it grew. As the device ripped into his skin, the man yelled, his teeth clamping and groaning as the pressure grew. He tried to move away, only to have his gums bleed and his teeth fall out of their proper place.

His scream was similar to the others, but in Harold's opinion, it was exactly what he had hoped to hear from the start.

Flesh ripped like paper, blood spilled like a torrent, and bones snapped under pressure. No words could express the man's suffering at this particular moment, his body trembling slightly as his eyes rolled at the back of his head. He choked on his blood, fighting to breathe as he clutched for any mouth of air and his jaw began to break with another twist of the gadget within his mouth.

Mr. Nasty moved back, exposing the scene to the cameras in front of him, when he had gone as far as the device could go. The untouched man continued to scream, most likely to his now dead comrade, pleading for pity as he sobbed futilely. He screamed as Nasty yanked the device from the dying man, watching as his broken jaw bungled over itself, exposing flesh and bone and spewing blood like no other.

Nasty stood tall and proud, returning the equipment to its original form while singing a song to himself and inspecting the gore left on it.

"Oh, now isn't that beautiful?"

He angled the bleeding gadget to one side, allowing the light to shine on it.

"It's art, I'm telling you, it is."

He gently approached the distraught man, his smile never leaving his face. He tapped the bloodied device on the man's chest, causing him to flinch and wail even more.

"I'm sorry," he grumbled, "I'm so sorry." I am. I'm very sorry."

Nasty ignored the man's cries, feeble apologies, and ineffective excuses. He let him speak, keeping a close eye on his anguished expression while tapping the device on his chest. Nasty leaned in close, lovingly caressing the man's head back as he dried his tears with his thumb.

"This is what happens when you cut someone off on the freeway."

For a few seconds, the man appeared perplexed before his eyes widened, absolute disbelief written across his face. But before he could adequately respond, Nasty jumped to his feet and turned to face the cameras, chuckling.

“Now,” he said in a booming voice, “Who wants to see The Pear of Anguish on the other end of the line?!”

As the chatter grew louder, the man yelled out in response, and Mr. Nasty called in men to put the man in place, Harold yawned. He blinked slowly as the man was released from his bindings, only to be tossed onto the table, laying on his stomach, his garments ripped off by a simple grab and pull.

Harold paused the live feed as the camera panned to the man's terrified expression on his distraught face, taking a moment to stretch. He yawned again, looked at the time, realized it was late, clicked his tongue, and looked at his computer.

Harold then exited the website, shut down his computer, and grudgingly rose from his creaking seat, taking just two steps before collapsing onto his filthy bed.

That's enough internet for tonight.

#tw gore #tw blo0d #tw cursing #mr nasty is a menace and in this essay I will-#mr nasty #manhunt #manhunt ps2 #manhunt 2003 #ps2 #rockstar #rockstar games #goretober 2023 #goretober #my writing

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