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flowersforbucky · 2 months ago

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sweetener

bucky barnes x reader

summary: when the vacation that you've been planning for months gets canceled due to a last minute mission, you can't help but feel bummed - the bright side is that you're being sent on a mission with bucky.

word count: 5.3k - my masterlist

warnings/tags: canon level violence, descriptions of injuries, mention of blood, almost drowning, hospital setting, bad guys getting killed (not descriptive), non-sexual nudity, hurt/comfort trope, avenger!reader, friends to lovers, fluff, language, reader pov, no use of y/n, fem reader, bucky being super soft, not explicit but mdni please

when life deals us cards

make everything taste like it is salt

then you come through like the sweetener you are

to bring the bitter taste to a halt

Hand warmers. Flashlight and extra batteries. Can opener. Matches. First aid kit –

You glance down the handwritten list for the dozenth time that morning, checking and rechecking that you aren't forgetting anything obvious.

Your eyes flicker between the ridiculous amount of supplies scattered across your bed and the three large duffle bags on your floor that you're determined to pack it all into. You know that you are most likely being excessive, but you'd much rather be too thorough than not thorough enough when you're about to be miles deep in the Appalachian wilderness.

Sure, you'd be staying at a relatively civilized campground with restrooms and showers, but this is the first time that you've been camping in years, and your first time ever going camping alone.

A two day road trip there, then six days in the Great Smoky Mountains, and then another two day road trip back to upstate New York.

A much needed ten days of time spent by yourself, seeing as how you haven't gone on anything resembling a vacation in over two years. The last couple years have been nonstop work with very little time for relaxation.

To say that you're excited would be an understatement. Although you find immense fulfillment in the work that you do with the Avengers and can't see yourself doing anything else, you're ready to sit by a warm fire and sleep under the stars without a care in the world.

Just as you've finished packing the second bag and are about to begin on the third, the Bluetooth speaker that your cell phone is paired to begins blasting your ringtone, cutting off the music that you'd been listening to while you pack.

When you grab the phone off of your nightstand and see the name Nick Fury displayed across the screen, a ball of unease immediately forms in the pit of your stomach.

Nick Fury isn't the type to call and chit chat about how your day is going or what shows you've been binge watching. He's the type to call when he wants something done, and wants it done now.

“Hey, Fury,” you greet in a neutral tone as you perch on the edge of your bed. With the phone still connected to your speaker, you place it back down on the nightstand so that you are free to wring your hands together.

“Agent,” Fury's voice booms throughout your room. “I hope I've caught you before you've left the state of New York.”

Godfuckingdammit.

“Uh - yep. I'm still here. Packing up for my trip right now,” you answer, trying your hardest to conceal the irritation in your voice. There's a small voice in the back of your head telling you that you should just lie and say you are already on the road, but you're not stupid enough to lie to Nick Fury.

There's a second, louder voice in the back of your mind screaming at you that you shouldn’t have even answered the phone.

“You know I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm going to suggest you pack a tactical suit and weapon of choice instead of hiking boots and a sleeping bag. We just got word that a vibranium weapons dealer we've been tracking will be receiving a large shipment at a port in Destin tomorrow night. Need you and Barnes on a flight to Florida this afternoon.”

“Florida?” you repeat, unable to hide the shock and disappointment in your tone. “I can't go to Florida right now. I've been planning this trip for months. I put in the notice for my leave–”

“I realize that this is unfortunate timing but I'm afraid that this is non-negotiable, Agent,” he interrupts you in a tone of finality. “If we don't intercept this shipment then these weapons fall into very dangerous hands. With Romanoff and Rogers still in San Antonio until next week, I have no choice but to ask you and Barnes to handle it.”

You exhale an audible, frustrated breath and massage the heels of your palms into your eye sockets. You don't know why you're surprised. It's not like illegal arms dealers take your vacation time into consideration when they plot their dealings.

“Is that understood, Agent?” he asks when you don't respond.

“Yes,” you say as you dig your nails into the flesh of your palm to hold back any further argument. “Yes, I understand.”

“Great. The jet leaves in three hours.”

The line cuts off before you can get another word out.

You groan out loud. Three hours. That doesn't even leave you enough time to feel sorry for yourself.

You look around at the chaotic state of your room before your gaze lands on the already packed duffle bags filled with camping supplies.

You're too annoyed and short on time to care right now, so you empty the contents of both bags back onto your bed and tell yourself that you'll deal with the mess when you get back home. For now, you need to focus on packing the appropriate items for taking down a vibranium arms dealer in hotass Florida.

Beneath all of the disappointment and frustration, there's a glimmer of relief that at the very least it's Bucky who you're being sent on this unexpected mission with. You may not be fond of hot weather, but you are quite fond of him.

••••••

Just as Fury said, the jet departs from the compound at exactly three o'clock. You sit in the aircraft's cabin, reading through a thick file containing all of the information that SHIELD has compiled on Dmitri Petrov's crime empire, ranging from drug smuggling to illegal arms deals.

You are only a few pages into the report and it's abundantly clear why this mission was non-negotiable. Petrov has been getting away unscatched for years - tomorrow night will be the first clear opportunity for a take down since getting on SHIELD's radar.

“Coffee?” A voice snaps you back to reality, making you realize that you're reading the same sentence for the dozenth time. “Three creams, two sugars.”

You look up to find a vibranium hand holding out a disposable cup to you. If the fact that he's committed the way you take your coffee to memory isn't enough to increase your heart rate, his smirk and the crinkles around his blue eyes do the trick.

“Thank you,” you tell him, snapping the folder shut on the table in front of you. “My eyes are on the verge of bleeding.” You take a sip of the coffee - indeed, three creams and two sugars.

He takes the seat directly across from you, spinning the folder around for him to flip through himself.

“We land in less than half an hour and you've been reading this the entire flight,” he says teasingly as he thumbs through the pages. “I think it's safe to say you're prepared.”

He places the file back down, returning his attention to you.

“Just trying to get myself in the right headspace. I didn't know anything about this operation until a few hours ago, you know.”

Not one to complain, you had yet to bring up the fact that your trip had been postponed in order for you to be here. You had talked about the trip on several occasions with Bucky, but you didn't expect him to remember the exact dates that you were supposed to be gone.

Sure - if he was going to be away for over a week, you'd be hyper aware of it until he returned - but you weren't naive enough to think that he would know the exact dates of your comings and goings.

“I know,” he sighs, a sympathetic look on his face. “I was on my way to tell you to have a good trip and to be safe when I got the call from Fury this morning.”

Oh. Your cheeks heat at the casual admission from him.

“I'm sorry about your trip. I know you were really looking forward to it,” he adds sincerely. “I'm going to find extra enjoyment in putting Dmitri Petrov behind bars for causing it to get canceled.”

“You and me both,” you chuckle. “Really though, it's okay. I was bummed, but it's not the end of the world. It can easily be rescheduled once this guy is locked up and we're back home.”

You don't add the fact that you find yourself caring less and less about the canceled trip the longer that you sit here with him.

“There is at least one silver lining to this, you know,” he chimes, leaning forward with his elbows on the table between you. You instinctively lean in closer too, causing the side of your leg to brush against his beneath the table. You wait to see if he'll pull away, and when he doesn't, you leave the side of your thigh resting against his.

“Oh, yeah? And what's that?”

“Petrov’s shipment isn't set to arrive until tomorrow night, and they've sent us down here the day prior. It's not like we have to stay holed up in our hotel room for the next twenty-four hours, right?”

••••••

Bucky's right - there's no sense in locking yourselves inside the hotel room until the time of the weapons deal tomorrow evening, but when you see the hotel room that you'll be spending the next couple nights in, you think you would also be okay with staying inside if you had to.

It's not a five star resort by any means, but in comparison to the dingy roadside motels that you're normally stuck in for missions? This place might as well be a Four Seasons.

It's relatively small, but there's more than enough space for the two of you. There's one full size bed, plus a couch that converts to a futon mattress - the latter of which Bucky insists on taking, giving you the bed. The bathroom is nearly as big as the main room, with a jacuzzi tub that's bigger than three standard bathtubs put together.

And the best part of it? When you open the curtains to the sliding glass door on the backside of the room, there's a clear view of turquoise water and white sand.

“I guess Fury felt a little bad about springing this on me at the last minute, after all,” you sigh as you pull the door open, letting the light breeze pull the smell of saltwater into the room. “Can't say that I’ve been given a beachfront room for a mission before.”

Bucky walks up to stand beside you, leaning against the doorframe and staring out to the ocean.

“It's definitely a step up from the rat and roach infested Motel 6 that Sam and I had to spend three nights in when we were sent to Atlanta for recon last month.”

You shake your head, both cringing and laughing at the memory of him ranting about the motel room as soon as he saw you after returning home.

“It was the size of a fucking capybara. Why are you laughing? I opened the bathroom door and it charged at me–”

A sudden deep rumbling noise snaps you out of the memory and you glance down at your stomach in surprise. You suppose it makes sense that your body is screaming at you to eat - you had such little time to pack for Destin before your flight left that you hadn't even bothered with lunch today.

“How does pizza sound?” Bucky asks with a knowing smirk. “I saw a pizza place just down the street on the way here.”

“Anything sounds good right now,” you sigh, both starving and exhausted from your day of packing, unpacking, re-packing and traveling.

“I'll go grab one for us,” he tells you, pulling the keys to the rental car out of his pocket. “Just stay here and get settled in.”

You don't object, itching to change into comfier, more weather appropriate clothes. When you left the state of New York just a few hours ago, it was chilly outside. Now that you are in eighty plus degree Destin, the sweater and boots that you're wearing have got to go.

You unpack your bag, thankful that you had brought a pair of casual drawstring shorts. You throw them on, along with a tank top. You decide to go ahead and convert the futon from a sofa into a bed, and then search through the hotel room's small linen closet for a set of sheets and a quilt. If Bucky insists on you taking the comfier sleeping option and going to get food for the two of you, you figure the least you can do is make his bed for him.

When he returns, he not only has a large cardboard box containing the pizza, but a plastic bag hanging from his vibranium arm as well.

“Grab a towel and follow me,” he tells you before he's even closed the door behind him.

“Follow you?” You laugh, taken aback by the instructions. “Where are we going?”

You hop up from where you'd been mindlessly scrolling on your phone on the bed, doing as he asked and grabbing one of the complementary beach towels from the bathroom closet.

“Not staying holed up in our hotel room. Remember?”

And with that he pulls the sliding glass door open with his empty hand and exits the room, heading towards the beach that sits directly in the backyard. You don't even take the time to throw on a pair of tennis shoes before practically running after him through the sand.

He comes to a stop when he's a few yards away from where the waves wash up against shore and turns back to look at you. You take it as your cue to spread the towel across the sand at your feet.

He sits down and you follow, the cardboard box nestled between you. He opens it, revealing a pizza that is split down the middle - half your favorite, half his favorite.

“I know it's not a campfire in the Great Smoky Mountains,” he smirks. He digs into the plastic bag and pulls out a drink for each of you, along with some napkins. “But it's the best I could do in our current situation.”

The sentiment leaves you momentarily speechless. You know it isn't a grand declaration of love, and it might not mean as much to some people as it does to you - but you can't remember the last time someone went out of their way just to improve your day in such a simple yet thoughtful way.

Between the pizza, the vibrant pink and purple sky as the sun sinks beyond the ocean's horizon, the sound of the waves and him beside you, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now.

“No,” you murmur. “It's not. But it's perfect.”

••••••

The next day, you manage to forget that you're actually on a super important mission taking down a dangerous illegal arms dealer.

The first half of the day feels like an actual vacation - the closest thing you've had to a vacation in a long time, anyway. You sleep in until nearly ten o'clock in the morning - which may not be considered sleeping in for some people, but in this line of work, you've overslept if you're still in bed at eight am.

After waking up thoroughly rested and refreshed, the two of you get brunch and then spend the early hours of the afternoon leisurely strolling at the boardwalk just a short drive from your hotel.

You and Bucky are sitting on a bench eating ice cream when you check your phone for the first time in hours and realize how quickly the day has gone. It's already four o'clock - you're due to be on lookout at the pier where Petrov's exchange will occur soon.

“What's wrong?” Bucky asks when you huff under your breath as you stick your phone back into your pocket. “Nervous about tonight?”

You're not nervous, truthfully. You're fully confident that you and Bucky will be able to handle the job. You've been on countless missions less straight forward than this before, and so has he.

“No,” you shake your head as you take another bite of your ice cream cone. “It's… silly,” you say, waving your hand in dismissal.

“I'm sure it's not silly,” he assures you gently.

You pause, staring at a couple holding hands in the distance as you contemplate your words.

Bucky seems to follow your gaze.

“Today has just been really nice,” you shrug with a small smile. “I almost don't want to go back home.”

From your peripheral vision, you see his face shift to look at you. You continue to eat your ice cream, pretending that his stare doesn't warm you more than the Florida sun.

“We're on the same page then, doll.”

••••••

A few hours later, a feeder ship pulls up to the pier just after dusk.

“We've got eyes on three men,” you say lowly into your communication device. “They're guarding the pier. No sign of Petrov yet.”

“He'll show,” Fury's voice echoes in your ear. “Keep watch until then. Backup is on standby to take him in.” The comm clicks off before you can respond.

“I know there's a lot riding on this going smoothly,” you grumble as you bring your binoculars back up to your eyes. “But sometimes I think he just really needs to get laid.”

You and Bucky are across the road from the pier, concealed by large shrubs and the darkness of the night sky. You've been sitting here as still and silently as possible for well over an hour, before Petrov's men had even arrived to stand guard at the dock.

You really fucking have to pee.

Headlights begin to approach from down the street, and as the vehicle gets closer you're able to see that it's a large, black van.

Totally not suspicious at all.

It comes to a stop close to the boat dock, and a second later Petrov hops out of the driver's seat. You recognize him right away by his shrimpy build and receding hairline.

“I should just take them all out from here and be done with this,” Bucky grumbles from beside you.

“I agree,” you sigh. “But Fury's adamant that Petrov be brought in alive if possible. He’s got an empire behind him that we need to find out as much as possible about. His men, however..” you trail off.

Bucky looks through the scope of his gun, zeroing in on one of the guards.

“Blow a tire on the van first,” you murmur. “So Petrov can't flee.”

“I'll take out these three guards, and then I'll get Petrov and call for back-up. You worry about getting to that ship and taking out anyone inside. Sound like a plan?”

“Easy peasy,” you agree.

Less than thirty seconds later, all three guards have dropped dead and Petrov is frantically running to his van, unaware that Bucky had shot the back tire after killing his guards. You and Bucky emerge from the shrubs, sprinting across the road. He dashes towards Petrov, who freezes and begins shouting curses in Russian when he sees what is running towards him.

Bucky lands a punch to Petrov's jaw as you're running past them, only slowing down enough to not trip over the guard’s dead bodies that are littered across the dock.

You're only a few yards away from the ship when you hear Bucky screech your name. You immediately come to a halt, turning back to see why he could be calling for you.

You see a tall, burly man - someone that you and Bucky hadn't noticed before - sprinting down the dock after you. He raises his arm above his head, his hand holding a rocklike object that he sends barreling in your direction.

It's the last thing you see before everything fades to black.

••••••

The shrill, repetitive beeping of a monitor pulls you out of limbo and back to earth.

You're met with painfully bright, fluorescent lighting that has you squinting your eyes shut before you can make sense of your surroundings.

“Bucky,” you attempt to call out but it sounds like the croak of a lifelong smoker. Your eyes begin to adjust to the harsh lighting, allowing you to see that you're alone in a hospital room. You raise your fingertips to where it feels as if your brain is pulsing through your skull. There's a thick, defined knot on the top of your head that's sensitive to the touch.

Panic starts to take over you. Bits and pieces of the mission start to flash through your mind. Bucky shooting the guards, you running towards the feeder ship when you heard Bucky yell your name and then turning to see –

“Bucky!” You call out louder, your voice still hoarse. You sit up, not hesitating to carelessly yank an IV out of your arm. You're vaguely aware of the fact that you're in only a hospital gown and that blood is now trickling down your left arm, but you don't care.

You throw your legs over the side of the bed, standing up far too quickly. Your vision fades to a fuzzy gray and you're overcome with an intense wave of vertigo as the room spins around you. You grab onto the metal side railing of the hospital bed to keep yourself upright, desperately trying to focus your eyes enough to find the nurse's call button.

“Hi! I'll be to your room in just a moment–” An overly cheerful, feminine voice pours from the speaker a moment after pressing the button.

“What happened? How long have I been here? Where is my–”

The door to your room opens, and you immediately breathe an audible sigh of relief as your last question is answered. He looks as though he could use a good night's sleep, but he is okay.

“What the fuck happened?” Bucky exclaims as he rushes over to where you're still clutching the hospital bed railing for support. You follow his gaze to your arm, seeing that there's now blood all over your gown as well as the white floor around your feet.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you mumble, embarrassed by your current state. He guides you back to the edge of the mattress before walking away to get a towel from the bathroom. “I was worried something happened to you,” you add weakly.

He wipes the blood trail on your skin before using the hand towel to apply pressure to the puncture in the bend of your arm.

“I'm okay,” he assures you delicately. “I had just gone to get some coffee.” He glances at the styrofoam to-go cup that you hadn't even noticed him place on the bedside table when he entered the room.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask, noticing that it's still pitch dark outside. You also notice that he's no longer in the clothes that he wore on the mission - now wearing a pair of loose fitting black sweatpants and a matching hoodie. “What happened?”

“There was another guy in the back of Petrov’s van,” Bucky tenses, still holding the towel to your arm for you. “We were both distracted and he snuck up on you. He hit you over the head with a piece of vibranium and threw you into the water.” His jaw clenches as he recounts what happened, meeting your gaze with a pained look.

“But you saved me,” you finish for him.

“Yes,” he gulps. “I did. But I was almost too late. By the time I knocked out Petrov and killed the man who hit you.. it felt like it took forever to find you in the water. You almost drown–”

He cuts himself off, unable to force the last word out. A nurse enters the room as you open your mouth to offer him reassurance. Bucky holds your gaze for a split-second longer before reluctantly dropping his hold on your arm and turning to take a seat in the room's singular guest chair.

The nurse informs you that they did a CT scan while you were unconscious, and that while you don't have any swelling or bleeding on your brain from the blow, the doctor believes you to have a concussion and tells you that she will need to do an exam now that you are awake before they feel comfortable discharging you.

Judging by the high-pitched ringing that you've heard in your ears since you woke up and the way that you feel dizzy when you even think about trying to stand up, you don't doubt that you're concussed.

An hour later, you've been thoroughly examined and it is confirmed that yes - you are indeed concussed. The doctor discharges you under the condition that you don't drive and that someone keeps a close eye on you for the next twenty-four hours.

“Don't worry,” you hear Bucky tell her when you step into the bathroom to throw on a pair of dry sweatpants, a t-shirt, and cheap shower slides that the hospital had given you to wear back to the hotel, seeing as how your tactical suit and boots are still sopping wet with ocean water. “I'm not letting her out of my sight.”

The nurse who helps you dress gives you a small smirk at his words.

“You're a lucky woman,” she tells you quietly. “He was worried sick until you woke up.”

You avoid her gaze, your cheeks heating. You busy yourself by tightening the drawstrings to the gray sweatpants.

“I am lucky,” you agree. “He's a great partner.”

She raises an eyebrow at the word partner, but doesn't make any further comment.

By the time that you and Bucky make it back to your hotel room, the sun has started to rise.

Bucky all but carries you inside, only letting go of you when you're perched on the edge of the mattress. Your head is still throbbing despite the extra strength ibuprofen that you'd taken before leaving the hospital, and you still can't walk without stumbling from dizziness, but at least the intense ringing in your ears has begun to subside.

You feel tired down to your very bones, but you have no doubt that Bucky is even more exhausted. You'd been unconscious for nearly eight hours during the night, whereas he had been awake the entire time sitting by your bedside.

“You get some rest,” you tell him. You brace your hands against the mattress, preparing to attempt to stand back up. “I smell like a mixture of sweat and fish from being in the ocean, so I'm going to shower off.”

You push yourself off of the bed, and as quickly as you stand, you're sitting back down. The room immediately begins spinning in circles around you, sending a wave of nausea through the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, not likely,” Bucky huffs lightly. “You can't stand up, and the shower doesn't have a seat. How about we compromise on a bath?”

You give a weak nod, too tired to protest. A warm bath sounds incredible right now.

Bucky retreats to the bathroom, where he turns on the water to fill the tub before returning to help you get up from the bed without toppling over. He secures his flesh arm around your waist and guides you to the closed toilet, where you carefully sit down.

“Do you.. need help undressing? Or..?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you breathe with an awkward laugh. “I think I've got it.”

He gives you a quick nod, looking away to give you the privacy to shed your clothes. You carefully tug the oversized t-shirt the hospital had given you over your head, wincing when it brushes against the swollen knot on the side of your scalp. You rise off the lid of the toilet just enough to push your sweatpants down to your ankles.

“Okay,” you murmur, letting him know that you're ready to step into the tub.

He grabs one of your hands in his, and places his metal hand on the small of your back as you step over the side of the large jacuzzi tub and into the water.

Not that you don't trust your other teammates. But with Bucky, it doesn't feel vulnerable.

You're aware of the intimacy of the scenario, but you can't find it in yourself to feel insecure or embarrassed right now - you're sure that's largely due to the concussion, but you think it's also simply because of who you're with.

If it were Sam, or Steve, or anyone else, you know you'd be mortified to be utterly exposed as they help you take a bath. If it were anyone else you wouldn't be taking a bath right now - you would have just gone to sleep and waited until you could fully do it yourself instead of putting yourself in such a vulnerable position.

He lowers you into the water, your entire body instantly relaxing at the warmth. You glance to his face, noticing a faint purple bruise along his cheekbone.

“I'm going to leave the door cracked. I'll be right outside if you need anything. Just let me know when you're ready to get out, okay?”

You don't respond, instead reaching up to his face, where you run your finger along the outline of the bruise. He freezes beneath your touch, his eyes meeting yours.

“Don't worry,” he assures you softly. “It was a lot worse when it first happened. It's already almost gone.”

“I'm sorry,” you whisper. “It happened because of me. I wasn't paying attention as well as I should have been. Should have heard that guy coming.”

“Don't say that.” He places his flesh hand on top of where yours still rests against his cheek and then brings it in front of his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. “You're okay, and that's the only thing that matters now.”

“Mmm,” you hum, staring at his lips that are no more than an inch away from your hand.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice patient and curious.

You hesitate for a brief moment before leaning forward and pressing your lips to the bruise in a featherlight kiss. You pull back, once more resting your back against the tub and giving him a small shrug.

“Just thinking that I wanted to do that. Have for a while.”

He grins, a faint blush taking over the apples of his cheeks.

“Yeah, I'd say you're definitely concussed.”

He then presses his lips to the side of your hand, causing goosebumps to form across your skin despite the warm water that you sit in.

You chuckle, your smile matching his. “I am,” you agree. “But the concussion will go away soon, and I'll still want to kiss you then, too.”

“I hope that you will do just that.”

••••••

One month later

You wake up to the smell of campfire smoke that creeps through the crack in the partially zipped tent.

Despite a thick sleeping bag, multiple blankets, and the plush sweater that you wear, you can't help but shiver.

Something is missing.

You look around the tent, your eyes adjusting to the early morning daylight that filters into the tent.

Someone is missing.

You reluctantly exit your cozy sleeping bag, shoving your wool sock covered feet into your boots and crawling out of the tent.

Bucky is facing away from you, cracking an egg into a pan that is positioned over the fire.

“Good morning,” you murmur as you creep up behind him, wrapping an arm around his midsection. He wraps his own arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Morning, sleepy head,” he teases softly. “What's on the agenda today?”

“Maybe some hiking, maybe some biking,” you shrug into him. “Maybe a little bit of you keeping me warm in that tent.”

He laughs, more carefree than you've ever seen him before.

“See? It's a good thing that your trip got postponed. What if I wasn't here to keep you warm?”

You raise up to capture his lips in yours, the taste of fresh brewed French press coffee on his breath.

“Remind me to thank Fury for that when we get back.”

thank you so much for reading 💕🫶🏻 comments and reblogs are infinitely appreciated!!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #fluff

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amica-mart · 2 years ago

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#extra large #duffle #bagstyle #duffle bag #sports

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whitexwolfxx310 · 7 months ago

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|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Part 2.

Pairing: Dom!Bucky x Sub!female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level. The reveal!

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v), don't forget no glove no love, edging, asphyxiation, fingering, mild dirty talk, language, praise kink, masked man kink, stalking, harassment, implied harm, breaking in.

Word Count: 5.4

A/Ns: Hi babes! Sorry this took an extra day than intended. Tumblr is being super finicky tonight, I’ve edited and re-edited this so many times. If there’s mistakes just ignore. I hope you like the conclusion!

In case you missed it, Part 1

You didn’t sleep much the next couple of nights, and decided to take some time off of work. Bucky finally reached out, and you updated him as to what was going on. He immediately offered to come home, which you refused and started to downplay the situation.

Hailee has been great with letting you borrow some clothes and little things, since you only grabbed a small bag in a rush before heading to her place to stay a few days ago. You’ve been dreading going back to the apartment, scared to find someone in there waiting for you. But it’s at the point where you need to grab some of your stuff.

Walking into the apartment, it was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. But nothing looked out of place, and was exactly how you left it. Deciding not to spend any longer there than you had to, you promptly tossed a large duffle bag onto your bed and started stuffing it with clothes and any other necessities.

Zipping the duffle closed, you felt a light gust of cool air. Scanning your bedroom window assuming it was the source, you realize it’s open. You never open this window. In fact, it’s always locked. All of the hair on the top layer of your skin stands up to the extent it almost feels like tiny pinpricks. Flight mode is instantly activated; before you can even think, you grab the bag and run, practically tripping over your own feet out of the room.

Grappling with the door knob, the pure panic starts to set in. Just as you’re twisting the knob open, you hear a distant bang coming from another room in the apartment. You freeze at the realization:

I’m not alone.

You know when you’re watching a scary movie and yell at the tv, wondering why the one of the characters was so fucking stupid to do something?

Well, you did exactly that. What possessed you in that moment, you haven’t the faintest idea. But, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears so loudly that you thought your eardrums might rupture, you started to turn around to look.

What primitively catches your attention isn’t what you expected, but quickly makes your chest tighten. The fruit bowl on the kitchen counter that is normally overflowing with lucious, red delicious apples, now just has all apple cores.

The flashback of one being on left on the countertop after Bucky had left blazes in your mind. It suddenly makes sense. Bucky would never leave a mess and it wasn't long after that you saw someone outside your window.

Attempting to swallow the growing dryness in your throat, you continue to turn around. And that's when you see him for the first time. About fifteen feet away, stood an obviously immensely tall man. He wore thick, black shiny leather boots that gleamed lightly in the natural daylight within the apartment. Fitted black jeans with a loose, black hooded sweatshirt that failed to hide how muscular and broad his chest and shoulders were with the hood pulled up.

But two things stuck out the most about his appearance. First, was the tight, black leather gloves he wore on his hands that were currently clenched into rigid fists. The second, was the fact that you couldn't make out his face. All you could see was an elongated paleness, caverned by the blackness of the hood, and it seemed... sinister. He didn't move or make a sound. It was as if you would blink and he would be gone, like a cloud of smoke.

But if anyone was going to disappear, it was going to be you. So taking a chance, you ran. And you didn't stop running. Even with the faint vibration in your pocket alerting you to the new text notification on your phone, you kept going.

It wasn't until you got back to Hailee's place and frantically, out of breath explained to her, that you even remembered about the text message.

"Here," You toss the phone in pure detestation onto her bed, "I don't even want to fucking know what it says." You lean against the opposite wall of her bedroom, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to control the body shakes as you come down from the adrenaline.

Hailee watches you for a brief moment, still not having said much aside from asking if you were okay. Her expression was soft and sympathetic and yet had an dissenting undertone. You couldn't blame her, this all sounded absolutely insane.

Letting out a small, exasperated breath, Hailee sits on her knees from her previous crossed legged position and grabs your cell. As the screen comes to life, her teeth clench down reading whatever is on the screen.

“What?” The concern is evident in your voice as you pry away from the wall, though still holding onto yourself.

Hailee inhales deeply through her nostrils, faking a tightlipped smile, “it’s nothing,” her tone is flat. She’s lying. Clicking the sleep button on the side of the phone to make the screen go black, she makes her way off the bed, “hey, how about we head down to the cellphone store and get you a new phone and number?” She asks, trying to sound like her usual carefree self as she grabbed her crossbody bag.

“Hailee,” you uncross your arms and step in front of her, forcing her to make eye contact, “what is it?”

Searching your eyes, you can see that she is torn. She wants so badly to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what exactly that is in this situation. On one hand, she could just keep it to herself. Let the unknown and curiosity eat you alive from the inside out like it inevitably will. But only because she wants to protect you, shield you from anything that brings you the opposite of joy. Or, she can show you what you’re actually dealing with, and the two of you can come up with a plan and handle it together. Hailee decides on the latter.

Hesitating, her hand shakes slightly as she holds out the phone to you. It appears that now both of you will take this predicament more critically now. Grabbing the phone a tad more aggressively then you meant to, you unlock it and open the messages. But it's not often Hailee gets rendered quiet. Scrolling through the back to back texts, you understand why.

Taking your best friends advice, you immediately went to the cell phone store. She tagged along as you got a completely new phone and number, not transferring anything over, not wanting to take the risk. You didn't download any social media, deciding to take a much needed mental break for a bit. The only thing you did do, was take a few phone numbers that you needed out of your old phone, and even then you wrote them down on a piece of paper to manually add them into your contacts later.

Walking out of the store, you felt as if a weight had been lifted. Hailee locked arms with you, leading you around the corner to the nearest cafe to get iced coffee. It was her answer for everything. Bad day? Iced coffee. Need a pick me up? Iced coffee. Need to clear your head and just ramble about random shit for a bit? Iced coffee. Your best friend has an apparent stalker and we're hoping that changing phone numbers is the end all solution?! Obviously, iced coffee.

Sitting at a small table outside the cafe, enjoying the slight crispness in the fall air, you let out a huge, relieving sigh that makes your shoulders sink. You take the opportunity to add Bucky to your contacts and text him your new number. Although, you decide not to go into detail about your most recent encounter while he's still away on a mission.

Putting the phone down on the table and not have it incessantly go off with calls and texts, let's you feel as though you can finally breathe. "Thank you for coming with me, Hales, I really appreciate you."

Hailee is sucking the remnants of her drink through the straw as she looks up at you. She gives you a small, genuine side smile, "you're welcome," before smirking, "so I'm supposed to have a date tonight, with that guy Noah I've been seeing..." she leaves it open ended. "But, I should totally cancel after everythi-"

"No, please. Go out and have fun. You've been dealing with my shit enough," trying to make your words sound affirming, even with the lingering dread that you still felt.

That's one thing about Hailee. You never quite really have to twist her arm to do anything.

After showering and changing into your comfy jeans and oversized cropped sweater, it was hard not to feel the slightest tinge of jealousy watching Hailee do her finishing touches for date night in the mirror. Jealousy in the sense of missing Bucky and going out and having a carefree night, not in comparing yourself physically.

She swipes yet another layer of clear lip gloss on before fluffing her beach wave blonde hair. Turning to face you, her thick heels clack on the wooden floor as she starts adjusting her boobs in her sleek, dusty rose colored dress.

"What do you think?" Her hands glide down over her curves, "Dress is okay?"

"That dress is fire," and it is, she looks amazing. By the smile she's wearing, she's feeling it too, "too bad it's going to end up on Noah's floor ten minutes into your date." Hailee dramatically gasps, as if that's not true. It totally is.

You're both laughing until she abruptly stops, "I have to go!" She gives you a quick hug and starts scurrying towards the door, a bit awkwardly in the heels, "Bye! Love you! Lock the door!" As she goes to close the door behind her she yells back in, "don't read too much smut on your kindle while I'm gone!" and the door slams.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you lock the door. Hailee just gave you the perfect idea of how to spend your night.

About an hour had gone by, you comfortably laid in Hailee's spare bed, a few chapters deep into your latest book. It was quiet, so when your phone vibrated on the bed next to you- you jumped slightly. Assuming it was Bucky finally having the chance to text you back, you pick it up fairly quickly. But the message you received isn't what you expected at all.

Before even unlocking the phone, you had a text alert from Unknown. There was nothing written, but all the way to the right of the alert, you could see a picture was included.

Promptly, you sat up in the bed and stared at the notification. That familiar wave of unease dispersed throughout your body as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.

This phone number is only a few hours old, how the fuck did he get it already?

The notification banner and you were in a staredown. You had to know what the message was, but you were absolutely terrified at the same time. Your thumbs hover, occasionally twitching over the screen, until you pull the trigger and swipe up.

Us. Hailee...

Driving to your apartment, you broke nearly every single traffic law that there is. The entire time you tried calling Hailee’s phone back to back, just repeating the same mantra; please pick up. Please, please pick up. She never did.

“Hailee!!” You run through your apartment door, not having to mess with it for long as it was already unlocked. You had a feeling it would be. “Answer me!” You yell, breathlessly. The apartment is eerily dark and quiet.

Coming to a halt in the main living space, you whipped your head around looking for clues and try to listen for any signs of distress. But it was so difficult to hear anything over your own breathing and pulse drumming in your ears.

You knew where you had to go, the last picture of your friends dress laid out on your bedspread was the roadmap. The bedroom door was just barely closed over, a creepy orange glow lining it and trying to escape from underneath. Each step closer that you took, felt as if a large spider made entirely of ice was crawling down your spine.

Pushing the door open slightly with just a fingernail, you peered into the room. You knew this is exactly where this person wanted you. For what? There’s only one way to find out.

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, so you took a few small steps in. The glow was more prominent now, giving the room an uncanny romantic ambiance with numerous amount of white candles lit all along the dressers, night tables, and bookshelves.

Taking a broad step forward, your attention is now focused on the bed. Hailee's dress is no longer laid out like it had been in the picture. Instead, there are flower petals sprinkled across your comforter. The intriguing curiosity drew you even more into the room without you even realizing. Picking up one of the petals, you rub it between your fingers, feeling it's supple and delicate smoothness as you examine it more closely. In that moment you recognize it- the familiarity of it's dark appeal. They're black dahlia petals.

Some of the petals congregated in one particular area on the bed, revealing an elegant, black gift box about the size of a large book. Your lips part slightly as you pick up the box, captivated by it's alluring magnetism. Taking off the lid, your brows furrow slightly in confusion. It's a chain. A long, thick slip chain that looks like a necklace but almost long enough to be a leash.

As your finger smoothes over the cold indentations of the chain, you hear a creak come from the floor behind you. In a startled jump, you drop the box- a slight ringing sound deafens the scene even more from the chain hitting the floor. But that's not your concern. Because as you turn around, you see him.

Within arms reach, you are confronted with the person that's been behind all of this. He's even taller up close, broader. Dressed in all black attire, this time swapping the black hoodie for a black t-shirt and black leather jacket. And without the hood, you're able to see the elongated white face from earlier.

It's a Ghostface mask.

He stands as still as a statue, watching you intently, waiting. Your eyes persist in looking him over as your chest rises and falls deeply. When your gaze meets his face once again, his head creepily tilts ever so slightly to one side.

"What's the matter?" He speaks, his voice deep and low, "you look like you've seen a ghost," the tone almost mocking.

Squinting your eyes, you look at him again. And this time you really look at him. His body frame, the clothes, the familiarity of his voice. Your eyes widen at the realization.

"Bucky?" you gape, completely stupefied. Taking the first fearless step in what feels like months, you wrap your arms around him. He returns the sentiment and you feel safe, for the first time in what feels like forever. It suddenly dawns on you that he's not actually on a mission. And probably never was.

"What- What is this?" You ask, looking up at him, slightly pushing the mask up to reveal his stubbled chin and promiscuous grin.

"There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it..." He repeats back the words you said to him a few months ago watching the Scream movie.

The memory of you how you told him about this kink of yours curls around your mind. That this entire time, you were never in any kind of serious danger, he just brought it to life. Weeks and months of preparation went into this, here, tonight. You should have known all along that Bucky would never have been so nonchalant about you in any type of significant situation. You're safe. You always were and always will be.

The tiny icy footprints that had trailed up your spine were long gone, now replaced with a burning and tantalizing desire. You've missed him, thinking he was away while you were dealing with this on your own. But now he's here, fulfilling your deepest desires.

Looking up, Bucky's Pacific blue eyes are already gazing down into yours, a built up and unsatisfied hunger prominent. Moving up onto your tiptoes and grabbing him behind the neck, you bring down his head and capture his lips.

Your mouth parted his, gliding and massaging his tongue with your own. A low growl reverberated from within his throat with approval, and promise to make everything up to you tenfold. Bucky's intoxicating cypress scent fills your nostrils as your inhaled deeply, pressing your breasts up into his chest. Taking off the leather gloves and shrugging his jacket onto the floor, his hands started to wildly wander around your body, giving light squeezes on your hips before settling and interlacing gingerly in your hair.

That didn't last long, though. There was a sudden and hard tug from where Bucky held your hair, enough to pull the two of you apart. The aggressiveness of the gesture was unexpected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love it. His eyes linger on your already swollen lips, now wearing a pursed, provocative grin. His hand releases the tight grip he had on your loose curls, watching the relief from the sting flash across your eyes. Bucky has always been tender, gentle and using your body as a place of worship-but tonight is different.

Grabbing the hem of your sweater, he maneuvers it up and off to join his growing pile of discarded clothes. Dropping to his knees with a loud thud, he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down and weaving his tongue along the freshly exposed skin. Hissing through your teeth, your hips instinctively press forward. He lets out a dark laugh, before grabbing the chain you dropped before. Standing back up, he takes your hand, "Come," he says, leading you towards the cornered edge of the mattress.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his muscular body causes it to sink slightly. His free hand, still holding the chain, grips his own thigh before giving it a light pat, "Sit," he commanded, again keeping that firm edge in his voice that you weren't used to. You enthusiastically follow his orders, sitting delicately facing outward in just your matching ivory lace bra and panties. It's hard not to notice how you just fit. And how much you secretly love his significantly large frame pressed against your much more petite body in comparison to his.

The soft tip of his nose runs along the outside of your neck, his large hands coasting along your shoulders, down your arms, sides, before settling on your thighs. The calluses on his hands leaving a sensational trail of tingles and heat to disperse under your skin.

"Look," his head nods forward once to get your attention, and now you see the reason why he sat you here. In the corner of the bedroom, just a few feet away, is a full length standing mirror angled perfectly to reflect everything.

You see yourself, already flushed with arousal and breathing heavily as you make eye contact with Bucky in the mirror. His devious smile pins you in place as you watch his hands pry open your legs, entrancingly over his. They willingly spread open wide for him, your restless hips now squirming, aching for more. His fingertips trace small circles on your inner thigh.

"I want you to see your face as you fall apart, " he taunted, his voice sultry in your ear, still holding your gaze in the mirror. His middle finger skims across your already embarrassingly dampened panties, causing your back to press against his rigid chest.

There was a vague rattling sound, followed by Bucky placing the large opening of the looped chain over your head and around your neck, “Bucky, what are you doing-” you watch curiously in the mirror. Part of the chain dangles between your breasts, which he wraps around his hand once and slowly starts to pull, causing the loop around your neck to compress.

It’s a choker.

Your eyes go wide, nervousness rippling through you as you grasp his intentions, “Bucky, I don’t know-”

“Do you really think you have a choice?” he barked, pulling the Ghostface mask down back onto his face. Talking to you through the mirror, “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispers, breaking character for a moment to assure you’re safe.

You nod in response, your reflection visibly eases in the mirror as the necklace slackens around your throat. He lets the chain lax too, for now.

Large hands are back to kneading your thighs, a lone finger brushing between your legs when gravitating along the inside. It’s not long until the sensation has you starting to wriggle once again.

Cupping your sex, his hand gently moves up and down, keeping a firm, yet delicate and delicious pressure. Your greedy hips tilt forward, wanting more from his right hand, while the coolness of his left continues to lazily stroke over your skin. But when that icy touch quickly grabs and tears your underwear off in one jolt, you gasp at the tiny bite the ripping cloth left behind.

Now you’re left wide and exposed- to yourself, to Bucky, to the reflections of yourselves staring intensely, watching every movement. The warmth of his hand is back, leisurely gliding two fingers between your already achingly wet pussy. Swallowing hard, your breath hitches as you can not only feel, but see, yourself start to lose composure.

Bucky pulls the two fingers away, holding them up just to your mouth, "wet them for me," he instructs, his voice silk like satin. Taking the two fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirled rapidly around the digits, savoring the salty-sweetness of your arousal. Slowly pulling them back out, you see them shine with your saliva.

Something comes over you in that moment, call it gluttonous, but you pool some extra moisture into your mouth and spit onto the fingers. Just for good measure.

There's a murmured hum of approval in your ear as he spreads your folds, teasing your increasingly sensitive clit between his two fingers. And getting Bucky's praise will only enhance the entire night. Your legs quiver at the deliberate sluggish pace, letting out shaky breaths as the overwhelming throbbing demands more attention.

Finally, the pads of those fingers start to rub your bundle of nerves in unhurried circles. Gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself, your nails clutching his jeans, a whine escapes as your hips try to buck against his hand.

That dark laugh is in your ear again, "good girls don't come until I tell them too," Bucky breathes, overly indulging in how you respond to his touch. It feels like torture, in the best possible way. The combination of his words and caress... you have never felt this good. This wanted.

Your head falls back slightly against his shoulder in small disappointment, whimpering, knowing that he's going to make you beg. And you're getting desperate enough to do so.

The leisurely pace of his fingers picks up, causing your back to arch away from his chest as you start panting. Each swipe building pleasure, layer on top of agonizing layer. Finding yourself in the mirror again, you unapologetically watch as your body vigorously writhes against his hand, your moans spilling from your mouth more and more.

"How badly do you want to come, princess?" The Ghost breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily now, trying to fight off his own desire, evident from the hard protrusion you keep rolling your hips against.

"S-so bad... Please! Please," you pleaded, not caring how desperate it sounds. Adding some additional pressure, your hips stutter. Your breathing practically stops as your moans transform into one long, drawn out strangled whine as you come apart, "O-ooh...oh my god. Oh god!"

Not even fully coming down from the repeated waves, you hear, "God's not here," growled into your ear. In one sudden movement, Bucky stands up with you in his arms before tossing you onto the bed, "just me.” the low rumble emits from his chest. Ripping off the mask, he kneels on the bed and uses his left arm to support his weight. Using those same damned two fingers, he plunges them into your drenched pussy, siphoning a sound from your throat that’s unrecognizable.

“Again,” Bucky breathes, his eyes glazed over with a new kind of wickedness as they lock into yours, “Come for me again. I fucking love all the sounds you make,” With his palm face up, his fingers start pumping you from the inside, running over your g-spot in a come here motion.

Since there was no remission from your last orgasm, the tightness in your belly never fully went away. Watching Bucky, seeing him in the tight black t-shirt while his bicep flexes from working you, his slightly furrowed brow and his lips slightly parted in determination, you could feel it building up once again.

Feeling your walls contract around him, he grinned. He changes his hand motions to going in a frantic up and down movement, and if you know, you know. Your rasped whimpers became silent as you forgot how to breathe and your vision blurred. The build up came on so fast and so strong, the only sound in the room was your ever increasing wetness.

Your mouth dropped open into a silent O, not able to think not a single coherent thought, "Thaaat's it..." Bucky coaxed, "I want you to gush all over my fucking hand," and with his words, your body quivers as you completely shatter with a loud cry. "Goood girl. God, what a good fucking girl," he soothes. You winced slightly as he pulled out his fingers, collapsing back more into the bed as you try to rein in remembering how to breathe. Bucky sits back on his knees, and almost entirely up to his elbow is glistening with how hard you just came.

With a flat tongue, he presses it to his palm, and licks all the way up to the tip of his middle finger, "Perfect," Bucky hums in satisfaction to himself. Your throat goes dry at the sight, being the cherry on top of all the mouth breathing you've been doing. Am I fucking dreaming?

Pushing his jeans down to his knees, his thick, flushed cock rebounds out of his boxers. Bucky grabs you by the hips, pulling you down the bed before flipping you over onto all fours. Each of his hands grabs a fistfull of your ass, before slapping one side. You moan at the bite of the smack, feeling delusional from needing him inside you so badly. He rubs the reddened cheek before dropping a teeth grazed kiss on the sensitive skin.

There's a coolness between your legs, and you realize that it's your juices sliding down your thighs. Not needing any preparation, you feel the tip of Bucky's fat cock lining up to slide into your tight little slit. He rubs the head up and down, lubricating just enough to push himself in. As he started to sink into you, it took every bit of will you had not to collapse as you felt his slight struggle to get in.

"Fuck, you're tight," he sighs. But truth be told, he's just that big. As if he had a direct roadmap, he slides in effortlessly right to the hilt, poking the sweetest spot of all making you choke out a sob, "You can take it, can't you angel?" He breathes huskily, amusement draped around the words as he dragged his cock back maliciously slow, letting you feel the ridge of each vein, every delectable centimeter of his length.

You feel your eyes roll closed, enjoying the all consuming sensation. With one quick thrust all at once, Bucky simultaneously yanks on the chain of the forgotten choker forcing your eyes open with a loud cry to find him glaring at you in the mirror, "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he reprimanded, in a subdued yet stern voice.

He started to move in a merciless rhythm, keeping the chain taut in one of the hands that clenched your hips. Each thrust delivered not only a delectable deep nudge against your cervix, but a small slap of his balls to your achingly sensitive clit. The combination of internal and external stimulation has you singing your own personal explicit cry, almost on the verge of tears with the intensity.

It's almost cruel the way that he fucks you, like he's dismantling you piece by piece, mentally, physically, emotionally. Never have you been treated like such a prize possession and a cheap whore at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, swallowing him needing moremoremore. You're body's accepted that this pussy is Bucky's. It's meant for him. It was made for him.

In the reflection you can see Bucky wet his lips, his eyes darting between yours and your ass bouncing off of his snapping hips. He continues to murmur soft, filthy praises as he fucks another orgasm from you. The choker tensed as you came, making the edges of your vision blurry- your walls clenching so tightly, causing each stroke to become more intense than the next. After you completely shattered, the chain went slack once again.

Manhandling you one last time, Bucky lays back flat on the bed and positions you to straddle him. You shake your head in an almost delirious state, "I-I can't. Buck, I-" you whisper, thoroughly cock drunk, "I can't," you pleaded.

"Yes you can, angel," his hands glide over your sweat coated thighs, a lecherous expression on his face. You nod ever so slightly, because even as spent and exhausted as you feel, you want to see him come apart. You want to look down into his eyes as joins you in the fucked out bliss.

You grab the base of his cock, using it to align yourself before sliding back down on top of him. Bucky's eyes widen, watching intensely as your bodies joined one another. All the air releases out of his lungs at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him all the way in- deeper, your thighs already trembling. His hands clench your hips as your they start to grind back and forth.

His ab muscles flex under your nail piercing grasp- that pressure once again starting to build. He's just so deep, you're still just so wet from coming 3 times in a row, and now his wide tip is nestled so perfectly against your cervix that each motion of your body feels like you're going to spontaneously combust and die. But there's no way that heaven could be better than this. Those painfully beautiful sapphire blue eyes filled with an rapacious hunger that only you can fulfill.

You're mouth opens in attempt to say his name like a prayer, or something as equally dirty, but all that comes out is a sputter of shuddered gasps. Bucky's unapologetically loud moans grow more frequent, turning into their own long, drawn out beautiful melody, "fuck," he whispers, "that's so good."

Leaning down, chest to chest, you capture his lips in yours- swallowing those gorgeous sounds. Bucky takes this opportunity to thrust his hips up, massaging your inner walls as you push back against him. The loud smacking of flesh borderline drown out the sounds of both your orgasms, but you could feel the vibration from deep within Bucky's throat through the kiss. Rope after rope, you could feel his warmth emptying inside of you.

The strokes became laguid as he maintained the kiss- Bucky's hands cupping your face gently, which was such a dichotomy compared to the way he fucked you tonight. You finally pull your lips apart, collapsing fully on top of his body. Laying in silence, all you can hear is each other's ragged breathing and the drumming of his heart in your ear against his chest.

"I am... never getting rid of that fucking mask," Bucky chuckles lightly.

"Just so you know," you prop your chin up on your palm, "there's 5 other movies in the franchise."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

@marianastudiesart @chaosbarelycontained @wonderbreadbucky @amethystviolin @fluffysucker @buckybraneslover111 @crazyf0robx @thorns-fixations @brairslair @dumdumlolly @miss0giarra @nerdytif @am-3-thyst @blondierog @mrsstuckyboo

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sungbeam · 10 months ago

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬

jeong yunho x gn!reader

1.1k words, friends 2 friends who cuddle ?, one bed trope, fluff, humor, like two swear words cuz who am i without cursing, snuggling, consequences of yunho being Tall (implied that reader is shorter than yunho)

a/n: im sorry that this kinda sucks ass but yeah,, one bed trope :')

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I'm going to hate this,” Jeong Yunho swore as his head poked up into the attic space, eyes wide in horror.

When the inn owners said that the attic was hardly an attic, they unfortunately were not exaggerating. It was close to a crawl space, with just enough room for you to stand up straight, and outfitted with an extra long twin bed, nightstand and lamp, a pillow, and two large sherpa wool blankets. The bed was fitted beneath the slope of the roof because the entire space wasn't even large enough to put the bed in the middle.

You were starting to sweat, and considering there wasn't even heating up here, you raced to calm your nerves. “It'll be fine,” you said with a small, anxious laugh.

Yunho moved his terrified eyes up to you. “Respectfully? I'm gonna go sleep in the storm.”

When he moved to descend the ladder, you slid on your knees to grab hold of his wrist. “Come on, big guy. It's one night.”

“Yn, what if I said I was claustrophobic, huh?” He whined, but reluctantly followed you all the way up the ladder and into the attic. He straightened—big mistake. You heard the loud thump as his head met the roof, and grimaced. “Oooow!”

You hissed and reached over to gently rub the place that began to smart when he leaned down. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he whimpered. “Can I sleep in the lobby?”

Around ten minutes later, after many trials and tribulations and head bonks, you and Yunho somehow transferred your duffle bags up the ladder and into your glorified crawl space. They took up the space just beside the ladder and at the foot of the bed, and as you stared at said twin bed, you wondered if Yunho's legs would even fit on it.

Most likely not.

In fact, you were certain that two people couldn't even fit on the bed unless they were either on top of each other or packed together like sardines.

You reminded yourself that it was only going to be one night. This was what the two of you got for leaving five hours after everyone else, just to get caught in tonight's awful storm and stuck with the only “room” available for miles. In retrospect, it was your fault. Yunho had been generous enough in offering to stay behind with you until you finished your last exam.

“You can have the bed,” you told him as you were both crouched by your bags to grab clothes to sleep in. Despite your realization about your counterpart's long limbs and the bed's shortcomings, you wanted to extend an offer of chivalry.

Yunho twisted around and sent you an incredulous look. “What?”

“You drove us up here,” you replied with a shrug. You swiftly draped your sleep clothes over one arm and gathered your bag of toiletries in the other. “And you waited for me to finish my exam and you're kinda being dealt the short end of the stick with this room.”

He sat down on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, and though his face was still pulled into the same expression, he laughed. “Yn, I hate to break it to you, but I think you're gonna fit better on that bed than I will.”

You pursed your lips, gazing over at the narrow slot on the floor between the other sloping roof and the bed. That was the only other place someone could sleep in this room. “I don't want you to sleep on the floor though.”

“I know I was complaining, but don't worry about it,” he reassured as he turned back to dig through his duffle. He flicked his wrist blindly in your direction. “You can wash up first; I'll set everything up.”

Since he left little to no room for argument, you resolved to do as he suggested. There was a community washroom on the floor below that you made your way toward. As unfortunate as your accommodation was for the night, you were eager to head back up and go to sleep. Yours and Yunho's friends were all waiting at Seonghwa's cabin already, and perhaps it wasn't just exhaustion that made you antsy for this night to get a move on.

You and Yunho just needed to get through tonight. It would be fine.

When you returned to the attic crawl space, Yunho had everything set up as he said he would. He'd found an extra set of sheets from one of the downstairs closets and laid it on the ground by the bed, then rationed one of the blankets for himself and the other for you on the bed.

You let out a tired sigh and trudged over to the bed to grab the pillow from where it rested on the headboard. You set the pillow instead at the head of Yunho's sleeping situation, then balled up one of your jackets to use as your own pillow. Once satisfied, you climbed into bed, and you were out like a light.

Everything was hazy as you emerged from deep sleep to confused half-consciousness. The room was descended into darkness, the sounds of light rain drumming steadily against the sloped rooftop above your head. Your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton—why had you suddenly woken up?

Then you heard it.

“Achoo.” Then another one. And another one.

Even half dead, your brain could put two and two together. You rolled over slightly to wave your arm over the side of the bed, hand flapping around until you bumped Yunho's shoulder. “Hey, Yunho.”

Another sneeze.

“Yun, get your butt up here.”

He grunted. “'m fine.”

“You're gonna get sick,” you grumbled with your face half squished against your jacket zipper. That was definitely going to leave a mark in the morning. “Come up here, for fuck's sake.”

He made another noise, perhaps of acknowledgment, before you heard sounds of movement.

You kept your eyes half-lidded to keep as much light out as possible, and rolled over again. As he crawled onto his knees, and then his feet, you opened up your blanket to him so he could join you.

“Pillow,” he slurred—you whined when it hit you in the face. “Sorry.”

In a drowsy drugged tango, you swapped your jacket out for the pillow and Yunho wormed his way onto the bed beneath your blanket. You scooted as close to the wall as you could, but even then, Yunho was pressed flush against you. His arms came around your waist, his nose wedging itself between your neck and shoulder until he was comfortable.

“Your feet are cold,” you muttered. “Get them under the blanket.”

“Too tall.”

“Show off.”

He huffed out a puff of air against your neck like a laugh, then tucked his knees up slightly to fit under the blanket. Your legs were now tangled among his, your bodies curled tightly together. In the morning, you would rationalize it out as creating body heat to prevent either of you from getting sick.

When movement stopped, you voiced into the darkness, “Better?”

A content sigh. “Better.”

Maybe this accommodation wasn't so bad after all.

ateez m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet

#kflixnet #ateez x reader #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez drabbles #yunho fluff #yunho oneshot #yunho scenarios #yunho drabble #yunho imagines #ateez fanfic

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schoenpepper · 2 months ago

Text

Twisted Wonderland What Ifs

Intro: Ramshackle is in the hands of the fish mafia, Savanaclaw smells like wet fur and sweaty muscles—Heartslabyul’s your only option for the night. (And for the record, Ace is not sleeping with the cat.)

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, fish mafia, reader is yuu duh, early book 3, reader is a bit oblivious lol because why not

A/N: This was not worth a week's wait I'm sorry. If it helps, I'm thinking of a little something to actually write again. Uh, see you (hopefully not next week again).

Masterlist

The stare-off with Grim doesn’t do anything to help your current situation. Regardless of your red hot seething anger, the anemone is still on his furry head and you’re still homeless. Not that your home actually was here. Rephrase it then; you are now roof-less, shelter-less, and absolutely fucking clue-less.

“It wouldn't sit right with me if you slept outside and caught a cold or somethin'...” Ace says, and you swear you could almost catch a glimpse of the guilt on his face if he hadn’t turned away from you so quickly.

“What is it with you and posturin'?” Grim complains.

(You’d have to agree, Ace is a very duplicitous person.)

Deuce, being the sweetheart he is, pipes up, “We've talked with Housewarden Rosehearts. We can offer you a place safe from the elements if you don't mind sleeping in our four-man freshman dorm room.”

“You guys are gonna cram another two bodies into a crowded four-man room? What, does Heartslabyul not have any empty rooms?”

“Since nobody in our dorm ever drops out or gets held back, it's always at full capacity.”

It doesn’t sound awful. To be fair, you’ve seen the beds at Heartslabyul, and each one could likely fit two people each, with Grim barely counting as one body on his own. “I don’t mind. Thanks, guys,” you sigh and get back to packing your measly possessions into a large bag you’d borrowed from Jack, “who can I sleep with?”

“Really?” the wolf beastman raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think the guys back at Savanaclaw would mind if you stayed there. We have plenty of room, and they won’t say anything against it after the whole…spelldrive thing.”

You give him an awkward smile and a shrug. “It’s okay, Jack. I don’t think I’m very welcome there, so I’ll just bunk with Deuce for the night.”

“No problem, Y/N.”

“What?! I don’t want to be stuck with the cat!”

“I’m not a cat!”

You let out another sigh, “I meant bunking with Ace.”

The redhead doesn’t seem to have a problem with that statement.

(Though your heart might. Why is it beating so fast all of a sudden?)

The wind is cool on your trek to Heartslabyul; it’s a sobering feeling when your legs feel like jelly and your brain is nothing but pure mush. You feel drunk without a single sip of alcohol. You’re high with no drugs and really, there’s only one explanation for it—

Haha. No.

Your hands curl tighter around the strap of your bag.

This is necessary. That’s it. Your sleepover has no other meaning.

Trey welcomes you when you spot him in the kitchen on your way up the winding staircase to the boys’ dorm room, Grim already snoring with his head poking out of the duffle bag. You try your best to keep your steps quiet (and maybe that annoying pounding sound in your chest too), and as you reach the duo’s dorm room, you finally meet their roommates. One is some guy in your potionology class that you’ve talked to maybe twice, and the other is someone you could’ve sworn you’ve never even seen before in your life. “You’re here. I brought an extra blanket for Grim,” Deuce enters the room with a small, fluffy, rabbit-themed blanket.

“Oh,” you blink, “I knew I forgot something.”

“I don’t have any extra blankets. Guess you’re sleeping on the floor,” Ace laughs as he rolls around in his bed, wiggling his brows at you. Deuce throws a pillow at his face.

“Don’t worry prefect, I can lend you my—”

“Since I don’t have any extra blankets, I guess you can use mine. Just don’t get too close.”

You feel heat rising to your cheeks. You push it down as you carry Grim onto the little blanket atop Deuce’s bed. “Uh, right. I hope you don’t snore or kick or something,” you tease the redhead with a small smile.

(Ignore that Deuce offered you a blanket. Ignore the butterflies in your stomach.)

When you’re finally laid down next to him, you close your eyes almost immediately in a desperate attempt to fall asleep. Ace is…warm. He’s so annoying. But he radiates warmth in every way, almost from the soul. You pray that he’s dead asleep when you scoot closer to him, when you curl into his hoodie that smells like that one cologne that’s been overly popular in school lately. You hope he’s unconscious when you plop his arm to drape over you in the middle of the night.

Instead, your chin is tilted up to meet rose red eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Were you trying to cuddle?” he whispers, his breath hot on your skin.

You roll your eyes and quip back, “your breath smells like the dead.”

“Just admit you like me already.”

The smug tone in his voice makes you fake a gagging motion as you push him away, stealing the blanket and rolling yourself in it. “Shut up. Only an idiot would like you.”

He complains and tugs the blanket back towards him.

(You can’t fall asleep.)

(But to be honest, neither can he.)

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #ace x reader

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callofdudes · 1 year ago

Text

Don't go there.

Summary: When you and your friends take a summer trip out to the woods you are unaware of just what you've disturbed from it's slumber deep inside.

Cw: Serial Killer Simon, gore, blood, wounds, angst, death, childhood trauma. Mention of dissociation, abuse. Dark themes, animal death, Simon has a bit of a psychotic obsession over you in the end.

Word count: 6.8K+

A/N: Please don't let this flop, I spent way too much time staying up and writing this. So I do apologize for my dry-eye editing mistakes. I didn't want to super edit it all but I worked so hard on this. I was tempted to make the end kinky, but he just really, really likes chasing. Italics means a flashback/something in the past.

"How much longer until we get there??" You asked, looking out the window of the car, seeing the long road of trees. Stretching out for miles deep into the unknown where shadows lingered.

"Shouldn't be much longer." Your friend, Adam replied, checking the gas level in the truck.

You had stopped at a gas station nearly an hour ago. You had been going down this road for almost half an hour with nothing to see for miles.

Two of your other friends sat in the back, distracted by their boredom. You look in the rearview mirror, seeing them making out.

Crystal and Peter couldn't get off each other for five minutes... You had to be in the car with them. Why couldn't you have been with the others following in the car behind you?

You sigh softly in exhaustion, fixing your headphones again.

You all had taken up the opportunity for a summer job out at a camp for the extra money. Having just gotten out of school, you were looking for somewhere to start fresh, away from your parents' clings. And this felt right.

"Hey, looks like we've got something," Adam points out.

You look up, clicking off your phone to see the road split off. An old sign at the crossroads directs you down another road.

"That's the camp's name." You sit up, your whole body feeling relief that you are almost there.

"Thank goodness."

You looked at the backseat, leaning over to gently hit Peter. "Hey, stop it, there are others in the car you two."

"Sorry y/n."

Hah, you knew they weren't. At least you'd be at the camp soon...

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

You arrived at the camp, pulling up on the road to the large cabins just across from a lake spanning out into the thick forest grove.

You got out, stretching your limbs. Hands high above your head, yawning and working your legs.

"Finally."

You grabbed your bags from the car, meeting up with your other two friends Phillip and Stacy, pulling up in the car behind you.

"Geez, I'd have to make that trip every summer." Phillip fixed his hat, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.

"Well, hopefully, the drive back won't be as painful." You playfully glared at Peter and Crystal, taking your bags up the walk to the cabin lodge.

The warm late afternoon sun came through the trees, the breeze blowing softly across the open land. Seeing some of the other campers and counsellors wandering about.

The main office was where you met up with the head counsellor. He smiled upon seeing you. "Y/n, glad you made it."

"Thanks, it was quite the trip."

"Well, we're glad to have you here. Sign your name, and we'll get you all the keys to your cabins."

You nod, write down your name on the paper, and then take the cabin key from him, "Thanks!"

He nods, setting up your friends as well.

Taking your bags, you head down to your cabin. You walk through the main grounds, across the road and over to the thick backwooded area. You paused, looking out into the woods.

The trees were growing and darkening as you looked in, hiding the other side from what lay there.

You shook it off, heading to the cabin and unlocking it. You were sharing your room with Adam, two beds set up and a window at the back of the cabin wall as well.

"Not bad..." You muttered.

As you and Adam start to unpack, you couldn't help but feel a little excited about spending the summer here. The camp was beautiful, with its lake and surrounded by lush forest. It was going to be the perfect escape from the stress of school and family drama.

As you were unpacking, you noticed that Adam had left the cabin without saying anything. You shrugged, thinking he had gone to explore as well.

After organizing your clothes and items in the drawers, you grab your sunglasses and head out to explore the camp. The sun was setting, casting a beautiful golden hue on the entire area. You walked towards the lake, admiring the serene beauty of the water.

As you sit on the dock, dipping your feet in the water, you feel off. Feeling that weird sense that someone was watching you.

You looked out across the lake, attempting to spot anyone, but the forest looked all the same. You were startled a little when you heard footsteps approaching. You look up to see Adam walking towards you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Hey there," he says, sitting beside you on the dock. "Enjoying the view?"

You roll your eyes but can't help but laugh at his antics. "Yeah, it's beautiful."

"Well, I was talking with some others and we're setting up dinner for everyone, then it's swimsuit time~"

You scoffed, shoving him away. "We're to relax, not stick our pieces in random places."

"Oh, say you," He grinned, but you just shrugged him off.

"Meet you at the cabin then?"

You hummed in agreement, and Adam left you alone to join some of the others. You looked back out at the lake, sighing before getting up and following after him.

As you walk back towards the main grounds, you can't shake off the feeling of being watched. The shadows of the trees seemed to elongate and twist, as though they were reaching out to grab you. You shivered, feeling as though you were being watched by something lurking in the forest.

But you shook it off, reassuring yourself that it was just your imagination running wild in unfamiliar territory. You arrive at the campfire just as dinner is being served, the smell of grilled meat and vegetables making your mouth water. You grab a plate and sit down next to Philip, who was chatting animatedly with one of the other counsellors.

You laughed at the funny stories and jokes that were shared, feeling yourself relaxed for the first time in a long while.

But as the night wore on, the atmosphere changed. You noticed the people around you becoming louder, more intoxicated. The crude jokes turned into innuendos and the flirting became more aggressive.

Your typical night with a bunch of people barely older than the drinking age and taking it to their advantage to flirt with any young mind like themselves.

After dinner, you all head back to your cabins to change into your swimsuits. You grab your towel and head towards the lake, joining the others who are already swimming and playing around in the water. You dip your toes into the cool water and shiver slightly, but soon adjust to the temperature and join in the fun.

As you were swimming around, you suddenly felt someone grab your waist from behind. You gasp and turn around to see Adam, grinning cheekily at you. "Gotcha."

You continued to splash around in the water as the sunset. Across the dock, dark eyes stared into the stirring waters. Watching from behind the darkness of the tree line Peter and Crystal made out against one of the firm dock legs. Others laugh and touch too closely to not be called flirtatious.

Their laughter stung his ears. The sounds of shrill joy twisting his stomach in a way that made him angry. One more year where he'd have to do all the dirty work. Where these kids would have to learn.

He'd hear their screams and see the looks of horror on their faces. That's what he wanted.

He moved back into the shadows, slinking down the old house of a family doomed from the start...

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

"Simon! Get your ass down here right now you little shit!!"

"Hang on." The young boy looked in the mirror, whining as he fiddled with his belt, desperately pulling it and looping it back through. Shaky hands working hard when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

His father angrily pushed through the bathroom door, grabbing his wrist. "I said get over here. You're going to make us late again and I don't want your excuses."

Simon wriggled, whining again as he was pulled down the stairs.

His older brother sat with his bags on the couch, chuckling. "Hah, look who got caught with his pants down again." He smirked.

"Shut up Tommy!" Simon retorted, his father yanking him forward and slapping him across the face.

"He's right. Now you shut your mouth."

Simon looked over at his mother who remained quiet as the boys' father led them to the door, getting them into the car.

"If I hear any shit from your counsellors' I'm going to be through with you. You understand me!?"

Simon looked out the window, watching the trees blur by in a mess of green as they drove. He saw his brother look over at him and smirk.

"Don't be a pussy, Simon. You're going to love it."

Simon shook his head and looked away, thinking about all the wonderful things he could be doing if his brother was the one going away to camp.

Simon couldn't help but feel the knot of worry in his stomach. He wasn't looking forward to the summer camp, but his father threatened him with more than was needed to scare the young guy.

"Simon. Simon! What the fuck are you whining about?" His brother punched his arm, and Simon looked over at him.

"Nothing."

"Don't try to lie to me. I can hear it in your fucking voice."

"I'm just nervous is all."

"Yeah, about that..." Tommy laughed, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a small tin. "I got you something to take the edge off."

Simon looked at him, eyes wide. "What the fuck is that?" He asked, Tommy, grinning and popping open the lid, a snake popping out and making Simon jump.

"Tommy, stop!!"

Tommy laughed, tucking the fake snake away.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

The stairs of the old house creaked. He took it to the bathroom where the mirror took in his frame, eyes showing out from behind the skull mask he wore. Something he'd taken on after his brother's death.

He bent down, opening the sink drawer doors and grabbing his set of knives and his hatchet. Tracing his gloved fingers over the sharp edge, a twist of evil excitement stirred inside him.

Another year of spilling blood. All for himself.

You were back at your cabin at the end of the night, slipping into a sweater as the chill of the summer air set through the interior.

"What's up, y/n?" Adam asked as he noticed you staring out the window for the hundredth time.

"I don't know, I just have this weird feeling like we're being watched." You turn from the window to face him.

Adam let out a chuckle. "Don't tell me you believe in all those ghost stories they tell around the campfire?"

"No, it's not that. It's just a feeling. Nothing more." You tried to brush it off, but you were unconvinced.

"Yeah, but it can be fun to believe you know? Peace of mind." He offered his hand, and you took it.

Adam pulled you outside, and the two of you walked to the cabins beside yours.

"Do you believe in ghosts or spirits?" You asked, feeling a little braver around him.

"Not really. I've seen some crazy shit and it's hard to believe there's more out there. But why not? I'll believe anything if it's from you."

"You're uncontrollable."

"I know." He grinned but then stopped in his tracks. "Wait, hold up. What was that?"

You stop, cocking your head to the side to listen. "I don't hear anything."

"Shh. Listen."

You sit there for a tense moment, scanning the dark tree line, fists clenching in your pockets.

You listened closer, and what you heard was a heavy thumping from one of the cabins. You both seemed to exhale softly upon realizing it wasn't anything to be scared of.

"Whatever, I'm going to the bathroom." You kept walking, heading down the path to the bathrooms. Heading inside and flicking on the small light, locking the door.

Adam smirked, hearing you as you left down the path. He's been trying to get into your pants for months. And yet you brushed him off every time. He partly hoped that this time around, the summer camp and the alcohol will loosen you, literally.

He waits around for you to be done, looking out down toward the dock and the cool waters. Hearing footsteps behind him, he chuckled. "That was quick." He turned, facing someone who definitely wasn't you.

His eyes widened, looking up at the imposing figure.

The mask bore holes into his skin, the darkness hiding the grotesque glint in his eyes.

"Woah man, easy." Adam backed up, but it did little to save him as the large man's hand clasped tightly around his throat, his hatchet slashing into his abdomen.

He had to die first.

Adam's eyes went wide. He attempted to scream, heels digging into the dirt as the blade retracted from his stomach and he was dragged across the open grounds. Blood splattered from the torn skin and clothes onto the rocks and dirt. Dragged back into the woods, trying to scream or scramble for anything to help him.

"Help!" His words were mumbled and barely made it out as he was dragged back into the darkness behind the cabins. Thrust into a tree, the knife sinking back into his flesh. Adam choked, blood spilling from his mouth as the knife carved up through him. Blood splattered into the dirt and leaves.

His eyes stared upward; his face twisted in fright as the man began to brutal him with the knife. The blade tore into his flesh, slicing open as the man took his time to toy with the young man.

Adam's struggles weakened by the minute. Until the knife dug into his throat, and life escaped his body.

He dropped Adam, flicking the blood from his knife and tucked it back into his vest.

The man turned back to the cabin, the sound of footsteps approaching.

Adam was left slumped on the ground, blood oozing from his wounds.

The man slipped back behind the cabin, his hand grasping the hilt of his knife as he listened intently for your return.

You were coming out of the bathrooms, heading back to your cabin when you noticed Adam wasn't around. "Adam?" You looked around, watching the darkness. When you heard nothing, you shrugged. He probably just headed back to the cabin then. So, with that you headed back, but when you returned, still no Adam.

"Alright then."

You left the cabin door unlocked, just in case he'd take a while to get back. Setting up your bed and crawling in, flicking out your lamp. You lay in the darkness, snuggling into the bed and closing your eyes.

You listened to the sounds of the cricket outside and the occasional small rustle of a critter along the wilderness edge. Your breathing slows, exhaling softly as you feel yourself slipping away into sleep.

Footsteps crunch against the pebbled ground. You aren't entirely sure how long you've been asleep when you feel your eyelids fluttering open again. Not moving when you hear the heavy footfalls coming up the side of the cabin. They come around the front of the cabin, stopping at the door.

Silence.

"Adam?" You finally whisper, shifting a little in your bed, squinting into the darkness.

Still silent.

You sat up slowly, looking out the window to see if the coast was clear. You couldn't see anything. You listened for a few moments more, and when you still didn't hear anything, you laid back down.

You watched the door, your heart picking up in pace slightly. The door handle of the cabin finally twists. Your heart leaps as the door opens with an ominous creak.

The steps follow into the cabin, and in the moonlight, you can clearly see that the figure is not Adam.

Your heart spasms in your chest. Your body goes into freeze mode. You try to keep your breathing low in the darkness. The figure shifts its weight slightly, and you feel a pair of eyes on you. Whatever or whoever it was said nothing.

Boots moving across the cabin floor. You close your eyes, feeling fear overtake you when the person reaches your bedside. The glint of the moonlight revealed the sharp hatchet, yet your eyes were closed. Unaware of just what danger you were in.

The figure leans over, warm breath fanning from the mask, leaning down near your cheek, the blade caressing over the skin of your shoulder. You can't stop your whimper, feeling another hot puff of air against your skin, the tip of the blade digging into your shoulder.

You flinch, gasping. The figure stops, the blade drawing away from your skin. Your eyes finally open, wide with fear.

The figure is looming over you, and you can't make out their features in the dark, but the knife glints in the moonlight.

"Please." You whimpered. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Shhh..." The figure shushed, bringing the knife down slowly, trailing the cold metal across your exposed stomach.

Your bottom lip quivers, shying away, whimpering. "Please- Please I won't-" Your voice dies out with another small whimper as he toys with you. Your body is a nervous wreck.

The blade drags across your skin, slowly sinking into your flesh. Your body throbbing in pain, your eyes so wide that they sting.

You try to look down to see the blade, but the figure moves away, and your eyes follow the figure. You see the glint of the moonlight upon the blade as it comes into view. Your body is trembling violently, your skin stained with a light coating of sweat.

You're going to die. You're fully prepared for whatever is happening to end you.

"Oh, Crystal, come on!" You hear Peter's voice in the darkness. The thick silence pierced like shards of glass. Their breathing pauses, blade stilling against your skin.

"No! I told you not to look!" Crystal hollered back. You could hear her coming closer, walking down toward the docks probably.

The figure leans away from you. You feel your heart throbbing inside your chest. The blade leaves your skin, boots heavily walking back across the floorboards. You remain there, hearing the stride stop, eyes back on you. Then the door creaks shut, and the steps are moving away.

You exhale shakily, opening your eyes, half expecting him to still be there.

You thought he was going to kill you. And then it hit you. Crystal... He must have been going after one of them. You were about to rush out of bed on adrenaline, but the fear immediately had you lying back down. You couldn't move, pulling your blankets back up.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

It was morning when you got up, finding Adam not at the cabin. You were surprised. You thought he'd come back eventually, but it seems he'd disappeared. You tried to clear your head. Getting dressed and stepping outside to brush your teeth. You looked around, trying to see any signs of what had happened last night. But it seemed all was still. You spat into the dirt, shrugging on your camp sweater and headed over to the main cabin.

There you saw everyone, Peter sitting alone and looking a little bummed out. "Hey." You walked over, getting his attention. "Hey... sleep ok?"

"Yeah, you? Heard a scuffle last night."

Peter sighed, looking into his half-full cup of iced tea. "Found some old photos in a bag she brought with her... Her and her ex."

You cringed a little, but nodded, hearing him out.

"She stormed off and didn't come back last night."

"She did seem the type to be dramatic." You shrugged but gave him a side hug. "Look, it'll be alright. I'm sure she'll come back, and you can sort this out."

Breakfast was passed around and you slowly got to thinking about Crystal. She had no ride back unless she were to take Adam's car or Phil's truck... And where was Adam? Oh well... She was probably off brooding about how she would have to come back and apologize. She was always a tad dramatic for your type.

But the day shifted on, afternoon setting and you all headed to get changed into your swimsuits.

Grabbing your towel you headed outside to meet up with Phil who was chatting up one of the other male counsellors. He had that sly look in his eyes. You patted his arm, motioning him to go get it somewhere else and you headed for the dock.

Some others were already talking and breaking out the kayaks to take on the lake.

You once again sat down, dipping your toes into the water. You looked down into the water, noticing it seemed slightly darker than you remember. Playing it off to be the sunlight and you continued to gently swish your toes through.

One of the girls waved off as she pushed her kayak out into the lake. Rowing out a small bit enough that she comfortably floated along. Until her paddle hit something in the water, rippling up the lake.

You raised an eyebrow, looking down, noticing a chain tied to the leg of the dock. That hadn't been there the other day. The girl seemed to come to the same conclusion, pulling on the chain, something scraping along the bottom floor of the lake bed.

She grunted, pulling a little harder, one of the guys swimming out to steady the kayak.

You all watched as she pulled the chain up, struggling with it until finally. She screamed. You were startled, immediately pulling your feet out of the water. The girl dropped the chain and started desperately attempting to get out of the water and out of the kayak. There wasn't any mistaking her blonde hair, Crystal's body tied by the neck around the chain, her body gutted and hollowed so she'd sink.

You were horrified. Everyone was horrified. Peter and Phillip grab the chain and tug it, dragging her back to shore. They pulled her body onto the dock, seeing her lifeless eyes. The chain digging into her throat, stomach and chest completely hollowed out, her rib cage sticking up like fangs from her peeling, mutilated skin.

You backed up, hitting Phillip's arms. Covering your mouth as you saw what it was. Someone had murdered Crystal. And he was in your cabin last night. You hadn't imagined it.

Someone was hunting you...

"What do we do??" Phillip asked.

"We call the police!" Stacy cried.

"No! They'll shut us down. We'll be responsible."

"What if he comes after the rest of us?"

Your heart pounded a million miles an hour. What were you going to do!?

Some of the boys simply pushed her body back into the water. Vouching that they should just keep a lookout for anything that comes up. They wanted to make the rescue that it was probably just animals. Yeah, because animals were the ones to skillfully skin the organs and carve out around the sharp bone of her ribcage.

But no one could convince them otherwise, so you let it go. It still terrifies you, keeping an eye out as you walk the grounds. Every noise around you sounds like aggression.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

Dark eyes watched from the cabin door as Crystal stalked across the camp. Muttering angrily to herself, pulling her shirt fully on, and heading for the docks to get some fresh air. He watched her head down, footsteps following after her once she was far enough away.

The twisted sense of hunting prey filled his mind. Smelling the blood before it was spilt and the delicious scream he'd tear from her lungs.

She sat on the dock, huddled against the small sloshes of the lake against the dock legs. Staring out into the starry night. Footfalls make her brow wrinkle. "Peter, I told you to leave me alone."

He stared down at her, his hatchet glinting in the light, hand tightening on the blade in anticipation. He could almost get off to it. Grabbing her by the throat, hearing her gasp and choke, feet scraping against the wood of the dock. She tried to scream, grabbing his forearm, and looking up at him.

He stared down at her, eyes glimmering with excitement as he watched her thrash. A predator toying with its prey. She squirmed desperately, attempting to kick or bite her way out. Her nails dug into his forearm, drawing a light trickle of blood from his skin.

He frowned, gripping the hatchet and piercing it up through her back, the blade squelching through organs and blood, spilling across the dock and flicking into the cool water.

Her face was frozen in an endless scream, bloodletting out across the wood, falling limp after a moment.

He dropped her body, walked back up the dock and grabbed one of the boat chains from the grass. Unthreading it from the post, he came back over. He tied the chain around her throat, making sure it stayed.

The blade tore into her stomach and gutted her before picking up her organless body and throwing her into the lake. Blood seeps into the water like a bleeding-out animal. Like she'd just been mauled by a shark and was left as scraps.

Seeing blood flood and bubble along her flesh as she sank down to the bottom, the current moving her slightly, throat tugging on the chain that kept her secure to the dock.

He flicked out his blade, looking down at his forearm, wiping the blood from the scratches away. And he left silently.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

Simon stood at the edge of the tree line. His brother sneered from the porch, watching him investigate the noise that had rustled the bushes. He stood there, looking down at the small fox, blood splattered across the leaves, stomach torn open, caught in the barbed wire fence of the property and ultimately caught by whatever it had been running from.

Simon reached out to touch it but quickly pulled away and backed up. He walked back over to the porch, nose scrunching when he smelled the putrid smell of cigarette smoke from his brother.

"Go tell Dad, he'll want someone to pick the guts out of the fence." He sneers.

Simon kept his head down, heading inside where his father was muttering away angrily about his mother again, another bottle in his hand. Drinking it back while he went on and on over the phone.

Simon hesitantly went over to him, standing there patiently and waiting. His father noticed him and frowned angrily. "What do you want, boy!?"

Simon gulped, finding his voice. "There's a fox in the fence..."

"Is it dead?"

Simon nodded. "It's dead."

His father huffed, chugging back more alcohol. "Get the tools and go clean it then. You know what to do."

Simon felt his stomach twist painfully, digging under the sink in the kitchen to grab the gloves and cleaner, heading back outside onto the porch.

As he worked to remove the fox from the fence, Simon couldn't help but think about how much death he had been exposed to lately.

He finished cleaning the fence, but his mind was elsewhere.

As he buries the fox gently, Simon can't help but feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He knows that there are cruel people out there who are capable of senseless violence, and it makes him angry. He wants to do something, to make a difference, but he doesn't know how.

As he walked back towards the house, he heard his father's voice. "You know, Simon, you can't be a sissy your whole life. You gotta learn to face things head-on. That's what real men do."

Simon felt his blood boil with anger. His father had no idea what he had gone through, the trauma he had endured. And yet, he was still expected to be a "man". He was only twelve by that point.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

You sat around the fire with a blanket over your shoulders. The warm afternoon was rather quiet as you all attempted to get over what you'd seen earlier. Why the hell were you sitting here instead of calling the cops? Someone was murdered and you just had to be stuck with the people worried about the camp's reputation.

The boys continued to work, trying to forget about the corpse in the lake and the ramifications that would come with it. The girls all sat in the cabin, trying to distract the younger campers from the grim day.

Phillips came over, handing you a flask of scotch. "Drink this. It'll help."

You took it from him, looking away. "Why'd she have to die?"

"I don't know."

"Where's Peter?"

"He's outside, making s'mores with the other kids."

You nodded, taking a sip of the liquor. It warmed you up and you sighed in relief.

Phillips sat down beside you, looking like his mind was miles away. "You seen that prick, Adam?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Disappeared last night hasn't come back." Saying it out loud really solidifies it for you and Phil. Looking at each other, simultaneously coming to one conclusion.

He was probably dead too...

"We need to get the fuck out of here. We can take his car, leave and go get help."

You agreed, nodding your head. "Yeah, yeah. We should leave now."

Phil wasn't gonna fight it. He may like to do his own thing but the idea of getting killed wasn't on his MO. Not this pretty boy face, no, no.

So, you packed back up, Phil convincing Stacy to go back with you. With your bags, you loaded into Phil's truck. Some of the counsellors seemed a little upset at the idea of you leaving so early. Or going to the cops at all.

But you weren't going to sit there and wait to be next.

Within another hour or so you were all packed up and getting in the truck. Phil pulled you out of the road, clicking his tongue as he turned the truck around.

You stared out the window, looking at the trees and the stretch of empty road as if they were watching back. Mocking you, laughing.

It was silent for a large portion of the drive, your foot tapping along the car.

"What of the others?" Stacy asked from the backseat. "Their fault for being stupid. Although that one counsellor was pretty cute..."

You remain quiet, watching the road as you drive. Tires picking up down the road. You looked down at your phone, distracting yourself with one of your games, Phil eventually filling the silence with the sound of the radio.

The thick tension in the air was palpable through the drive.

There was a thunk under the truck. You looked up, eyes widening as Phil brought the truck to a stop.

"What was that?" You looked out the side mirror but couldn't see anything.

"It's probably some dumb rocks." Phil takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. "Phil-" You reached out for him, and he shrugged it off. "I'm just gonna check it."

He left the door open, heading back around the truck, seeing something lying in the road. A clump of fur stuck on the tread of his tire, a fox in the road.

Phil approached it, looking around. "Geez... talk about dumb." He mutters, spitting into the dirt and scuffing his shoe. Looked like there wasn't any damage done to his truck though. That's what mattered.

He bent down to look at the fox again, hearing footsteps. Just as he looked up the sharp glint of a blade glared into his eyes. His heart lurched, backing up as the blade retracted, swinging again.

Phil gasped, continuing to dodge and trying to move, the large skull-masked figure intending to strike good with the hatchet.

You heard the scrape and thunk when the blade hit the side of the truck, seeing the large figure.

"Phil!" You cried, Stacy getting out of the car before you could stop her.

Your eyes widened, seeing the figure. He dwarfed both Stacy and Phil.

How did he get out here!?

The figure turns towards Stacy, raising the hatchet. She screams, but before he can strike, Phil tackles the figure from behind, knocking him down onto the ground.

You quickly get out of the car, running towards them. "Phil, are you okay?!"

"I'm alright, but we need to get out of here!" Phil grabs your arm, pulling you back to the truck.

The figure stands up, body looming in the dim light. You get a good look at him now. He was wearing a skull mask, with the rest of his face hidden in shadow. He was wearing a black jacket with a hood, and black gloves. You couldn't see anything else.

He starts coming towards you, but Phil quickly gets back into the truck, starting its engine. You all drive away quickly, leaving the figure behind.

You're breathing heavily, heart pounding as you look out the back window. The figure is standing in the same spot, watching as you drive away.

"We're getting the police..." You whisper, unable to take your eyes off the man as he gets smaller in the mirror.

"Agreed," Phil says, continuing down the open road.

Ghost lifts his mask, putting a lit cigarette between his scarred lips, exhaling smoke out into the open road. Turning back toward the camp. He'd gone too far anyway, back to his stomping grounds.

He takes another drag of smoke, dropping the cigarette and shoving his heel into it.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

Tommy smeared the dirt with his shoe, exhaling the last of the smoke from his lungs, spitting into the freshly shuffled dirt.

Simon watched him, holding the shotgun his father had shoved in his arms. "Tommy-"

"Shut it. You'll scare 'em off." He looks around, scanning the forest grounds, into the darker parts of the trees and across the bushes.

"They always run back to where they think they're safe." Tommy picks up a rock and throws it at the lake. Birds stir in the water, flicking and scattering, some rushing back toward the trees.

Simon gulps, raising the shotgun, and aiming upward at one of the birds. He shot, missing the thing by a mile.

Tommy scoffs, shaking his head. "You're not gonna hit anything like that, kid."

Simon lowers the gun, feeling embarrassed. He had never shot a gun before, let alone at a moving target. "Sorry, I-I didn't mean to-"

Simon can feel his cheeks flushing. He hates it when Tommy treats him like a little kid. But he knows better than to argue. Tommy's been doing this for years, and Simon's only been brought into this recently.

"What are we even doing out here?" Simon asks, shifting the gun in his hands.

Tommy turns to him, squinting in the sunlight. "We're hunting, Simon. Hunting for something that's been bothering the camp for too damn long."

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

A couple days later you and the others returned. It was only you and Phil this time, along with a couple officers and a K9 unit. You'd been nervous about returning for the entire time up until finally going back.

Getting there you open the door, looking around. The camp was quiet, the trees still, bushes bristling as the breeze flowed steadily.

Some officers looked around, the K9 sniffing along the ground as you headed into the camp.

It was completely dead. Abandoned beer cans, a filled pool, and Kayaks still down at the beach unchained.

You latched onto Phil nervously as you followed the officers. Searching everywhere. The main office was empty, and cabins were abandoned. You gulped, the officers scratching their heads, but you knew it was too late. He had gotten to them.

"And what did you say he looked like again?"

"Tall- over six feet, skull mask, wore all black?"

The officer nodded, looking around. The K9's ears perked up, staring into the bushes. Barking into the darkness.

Your insides tensed up, watching the officer with the K9 move forward, others readying their guns in case.

You were shaking and your knees felt weak. the officer moved the K9 forward, waving it further in.

The K9 stopped, barking as it tugged on its leash. The officer stepped forward, pointing his gun into the woods.

The noise quieted, and the dog calmed down. The officer sighed, walking back over. "It's a deer. Want us to keep searching?"

You look around, sighing. "No, nobody's here. Nobody was here."

"Alright, well, we're going to be here for a while still. You can head back to town, we'll keep searching." The officer shrugged. You pocketed your hands, heading back to the car with Phil.

You get into the passenger seat; Phil leans forward and turns on the radio. You look in the rearview mirror and your body freezes. You look back, going cold in horror, a silent scream building in your throat. The hatchet reached up between the seats, grabbing Phil and choking him.

You attempt to tear the man off but he's too strong, blood slashing through Phil's throat as he angrily fights.

You finally manage to scream, getting the door open quickly getting out of the truck, your heart hammering in your chest. The figure turned towards you, his mask hiding any emotion he may have felt. You couldn't make out any details in the darkness, but you could tell that he was tall, muscular, and had a menacing aura about him.

Your feet carry you, thudding across the ground, the back door of the car opening and heavier footsteps following.

You try to call for help, bloody glove wrapping around your mouth, pulling you back, back pressed to the strong chest of a bloody killer.

You wanted to thrash but thought better, remaining still. His hand tightened over your mouth, leaning in so his warm breath fanned over your face. You whimpered, feeling weak, shaking as the edge of his weapon grazed your stomach. Tracing up your sternum, across your chest. Edge of the blade nipping your clothes.

You breathe in heavily through your nose, hands clasping on his forearm, wriggling around.

He enjoyed it. Seeing the pure fear in your eyes, watching you struggle and shake.

Your eyes water, looking into the bushes, knowing the officers were just right there...

He leaned closer to you, whispering into your ear, "Now, now." He was right up against your ear, breath hot and damp.

You try to kick him in the knee, but he's too strong. He grabs your leg, squeezing, bruising as he pulls it up, causing you to fall to your knees.

He moans in your ear, lips pulling into a smirk against the shell of your ear.

You gag, struggling, hearing the heavy thunk of his hatchet against the ground.

His hands were big enough to cover your face. One wrapped around your throat, the other on your mouth, thumb and fingers digging into the meat of your cheeks, squeezing.

Your hands scrambled against his arm, nails digging into his flesh as you desperately tried to claw him away.

There's barking and a sharp whine of the K9. You struggle, attempting to wriggle away as you hear the officers yelling. There's another loud bark, claws digging into the ground, the man letting you go.

You don't have a moment to think longer, taking off down the old road. The canine returns to Simon's side, a tussle of fur in her mouth, and he gives her the signal to wait. He smirks under the mask, watching you run as fast as you can. His stomach twisted in excitement. He couldn't wait to watch your blood spill…

He wants to watch the anguish before the pain. He wants to see your insides. Do they look as good as you do? He swings the blade wiping some of the blood off, running it along the white truck stopped along the road.

Tears fill your eyes, your heart pounding. Your legs shake as you run with everything you have in you. He could have just killed you, but you couldn’t give up. You had to get out. You had to run. You had to survive. This twisted game of cat and mouse, feeling the cats claws ready to sink into your tail and drag you back for a meal.

For now, you were prey, and he was predator.

(Please do let me know what you thought if you read this. I worked hard and haven't a true slasher fic before. I tried my best and want to give you guys more of this.)

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cheriladycl01 · 9 months ago

Text

Switching up on me - Esteban Ocon x Lawyer! Reader

Plot: Busy days using an underground train system you aren't familiar too is stressful enough with all the people and noises, but your day couldn't get any worse when you switch bags with the person you bumped into on the platform.

You were currently running around central Milan in a tizz, you were trying to find the underground station so you could make your way over to the building your client had sent through.

Usually your legal firm dealt with everything strictly in the UK, but this high profile client of yours was unable to make the travel from Italy to England. Your boss sent you off saying you'd have to meet him there to run through final things before you went to court. Everything was in a large duffle bag, all the private documents and confidential agreements and you were struggling holding it next to you.

Once you got into the subway system you placed the bag down next to you but close enough no-one would be able to steal from you. A gentleman came and stood next to you waiting for the next train that was supposed to come in about a minute.

What you didn't anticipate was Milan's sudden rush hour, some guy bumped into you making your trip over your bag. The guy who was next to you caught you and held you steady so you didn't fall onto the tunneled track.

"Thank you!" you smile up at him, and you guys continue to stare up at each other until the train comes into the station. People push their way off and the mystery man looks up at the train side and gasps when he notices it's his. He grabs his bag and jumps on while you watch in awe as the love of your life, your literal soulmate leaves the station on the train.

You wait knowing that one was heading out of the city and sit on a bench waiting for yours to come in.

You pick up the bag which feels slightly heavier than before but you don't think much off it. You get on the next tube which is luckily a lot quieter and manage to get a seat and have your bag on your lap. When you feel it, it feels a little odd, not as padded out in some areas as you remembered it being.

You slowly unzip the bag, seeing none of your things. No water bottle with turtle stickers, or university hoodie, no legal documents of your clients and no nice pair of heels you were supposed to put on before you got to the office after your train commute and small walk.

"No no no!" you whispers to yourself rummaging through finding a helmet, a suit and other various manly bits that weren't yours.

You then remembered the man on the platform and that you must have switched bags. You smiled at the thought that you guys had the exact same bags which just fueled your thoughts of the fact that the very attractive man that saved your life on the Milan underground was in fact your soulmate.

You get off at the next stop at a completely random place in Milan, where you see and advertisement for the F1 race in Monza. The guy must be something to do with that, he was heading that way and he had the helmet and race suit.

You pull out your phone and pull up your clients number before calling them.

"Hey Y/N!" they answer after one ring and immediately they sound a little guilty.

"Everything alright?" you ask.

"Well, you see somethings come up and I'm going to need to postpone everything until tomorrow and the day after, I'll pay for the flight for the inconvenience and your extra hotel expenses and you know what even through dinner on me tomorrow night. I'll take you to a nice place in Milan, but I'm so sorry I cant do it today!" she blurts out and a massive smile comes onto your face.

"That's no problem at all, I can er... do a little more research in the mean time and ... maybe explore the city!" you exclaim knowing you'd be heading on a tube straight for Monza.

"Ahhhh! Your a star I'm so glad the company sent you! I swear you are the only one I trust! But defiantly explore the city it's beautiful. I'll see you tomorrow babe but I really have to go! Okay goodbye!" she says before hanging up.

"You clutch the bag, looking around before you find your way to the nearest taxi service.

"Hello, could you take me to Monza? The er race track?" you ask having no idea if there was a specific name.

"130 euro!" he says and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the price.

"Yeah, that's fine!" you grit your teeth.

You are there in no-time jumping out after paying the driver and looking at the map to try and find the most sensible place to go. You assume the paddock where it leads to the garages makes the most sense.

However as you get there and see the security and the pass entrance you start to panic. You walk up to one of the security with a friendly smile on your face which was almost sheepish.

"Hi, this is going to sound so bizarre but I think I've switched bags with a driver and I have their helmet and race suit. Can I get in to hand it back to him please and to get my bag back?" you ask and he laughs.

"Yeah sod off kid!" he laughs the one next to him joining in.

"No I'm being series look!" you say unzipping the bag. They look at it and look between each other.

"Radio it through to alpine" one of the says before walking off through the entrance. You awkwardly stand there waiting for someone to say anything.

"I've been told to bring her through!" the one on the walky talky says letting you go through. He walks with you until you come up to one place that has a big picture of the man you met in the subway.

"Esteban?" you ask pointing to his picture and the security guard nods.

"Apparently he went out to look for you, he's been called by his team to come back as you are here!" he smiles before walking off towards the front. Someone comes running out the front in team gear smiling at you.

"Hey, come with me can we get you anything to drink. You can wait in Esteban's driver room!" he smiles and you politely decline a drink, placing yourself on the sofa and waiting patiently.

"Hey!" a voice interrupts you from scrolling on your phone.

"Hey, I erm think I have something of yours!" you grin, holding up the bag and he sighs seeing his bag the exact colour and model that yours was.

"Thank god! That bag has my life in it!" he cries.

"I think i would have been fired if I actually lost mine!" you admit.

"Yeah, I just want you to know the minute I saw confidential i didn't look through anything. I only found the key card to your hotel room, that's where I was heading to in hopes you'd gone there to try make some calls.

"I worked out you must be a driver and that you'd probably be in dire need so i came straight here!" you smile and he nods.

"Well thank you for delivering the goods!" he smiles handing over your bag. You smile and thank him, before hesitating to exit the room. However you do with a sad sort of smile, knowing you'd probably never see him again.

"Wait!" a voice shouts making your turn round and you see Esteban stood there.

"Can I please have your number, or take you out to dinner as a thank you?" he asks looking over you, trying to get a read.

"Really?" you grin, not expecting him to have asked.

"Well, I think it's sort of fate right?" he asks with a little sly grin on his face.

"Yeah, I guess you're right!" you grin.

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #esteban ocon #estie bestie #esteban ocon x reader #esteban ocon imagine #esteban ocon x you #esteban ocon x y/n #esteban ocon fanfic #eo31

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mandiemegatron · 1 year ago

Text

ʟᴏꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀ

ᴱᵘˢᵗᵃˢˢ ᴷⁱᵈ ˣ ᶜᶦˢ!ᶠᵉᵐ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ: ꜱᴀᴅ. ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐀 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥!! 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 🤭🤭💖💖💖💖 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 - 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐋𝐌𝐅𝐀𝐎𝐎 😭😭😭😂😂😂 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒! 𝐀 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞!!

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐨, 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧! 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞! 🤭💖

Header by ; @buggyandthebartoclub ♡

One year, three months and fourteen days.

Shaking, furious hands pushed clothing and important items into a duffle bag, heart broken tears streaming down your face as you bit back sobs of anger.

One year, three months and fourteen days.

You could feel Killers eyes staring into your barely contained, rage filled form, smartly staying silent as he watched you pack. After a few moments though, he gently sighed out,

“... I won't make excuses for him.”

You almost snarled at him as you whipped around, the expression on your face causing the long haired man to take a step back in caution. He held his hands up as a white flag, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your wrath.

“Then don't.”

One year, three months and fourteen days.

You tried to block out everything as you walked past Killer, slinging the large bag over your shoulder easily. You broke into silent, angry tears again as you walked past the Captains door, unable to unhear the sounds of pleasure that rang out from inside.

Your heart shattered just a little more as another woman's voice called out his name, causing you to kick his door in a rush of rage before you stomped upstairs and out onto the deck of the Victoria.

Walking past a confused Wire and Heat, the two men sharing a joint and a look with each other as they watched you hop off the ship and onto dry land, surprised you wouldn't even look back when they called your name.

One year, three months and fourteen days.

The first tavern you came across, you walked in with your head down and sat at the bar. You grabbed a couple beris from your pocket and sighed a thanks as the bartender slid you a beer, an almost pitied look on his face.

“You alright, girlie?”

You frowned and sighed for a moment before giving him a slow nod, taking a long glup from the glass before asking,

“You know if any place near here has any rooms for overnight stays? I'm lookin’ to stay on dry land for a while.”

He hummed to himself before calling out a name. A soft, older woman came around from the back, a confused look on her face as the man repeated your question to her in another language. She then nodded and spoke softly to him, throwing you a gentle look before motioning for you to follow her.

“She'll getcha set up. You'll be alright here.”

You gave the man a grateful nod, chugging back the rest of your beer before tossing a few extra beri on the counter for him, and enough for a few nights stay in the room.

“I'm truly thankful.”

You slid off the stool and went to follow the woman, only stopping for a moment to throw over your shoulder,

“If anyone asks, you never saw me.”

The man laughed and replied, “Saw who?” before going back to wiping down the counter. You nodded to yourself with a small smile before following the woman up a set of stairs hidden behind a barely noticeable wooden door.

You must have looked confused because a soft voice came from the woman as she explained,

“You not the first. You not the last.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as tears stung your eyes. You didn't like how she read you a little too well.

Opening the last door on the left, she led you into a cozy but warm room, fitted with a single bed, a fireplace, a table and chair and a small bathtub in the far corner.

“You be safe here.”

She sat you down on the bed, letting your bag drop to the floor with a dull thud. Lifting your face in her aged palms, she gently moved your face from left to right before giving a soft nod. Reaching into one of her apron pockets, she placed a small vial into your hand with a gentle smile.

“Put in bath. You sleep.”

You sniffled and nodded as you replied softly,

“Thank you so much.”

She nodded again and patted your head with a chuckle before moving away from you, humming to herself and she shut the door behind her. The second the door shut, you broke down, your heart shattering into tiny pieces in your chest.

You lifted the pillow to your face and screamed into it, sobbing and wailing into the fabric, thankful for the muffled music and chatter going on downstairs. You hoped no one could hear how loud your heart was breaking.

One year, three months and fourteen days.

That was how long you were worth something to Eustass Kid.

It felt like hours had passed, spent sobbing into the warm pillow until your eyes burned and your throat was sore. The chatter had gotten louder but at this point, you didn't care. You were sure no sleep would come to you tonight.

“Y/N!”

You frowned as the muffled sound of your name met your ears, Eustass’ furious voice shattering through the night like a gun brought to a knife fight. You curled into yourself, pressing your form into the corner of the bed as your name rattled off the small window.

“Damn it, Y/N! Answer me!”

You pressed your palms to your ears with eyes squeezed shut, fighting back the urge to call for him; for him to collect you into his arms, for him to apologize and tell you that you're the only one he needed-

Only silence.

You sobbed tearlessly, ignoring the way your heart lurched into your throat, the feeling of nausea washing over you like a rogue wave.

You hated this.

You hated him.

You waited for what, again, felt like hours. Your name never hit your ears again after that, even as the sun rose above the buildings and trees and filled your room with a gentle warmth. You didn't dare move from your spot, almost frozen in despair, even as night fell once again.

For three days, you only moved to use the washroom across the hall, almost sprinting back into your room, worried someone would spot you. Anxiety crept over you like a sticky blanket, stinking to your skin and making you feel like you were stuck in mud. You slowly munched on whatever food you'd grabbed from the Victoria on your way out, your meager meal lasting you longer than you thought.

“I hope this works,” you moan to yourself as you filled the bath, a lazy hand creating ripples over the top of the water. Your other hand tipped the small vial into the bath, the scent of rosemary, lavender and peaches filling your senses. You sighed softly, a small smile washing over your face for the first time in ages.

You quickly stripped and settled in, throwing a quick glance at the door to make sure the chair was stuck under the knob. No one was getting in without you knowing.

Taking a deep breath, you sunk under the steaming water and stayed under, letting the fragrant water cover you entirely. Your mind was blank, empty as you counted in your head until your lungs began to burn.

You resurfaced with a gasp, a shaky hand pushing back soaked hair from your face and you groaned softly to yourself as a warmth flooded over your insides. You rested in the tub until the water got cold, only removing your depressed and exhausted form from the tub once night fell once more.

Dressed in simple pajamas, you sat in front of the fireplace with your blanket wrapped around you. A half eaten apple sat beside you with a glass of water, the last of your food from the ship filling you with sadness more than satiating your hunger.

You huffed to yourself and wrapped your arms around your legs, your chin resting on your knees as you watched the fire crackle and pop. Strangely, your mind was empty, no raging thoughts running rampant or suffocating you into tears. While the change was welcome, you were almost terrified of falling asleep only to wake up back on the ship.

Slowly, you removed your covered body from the floor to glance out the window towards the port from the side, the blanket covering your head to obscure most of your face just in case anyone from the ship was looking for you.

Your heart dropped through the floor when you saw the empty port, the Victoria Punk gone from sight.

You let the blanket fell from your grasp as bitter tears filled your eyes, your mouth falling open in a silent wail as you fell to the ground, your cold palms pressing into your face as you sobbed. The sound of patrons partying downstairs overtook the sound of your heart shattering.

Your exhausted body fell to the side, your eyes rolling back as the shock took over, knocking you out cold. Your head bounced off the wooden floor as you hit it, your form sprawled out almost carelessly.

It was four days before you woke up again.

Bright lights pierced through your eyelids to the point it pulled you from the darkness. You breathed out a low groan, a tired hand moving up to rub at your face as your eyes slowly blinked open. Your gaze met metal, then hospital equipment. It moved over the slate metal room with confusion, taking in the room slowly.

You slowly sat up with a grunt, wincing as you gently grasped the left side of your head with a slightly shaky hand. Your fingertips met soft bandages and you couldn't stop the confused “Huh?” that escaped your lips.

“I wouldn't move too much.”

You jumped at the low voice, turning your head too quickly and giving yourself whiplash. You groaned again and held your head in both hands, breathing through your nose softly to fight back the nausea that rose in the back of your throat.

“Tsk,”

Two soft but firm hands gripped your shoulders and gently began to push you back down into the bed. You pulled your hands away and your brows furrowed as your eyes met two bright amber eyes, soft, sun-kissed skin and a spotted hat.

“Are you deaf? I just said-”

“Who are you?”

The man paused at your question, taking your face in before resuming in moving you to lay back down. You allowed him to move you, your eyes still confused and wary even as he moved back a little.

“I'm … a doctor.”

When you rose a suspicious eyebrow, he stood a little straighter with a thin-lipped frown, almost glaring down at you as he continued,

“I saved your life. The least you could do is say ‘thank you’.”

You sighed through your nose and gave him a slight nod, barely getting out,

“Thank you.”

He huffed and crossed his arms, running a tattooed hand over his scruff before he asked,

“Are you a pirate? Your belongings tell me you belong to a crew, but I'd like to make sure.”

Tears sprung to your eyes and you looked away, glaring up at the metal ceiling as you bit out,

“I thought I was, once.”

The tattooed man shifted on his feet, his gaze never leaving you as he questioned,

“What's that supposed to mean?”

You scoffed with a bitter laugh before you retorted with a snark,

“Let's just say Eustass Kid is a fucking twat.”

The man paused again before a wide grin cracked his face, the expression almost unfitting on his face as he suddenly began to laugh. You whipped your head to the side to stare at him, your teary eyes wide and confused as you barked out,

“What's so goddamn funny?!”

The man cackled to himself, a hand covering his face as he chuckled into his palm. It took a moment, but once he composed himself, he snarked back in a mocking tone,

“I could have told you that.”

You flinched at his words, blinking back angry tears as you glared back up at the ceiling. The man then sighed heavily, moving closer to the bed before leaning over you so you were face to face.

“Seems to me that I have a perfect way for you to repay your debt.”

An almost cocky, thrilled look washed over the man's face as he leaned back with a comment of,

“My name is Trafalgar Law, and you are on my ship.”

Your blood turned to ice.

You'd heard Eustass talk shit about this guy many times, how he was psycho and would rip up his opponents in a flash and without remorse.

The Surgeon of Death.

You steeled your expression and bit back in a returning mocking tone,

“I'm not scared of you, Captain.”

Law grinned devilishly down at you as he nearly purred out,

“Oh darling, you should be.”

“Are you sure-”

“Stop fucking asking me that goddamn question, Kil.”

Killer bristled at Kid's tone, glaring at his captain from behind his mask. Large arms crossed over an even larger chest, an air of worry and anger danced around the First Mate, unable to stop thinking about if you were safe or not.

“... She made her fucking choice.”

Killer frowned, sighing to himself as he shook his head slightly.

“I think you made it for her.”

The blonde man knew he hit a nerve when his best friend didn't respond. Killer turned his head to glance at Kid and he sighed again when the red head didn't move.

Eustass Kid simply glared forward, his gaze dark and heart heavy as he locked it back up, feeling like a goddamn fool for thinking you'd stick around. Kid knew he made some stupid mistakes but this one cost him dearly.

It was a long while before Eustass spoke again, the only words the man could mutter out fell on deaf ears on the silent and empty deck.

“... I think I fucked up, Y/N.”

Eustass leaned back in his chair with a deep-set frown, flesh and metal arm crossed over each other as he stared out at the glassy sea.

It was a few days before he spoke again, demanding everyone on board forget your name. Anything you left behind was thrown overboard, sinking to the bottom of the sea without a second thought.

After that, it was like you had never lived on the Victoria in the first place.

Though, some nights, if anyone crept into Kid's room quietly enough, they'd find him tossing and turning, one of your shirts tightly gripped in his large hand. It stopped smelling like you ages ago, but Kid couldn't find it in him to part with it.

There was more than one war going on within Eustass Kid's life, though this one, he'd have to fight on his own.

And everytime he woke up to an empty bed, he knew…

He had lost.

#mandies mumbles ; fanfics #one piece #eustass kid op #Eustass Kid #kid x reader #eustass kid #eustass x reader #op kid #angst #one piece fic #ok to rb #😈😈😈😈😈 MWAHAHA #i love turning my own inner pain into writing 😈😈😈😈#FEEL THE AGONY EUSTASS

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ohbo-ohno · 1 year ago

Note

🗑️ Creep Johnny this, creep Johnny that. What I want is a creepy Simon. Like he just walks up to Johnny and is like "I think you buy a new couch" and soaps like wtf are you talking about? And when he's on leave he gets home and sure enough his couch has a broken spring.

Simon sends him the exact amount of money he needs to purchase the couch he was JUST looking at on his laptop- since when did simon get his personal address? Or his bank info????

Then Simon just starts. Saying the weirdest shit. Like "the freckles on your taint are cute." Like what??? Not even going to pretend to NOT be looking? And sometimes he'll comment about Johnny wearing less boxer briefs on missions (how does he know it's not like Johnny strips to his underwear and shows off to his l.t. so how does the man know?) Or how he doesn't like Johnny's shower curtains.

And then Simon sends him a selfie (mask on ofc) of himself half naked in Johnny's home bathroom while the man himself is still on base.

And then shit just gets downright strange. He'll come home from base, and find that half his clothes are stuffed into one side of his closet, the other half filled with shit too large for him to wear, smelling like his lieutenant. There's extra toothbrushes, trinkets lying around, food he doesn't usually like in his fridge.

And then the next day Simon walks in with his duffle bag filled with his stuff and acts like they've been living together forever??? His name is somehow also on their lease??

He tries to talk to his family about it but they're all like "Oh, Simon? That nice fellow who visited us while you were deployed? He mentioned being your boyfriend, he was such a nice fellow."

And Johnny just has to live with it. Because he suddenly got saddled with a giant buff boyfriend who he kinda had a crush on so is it really THAT bad?? In the grand scheme of things, Simon could have been A LOT worse, knowing that freak of nature.🗑️

ghost harassing and violating soap will ALWAYS be famous

there have GOT to be a million fics with this general plot and trashy i would LOVE to recommend them to you but unfortunately i am woefully naive to the ghoap fanfictions of ao3. someone send recs

i love ALL OF THIS & im going to add some of my own thoughts but i'm not like. changing your idea lol (btw i love when you said "then it gets strange" as if the first part wasnt strange lmao)

i looove the idea of everyone else on base being super uncomfortable around ghost but not helping johnny out at all with his very obvious obsession because they're just like "better you than me buddy". they're in a large meeting and ghost literally lifts johnny off of his own chair and sets him in his lap, tucks a hand up under his shirt and gropes his pec, and literally everyone is just like "doo doo doo... nothing happening over there..."

im also obsessed with the idea of ghost not even TRYING to act like he's not stalking soap. he's loud and proud about using johnny's toothbrush after him for just a TASTE of his boy. he's jacking off in soap's shampoo and will mention it in front of other people. ghost will look soap dead in the eyes and say "washed your laundry yet? don't. i want your boxers for tonight" and just WALK AWAY

alssososooooooooo ghost moving into soap's house without asking!??!?!? are you insane!?!??!?!!? just absolutely refuses to leave, doesn't understand why soap's so angry, refuses to acknowledge his discomfort. will kick johnny out of his own bed when he starts being too bad :/ starts changing things to his own preference, just scoffs and rolls his eyes when johnny complains

#asks and answers #🗑️ anon #ghoap

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bingbongsupremacy · 1 year ago

Text

Camp Hawkins AU

Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus sized reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N. This is my first time writing a plus size reader oneshot. As a plus sized person myself, I wanted to try it. I'm a little nervous tho. I know some people don't like it when ppl write insecure plus sized reader stories. I just feel like when I write, I put my emotions and my insecurities into the character as a way to work through them. I'm working on my confidence and some time I will write x confident!plus size reader oneshots, just not right now. Anyways, I hope you can understand that, and if you don't maybe try another story. Thank you.

P.S. I don't know how tf to flirt.

The story doesn't mention a lot about being plus sized but it is there.

Summary: It's your third year being a camp counselor at Camp Hawkins and your 7th year knowing Steve. Every year your crush seems to grow stronger and stronger.

*Not Proof Read*

ABC List Stranger Things Masterlist

*****

" Bunk 23. " Eddie, one of the head counselors grins while handing me a set of keys.

I groan. " The bunk with the bats? Eds, are you serious. "

Last year a bat nest was found in the corner of one of the old wooden beds. Nobody had checked the cabin before letting campers and counselors inside, resulting in a nasty surprise halfway through the first week.

Eddie shrugs. " Sorry, kid. I don't assign the bunks, I just tell people where to go. " Eddie's eyes shift over my shoulder. " Steve! There ya are, my boy. Long time no see. What's going on? "

I feel my annoyance begin to melt away as the sound of boots makes its way towards us. It's quickly replaced with a flutter type feeling in my stomach, a feeling that's been stuck with me for the past seven years.

I turn to look at the cause of my emotions.

Steve grins at the man behind me. A large leather duffle bag hangs off of his left shoulder. In his right hand, a small rolling suitcase, the same grayish color as his coat, squeaks along. The same two bags he's used since I met him. Steve pulls off his glasses, sending a dazzling smile towards Eddie and I. " Same old, same old, Ed. Hi, Y/N. "

His grin sends waves of happiness flooding through my body. I love the way he says my name.

I do my best to keep my composure. I return the smile, adding in a small wave as well. " Hey, Steve. "

" So what's this I hear about you and Nancy? A little birdy tells me you're back together again. " Eddie asks, leaning against the desk in front of him.

Nancy and Steve. The always on and off high school sweethearts.

I have no shot with Steve. I mean, he's obviously still head over heels for her if he keeps going back to her. I guess deep down I hope he'll finally see me as someone other than his chubby fellow camp counselor.

Picking up my heavy bags, I excuse myself from the conversation. " Hey, I'll catch you guys later. I'm gonna go check out the cabin, make sure no bats are hanging around. "

" Do you need help with your bags? They look a little heavy. " Steve offers, moving to set his stuff down on the ground.

He's so sweet. He always have been. No wonder I have a huge crush on him.

" No, " I shake my head. " I've got it. It's not to far. " I smile.

" But Bunk 23's on the other side of the-" Eddie begins.

I interrupt him. " I'm probably going to stop at the dining hall and see if Robin's there yet anyways. I'll be okay. " I reassure them.

" Oh, okay. " Steve nods, glancing down at the heaviest duffle bag I have.

I'm definitely regretting packing extra crafts. I just didn't want any of the kids to get bored during free time.

" Cya guys. " I shuffle towards the door. The floor creaks beneath me as I walk out onto the main cabins' porch.

Maybe some day I'll mean more to Steve Harrington.

_____

" He literally offered to help you. Why didn't you take him up on that? " Robin groans in frustration. Strands of hair that slipped out of her hat frame her flour splotched face. Bits of dough and other mysterious stains cover the front of her apron, making it look like a doughy murder scene.

She leans on the serving window counter, her arms cradling her head.

" He was just being nice. I mean, if I saw you carrying heavy bags of flour, I'd offer to help you. It's something everyone does- be nice to the people you know. It doesn't mean they like you. " I argue. I fidget with the lid of my water bottle.

" That's different. "

I narrow my eyes at the woman. " How is that different? "

Robin lets out an annoyed grunt. " You and me, " She points to the two of us. " have no chemistry. You and Steve on the other hand..." She waggles her eyebrows, sending a warm feeling climbing up my face.

I roll my eyes.

" Have a fuck ton of chemistry. Like sometimes I feel like it's choking me. " She makes a pretend choking sound. " Please! Y/N! Steve! Just make out already. Please, for the love of god! Save me! Save humanity from the horrors of watching you two interact while denying your feelings! "

I gently hit her forearm. " Shut up. That's not true, literally shut the fuck up. " I mutter.

Robin laughs. " It's so true. Ask literally anyone that hangs around you guys. Why do you think Nancy and Steve keep breaking up? "

That can't be true. Relationships have issues. There's no way in hell Steve and Nancy keep breaking up because he likes me. That's...insane.

" Your a catch, y/n. You need to start realizing that. People-they have crushes on you too. "

I turn my head to meet Robins gaze.

" You're not the only person in the world who doesn't have someone attracted to them. I mean, if fucking Mike Wheeler can have a girl crushing on him, so can you. "

It's just hard for me to believe someone like Steve, Ex Captain of the Hawkins basketball team, could like someone like me. I'm pretty sure he's only ever seen me as a friend. All these years, transitioning from campers to counselors, he's never made a move on me. In all fairness, I haven't exactly made a move on him either...in my defense, Steve and Nancy are on and off so much, a flickering light bulb has more predictability.

This is all so confusing.

-----

" Welcome campers! " A loud voice booms from on the old cement stage.

Slowly chatter from the excited campers begin to die down.

Jim Hopper, a retired sheriff and the new owner of Camp Hawkins, begins to speak again. " We're so excited to have you here. Each of you have been assigned a bunk and a counselor... " Jim's voice begins to fade from my mind. The same words have been repeated year after year, not that I mind. It's a familiar introductory speech, something I know will never change.

I look behind the older man. The gorgeous quarry shines from the sunlight. Post card worthy.

" You're bunk 23, right? " Steve's voice asks from next to me.

I was so lost in thought I hadn't noticed he took a seat next to me.

I send him a smile. " Yeah, The bat bunk. " I mumble.

Steve grins. " I'm bunk 24. "

" Oh nice, I guess we'll be seeing each other a lot then. Well, " Stupid, the kids do basically everything together. You're going to see him a ton anyways. " More than usual I guess. "

Steve chuckles slightly. A sound that sends waves tumbling through my insides. " I don't mind. You're good company. "

I feel a familiar warmth sprawl across my face. " You're not so bad yourself, Harrington. "

A look of amusement finds its' way onto Steve's face. " Hey, I know you're not a huge fan of bats...or other flying creatures, " He references my first year here as a camper.

I let out a groan at the embarrassing memory. " That was so long ago. The bird literally came out of nowhere. " I vividly remember that morning. It was still dark when Steve and our friends got the bright idea to go check out the quarry. A bird flew out of one of the nearby bushes, nearly smacking into my face.

Steve laughs, his milky brown eyes glinting from the sunlight. " Hey, birds can be terrifying. I'm not judging you. " He holds up his hands in a playful surrender. " I was just saying, if you want, I can come over to your bunk and check it out. Make sure no flying surprises are hidden anywhere. " He offers, leaning forward slightly in his seat.

My heart flutters. God, he's so sweet. " I don't want to inconvenience you, I mean, it's probably fine. I doubt the bats returned. "

" Really, I don't mind. It's not an inconvenience, if anything, I'm doing this for my bunk. I mean, I don't really feel like waking up to a bunch of people screaming at 3 in the morning. "

My eyebrow raises. " Oh? So you're doing this for you then...for your interests. "

Steve tilts his head slightly. " I guess you could say that. "

The campers around us begin to gather up their bags, making their way towards Eddie and Jonathan who have lists of where everyone's supposed to go.

Steve stands up, extending a hand towards me. " So what do you say, Y/N. Do you want Pest Control Steve to come take a look at your bunk? "

I cringe at his stupid name, causing him to laugh.

" Only if you never call yourself that again. " I accept his hand, standing up from the cement row.

Steve's hand firmly holds onto mine for a few seconds longer after we've stood up.

From over his shoulder Robin catches my eye. Her eyes flicker between our hands and back to my eyes. She mouths a silent ' He fucking likes you ', which I ignore.

I release Steve's hand, shoving mine into my pocket.

For a moment, a flicker of confusion? Maybe disappointment flashes across Steve's features. He obviously ignores it, moving to fold his arms across his chest. " Deal. "

I smile at the man. " Deal. "

I look at him for a second longer before I'm quickly swept away by the campers in my bunk.

My mind analyzes our conversation over and over again, completely ignoring whatever Eleven is telling me while we walk back to our bunk.

He couldn't like me. Right?

_______

" I think you guys are clear. " Steve says, poking his head back out from under the last bunk. He glances up at the top of the bunk, making sure there's nothing hidden in the corners.

" Thank you so much, Pest Control Steve, what would I ever do without you? " I cringe slightly at my words, shaking my head. " You know what, never mind. I thought it would be funny but no. "

Steve laughs at my attempt at mockery. " You'd live in uncertainty. " He makes his way towards me, leaning against the open door frame.

Outside the kids are running around playing capture the flag, their yells echoing slightly around the bunk.

" Sure...I'd probably just get Eddie or Jim to look around. You know how much they love me. "

Steve slightly leans towards me. " They wouldn't check as well as I do. I do have a five star rating in customer service. " His voice is soft but teasing.

My eyes flicker down to his lips.

He's so close. Just a few inches away. If I wanted to, I could kiss him.

I do want to...

But I can't.

What if him and Nancy are still dating?

Fuck, I should've stuck around and waited to hear what he had to say about their relationship.

" Y/n! El got another bloody nose! " Dustin's voice suddenly shouts.

My head snaps towards the direction of the boy. His face goes from worried to grinning in a matter of seconds.

" Wait, " He looks between Steve and I.

Without waiting for him to finish, I snatch a roll of paper towels from the desk near the door. I hurry out of the bunk, leaving the two guys behind.

" Oh my god, Dustin... " Steve's voice groans.

" Were you guys about to..." Dustins' voice fades away as I make my ways towards a group of kids. I push past them, kneeling in front of El.

Perfect timing.

-----

The dining hall is bursting with noise. Kids sit together, eagerly talking about their first day back at camp.

I grab a plate and nervously head into the kitchen.

Food. My least favorite part of the day. I don't know if it's just the fear or people watching me eat or the possibility of someone making fun of me for eating too much. I should be used to it by now, I've eating around people for my entire life, but I'm not.

Every meal time still brings unnecessary anxiety.

Robin leans against one of the walls, a iced drink in her left hand. As she raises the glass to take a sip, droplets of condensation run down her arm. " About time you showed up. I basically had to threaten Eddie with a knife for him to back away from your portion of chicken tenders. He does not go down without a fight, I'll tell you that. " She chuckles.

" Thanks. " I begin putting some food onto my plate.

There's a moment of silence. " So. " Robin looks at me expectantly.

" So? " I ask, confused. I lean against the counter across from her. The counter hidden from the view of the dining hall.

Robin rolls her eyes. " Aren't you going to tell me about it? "

" What are you talking about, Robin? "

Robin lets out a sigh of annoyance. " Oh my god, Y/N. The kiss! "

Still lost, I set my food down. " What kiss? "

Finally, Robin blurts it out. " Dustin told me he saw you and Steve making out in your bunk. "

My eyes widen. " What? No. Robin, we weren't making out, that little..." I shake my head. " Steve and I were talking. Just talking. "

Robin raises an eyebrow. " Are you sure, Y/N, I'm your best friend. You can literally tell me anything-you literally have told me basically everything. "

" Robin, I swear. If anything were to happen, you'd be the first to know. Steve and I didn't do anything. "

" Doesn't mean something won't happen in the future though. " Robin smirks.

I roll my eyes. " He has a girlfriend, Robin. I'm not making a move on a taken guy. "

" They'll probably be on break by the end of the month. "

I pick up my plate again. " I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't get myself wrapped up into that. I mean, they'll probably eventually get back together. I don't want to be a rebound or something. "

Robin hops onto the counter, taking a seat in the empty space. " Steve's not like that. "

Yeah, he doesn't seem like the type of guy to do that. But, hey, maybe I don't know him as well as I think I do.

" So Dustin's going around telling everyone? " I say in discomfort. Even if we had kissed, I don't want everyone to know.

Robin shakes her head. Her hair is finally free from her hat. " Fuck no. I was the first person he saw and the first person he told. I told him I'd feed him to everyone for dinner if he says anything to anyone. " She lets out a small laugh. " Scared him shitless. "

I shake my head. " Of course you did, Rob. "

_____

The moon reflects off the quarry beautifully. Finally, there's bit of quiet. All of the campers are huddled together in the dining hall, playing random board games.

Their voices and music fade away as I walk closer to the water. I love being a counselor, but it definitely gets overwhelming at time. I look forward to going down to the Quarry every night, just for a little bit to clear my head.

As I get closer to the waters' edge, hear a twig snap. I snap towards my right side, the direction the sound came from.

A familiar jacket catches my eye.

Hanging over a nearby log, the sleeve of Steve's jacket shines in in the moonlight.

" Fuck, I'm sorry. " I blurt out as soon as I see the pair. On top of the jacket sits Steve. On his lap is Nancy, her arms wrapped around Steve's white t-shirt clad shirt. Nancy's legs are wrapped around his hips, pulling him into her embrace.

The pair pull apart, obviously surprised by my intrusion.

Nancy looks slightly embarrassed. " Oh I'm sorry. We didn't think anyone would be out here this late. " She apologizes, quickly getting off of her boyfriend.

I don't bother to look at Steve, knowing anything I see will send a pang of even more embarrassment and jealousy through my heart.

Don't be jealous.

He doesn't like you. He never will. He's with fucking Nancy. It'd be wrong if he liked you.

Plus, Nancy is so sweet. How could I hurt her by dating Steve?

I turn around quickly, hurrying back down the path towards the dining hall.

Steve will never like someone like me.

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bluegalaxygirl · 5 months ago

Text

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) P20

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Bad language, Family issues, abuse, Violence, Blood and finally some fluff because we all need a Eustass 'Captain' Kid hug.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

< Previous part …. Next Part >

A knock on the door makes you groan forcing your tired eyes open, it was a good idea to take a nap before Kid shows up, hopefully it will give you more strength to apologies, with a sigh you move to sit up as Killer stands from his seat next to the window, the masked man runs a reassuring hand through your hair before making his way to the door where he cracks it open to check who it is. Leaning against the headboard you let out another sigh feeling the skin on your burned legs tingle and your backache, isn't sleeping superposed to make you feel batter? Opening the door Killer gladly lets the red head in although he didn't expect his partner to bring so much, his flesh hand holds a large bokay of flowers but the white paper and big black bow is too big to see anything inside, under his arm is a small box, one he knows billings to you. "I just though… she should have it" Kid sighs moving to let the masked man take the white wooden box with a sliver lock, Reaching out his metal hand Kid hands his partner the duffle bag with your cloths and book in it, in a way it takes the blonde's heart drop, but he takes it anyway. Thoughts run through his mind wondering why the captain is giving you most of your stuff, does he think your gonna leave? Does he really think things are over this quickly? Before he can ask though Kid walks up to you his hand tightening around the bokay of flowers trying not to crush them while also trying to calm his nerves. Relief washes over you at seeing the red head again, for a while you thought he might not want to see you, you'd understand, the things you said where cruel to say the least and its clearly taken effect on the man by his blood shot and dark eyes.

Its strange seeing him so deflated, shoulders too relaxed, lips not painted, chipped red nail varnish and scruffy hair, the only thing keeping the odd stands of hair out of his eyes is the hastily put on goggles strapped to his head. Despite the way he looks a smile forms on your face, not only is he here and willing to talk, but he also brought you flowers, you can't see what they are but that doesn't matter, he honestly doesn't seem the type to get a present like this so it makes you feel extra special. Clearing his throat Kid stops in front of you his nerves getting the best of him leaving the red head's mind going blank, he went over and over in his head all morning working out what to say and how to make things right, but he can't remember any of it, with a sigh Kid lifts his eyes to finally land on your face apologies ready to leave his mouth until he spots the dark patch of purple and slight yellow on your cheek, anger and worry boils in him wondering how you got it and when, its looks fresh maybe a day old, was it after what they did yesterday? Did your parents take it out on you? Placing the flowers down on the bed he quickly reaches out to touch your cheek fear and anger overriding his nervousness allowing him to speak "Baby, what happened?" Quickly grabbing his hand you lean closer feeling the need to apologise as quickly as possible hating the look on his face "Kid, I'm so sorry" The two of you didn't mean to speak at the same time but it at least gives both of you a moment to calm down and think before speaking.

The silence between the two of you is deferring, you know he wants answers about your cheek but what's more important is apologise, to make that look on his handsome face disappear. Bringing his hand closer you hold it to your chest "I'm sorry, i shouldn't have said all that stuff, i-i didn't mean it, i know how hard you've been trying" Tears well in your eyes as your grip tightens on his hand hoping and praying that he'll forgive you, Kid's eyes widen at your apology, in his mind he should be the one saying sorry, shaking his head the captain moves closer pressing his forehead to yours while squeezing your hand back "No… I'm sorry, Your right, all I've done is pick fights" Your heart sinks at the sad tone in his voice making you shake your head back, before you can protest though Kid gives you a smile while caressing your cheek and chin with his metal hand, the cold metal is soothing on your skin sending a sense of calm and safety through you "I'll try harder, i promise… But baby I' sorry, i went too far… Yesterday, i just got so angry and-" Kid grits his teeth hardly able to say it in fear of your reaction, his eyes squeeze shut not wanting to see the look of hate in your eyes at telling you how he hurt your mother. Scanning his face your heart sinks, you already know the reasons why he attacked your parents, you don't know what state their in but you know their not dead, so they did hold back. Letting go of his hand Kid lets out a shaky sigh his face twisting in pain until your arms wrap tightly around him pulling the red head into your embrace, a shocked gasp leaves his lips and his body goes stiff unsure of what to do.

Killer can't help but smile under his mask, even though you don't remember much your still their girl, the one they go to for comfort and reassurance, knowing he doesn't have to get involved now the masked man makes his way back to his chair by the window setting down the bag and box before turning back to Kid seeing his wide eyes pleading with the blonde for help. Holding back a laugh Killer's shoulders shake earning a scowl from his partner, deciding to be kind the blonde nods letting Kid know that it's ok to hug you back, relaxing into your touch he wraps his arms around you, his metal hand rubbing your back while the other runs through your hair pressing you closer while burying his face into your neck. He can't believe how much he's missed this, missed your touch, your smell, the sound of your voice, the feeling of your heart beat against his nose and how your fingers rake through his hair and into his scalp. "I don't know everything but i can guess you attacked my parents. I'm not mad surprisingly and i know there alive which means you all held back, you could have killed them so easily but you didn't, For me… You did it for me" A tear slips out of your eye at those words, it just makes it more real, these blood thirsty pirates who have made it clear they will kill your parents are holding back just for you. "Only for you baby" Kid whispers back placing a lingering kiss on your temple not wanting this moment to end, your heart flutters at the feeling, it feels so right being with them, being held like this.

Pulling away slightly you look into those amber eyes seeing that look you hate gone and a smirk on his face although there's a slight hint of redness in his cheeks as his eyes flick to your lips then back to your eyes, even though you don't want too you look away from his eyes instead looking to the bunch of flowers laying on the bed knowing if you don't then you will end up kissing him. You've only just made up so you don't want to ruin anything by diving in head first, see how things go for now and then maybe you could reconsider you stance on this feeling towards the two. "You brought flowers?" You ask getting the captain to look over at the white bokay as well, his touch leaves you, only resting his flesh arm on your shoulder while his metal one grabs the flowers as lightly as he can as to not crush them. "Ur, yea. They didn't have your favorite so i got you Tulips, Red, yellow and purple." A look of surprise covers your face as he hands you the flowers in a shy manner, his flesh hand moving off you to run the back of his head, Killer lets out a chuckle trying top hold back his laughter but failing for once at the sight of his bashful captain "Shut up, Kill" Kid growls through gritted teeth yet there's not bite to his bark, looking over the large arranged bokay in your hands you can't help the large toothy smile, your heart sores at the thoughtfulness, they may just seem like flowers but each one represents the three of you, Red of course for Kid, Yellow to match Killer's hair and your guessing the Purple represents you. "Your face is redder than your hair" Killer laughs bending over and holding his stomach trying not to laugh too loud as the red head turns redder with embarrassment but tries to make it seem like anger to save himself "I said, Shut, Up, Killer"

Leaning forwards you place a soft kiss on his burning red-hot cheek, shocking the captain enough to make him freeze "Thank you, Kid, there lovely" Clearing his throat Kid nods standing up and waving his hand "Yea, yea, don't expect me to do it again, it was only to get you to like me again" The captain shrugs portending like he doesn't care as Killer sighs placing a hand on his mask and shaking his head, hoping he hasn't just fucked things up luckily though you can't help but let out a small giggle, he's only saying this stuff out of embarrassment and as much as you would love to join in on the teasing your body and mind is too tired, plus he did something nice for you without being told too or asked, he deserves be saved from the embarrassment. Giving you a smirk Kid makes his way over to the other side of the bed lightly flicking Killer's mask with his metal fingers for laughing at him before leaning against the wall his arms crossed over his chest "Kill sorted out some stuff for you, he wanted to give it to you the other day but that nurse is… Persistent" The captain laughs still a little impressed by the young woman's ability to stand up to two big time pirates, shaking his head the masked man leans back in his chest crossing his arms over his chest and one leg over the other a little pissed off at being flicked on the mask but there also seems to be something else. "Yes, we did pack some of your stuff, we hope it'll bring back some more memories for you" The use of the word 'We' made you want to laugh again knowing Kid is too embarrassed to say he packed for you as well.

It's strange for him to be like this but you actually find it kinda cute, your snapped out of your thoughts by the blonde leaning forward the air around him changing from serious to nervousness and it makes you realize where this conversation is about to go, your ready to know what happened but your scared to find out why they did it, they found out something and it made them angry, thats all you know so far, a lot has happened in the past, lots of bad memories and events, your 18th birthday comes to mind, maybe they know what happened to make you leave, it would solidify everything for you. "But first we need to tell you what happened yesterday" Kid's shoulders tense at his partners words watching you nod and lean back into the headboard, Killer mainly does the talking telling you what happened with your parents some times the captain would join in mainly ranting through gritted teeth at the things your parents said, but then he went quiet again, not like his normal quiet more like seething quite as Killer explains what Heat found out. Your stomach churns hands clenched around the covers turning your knuckles white at the way he talks about it, like the words are venom in his mouth trying to spit them out, his hands clenches together almost shaking as his leg bounces and the muscles in his neck tenses ready to lash out at any second. Your eyes leave the blonde for a second looking to the captain a feeling of over powering energy flowing out of him, his eye's full of anger and breath hitched in his throat trying to stop himself from yelling, his flesh hand tightly grips his metal arm threatening to make the solid piece of metal buckle.

When Killer stops talking managing to relay everything to you without breaking into anger and a need to hit something you notice something floating out the corner of your eye, looking over a gasp escapes your lips seeing every piece of metal in the room floating around, some bigger pieces like the end table and bed's have what looks like purple electricity zapping in and out of it. Wait… Bed's. Your eyes widen at the realization looking down to see the bed your currently on hovering off the floor, luckily you aren't too high up but it still concerns you. "Urm… Kid" You clear your throat getting the captain and his first mate to look at where you should be, their eyes widen, the Blonde quickly standing and sending Kid a look through his mask although you can't tell what it is, while the captain pushes off the wall letting everything but your bed clatter to the floor, letting all his focus stay on the object your sitting on. "S-Shit, baby, i'm so sorry, you ok? You hurt?" The red head ask lowing your bed down as gentle as possible before rushing up to you and cupping your face, placing your hands over his you offer the red head a reassuring smile "It's ok, I'm ok, don't worry. I get angry too when i think back to everything" Those worried amber eyes turn angry again at your words remembering what he's heard so far and how there's probably more, he can't understand why your so calm about it, reassuring him when your the one that got hurt.

With a sigh you reach a hand around to the back of his head guiding his face into your shoulder slowly as to not spook him, the look in his eyes tells you his mind is spinning trying to work out his thoughts and feeling on the matter, he doesn't seem like the type of guy who would openly talk about it so you give him time to process. Looking up at Killer you can't tell what he's thinking or feeling but it doesn't matter in that moment, reaching a hand out you offer up the same affection hoping he will take it, if not for himself then for you luckily he quickly accepts stepping past your hand and kneeling on the floor the same as his captain to wrap his arms around the two of you pressing his mask into the side of your neck. As soon as your hand connects with his hair the masked man relaxes against you and you feel his hold breath release through the holes in his mask tickling your neck a little. There's more to talk about, you know they need answers to their questions but for now they allow you to hold them close, it feels so natural being like this, having the two hold you as you hold them, their scents mixing together in perfect harmony managing to calm your own pain at the memories but what pained you more was their reaction to it, you've never seen anyone get mad over what happened not even the doctor who has to reconstruct your ears. You know its not normal for an ordinary family to do the things that yours did but your family isn't ordinary, they have a reputation to uphold and you fought against that despite what would happen to you and because of that you shouldn't be upset or angry about it. Right?

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cmncisspnandmore · 7 months ago

Text

Tarmac and Tears

Pairings: John Price x F!Reader, Platonic!141 X F!reader.

Warnings: Character death, angst

You were one of the civilians that worked on base working in the admin department. Your main job is to file the paperwork and reports from the missions. It wasn't glamorous or even rewarding, but it didn't matter to you anymore. Being on base meant that you got to see your husband, and you would work any job if it meant you got to spend extra time with him.

He was a busy man, he was constantly being pulled away for meetings, training, or missions. Any extra moment was cherished, even if it was just sitting in his office eating lunch together.

You had heard a conversation that Task Force141 was on their way home after being gone for 2 months in the middle east. Your heart pounded in your chest, he was finally going to be home. After months of sleeping alone, months of missing hearing him in the mornings making coffee. He’d been gone so long that his side of the room no longer smelt like his cologne.

But that was going to change, he was coming home today.

You gathered your jacket, pulling it on over your button up blouse, as you rushed to get to the tarmac where the planes were landing. You shoved open the heavy metal doors to the air strip, the cold wind biting at your cheeks.

You bounce nervously on the balls of your feet, the shadow of the plane becoming visible through the thick clouds. The only other people on the tarmac were the regular crew who worked out there. The wind whips your hair across your face as the plane bumps to a land and starts slowing to a stop.

You wring your hands nervously as you wait for the stairs to drop down, the metal frame scratching against the pavement. This was it, a few other people started to climb down the stairs. You gave them a small wave as they walked by hauling their duffle bags over their shoulders as they walked to base.

You see Simon first. His large imposing form taking up most of the small staircase, his skull balaclava over his face. His duffle bag slung over his shoulder as he got to the bottom of the stairs. He pauses looking up at the next person, Kyle Garrick, his blue baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. You see Kyle say something to Simon but youre too far away to make it out.They take a step away from the stairs, allowing Johnny to climb down. His mohawk blowing in the wind. He reaches the bottom of the stairs and looks over, he's the first to see you. He leans over and taps Gaz and Ghost, their own faces turning towards you.

There's an unreadable expression on 2 of the 3 mens faces. They take a moment talking to one another before they start walking over to you. Your brows furrowed in confusion as the stairs of the plane pulled back up, and it started to slowly move to the bay where it's stored. Your heart pounds against your ribs as they come closer, where was John?

“Where's John?” Your voice is surprisingly steady.

The three men who fought alongside your husband stop in front of you, their bodies blocking the view of anyone else out there.

“I’m sorry…” Kyle's voice cracks, his eyes filled with tears as he looks at you.

“Did he get tied up with something? Did he fly out to see Laswell?” You ask, your brain refusing to process the defeated look on the others' faces.

“No, Love… Price. He,” Kyle takes a deep breath, “he was killed in the field.”

You shake your head, “don't mess with me like that, when is he coming home?”

You look between all of them again, “tell me hes coming home…” your voice breaks.

“I wish i could bonnie…” Soap whispers, as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver chain, a pair of dog tags, and a thick gold wedding band on it. He turns your now shaking hand over and presses the metal into your palm.

“N-no…” you whimper, the rest of the world fading out, the only sound the rushing of your blood in your ears. The pounding of your heart and the ragged, harsh rhythm of your breathing.

He was supposed to come back, he promised.

Your shoulders shake as you sob hysterically, hands curling over the cool metal in your palm. Why did he leave you? What were you going to do now?

“He wanted you to know how much he loved you… he didn't want to leave you,” Kyle says softly, and your tear filled eyes meet his face. You didn't realize you said that out loud.

The cold wind doesn't even bother you anymore, your entire body feels numb, like when the dentist gives you laughing gas. Your limbs don't want to cooperate with you anymore and your legs finally give out. Your head falling into your hands as you scream and sob. Three sets of hands go to catch you, but it's Kyle who manages to keep you from falling. His arms wrapped around your waist to keep you on unsteady feet.

Simon and Johnny share a look over his head as they watch Kyle hold you up. Your tear stained face pressed into the soft gray fabric of his shirt. Wordlessly Simon takes Kyle's duffle bag from him, slinging it up over his shoulder as Johnny shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. Your entire body trembles, as Kyle picks you up, one arm around your lower back, the other under your knees. He carries you into the base, your face pressed against the side of his neck as you sob. Johnny walks ahead of him, opening doors for him and Simon takes up the rear. Giving a sharp look to anyone who dares look a little too long.

You were by no means quiet, so people stared as the three of them walked you through the halls. You didn't know where you were going and you didn't care. Your heart was just ripped from your chest, and nothing mattered. The place where your heart once settled is now an open wound, festering with grief.

Kyle carefully lowers himself on to a couch, with you cradled in his lap. He listens to your heart wrenching sobs become quiet. The other two members of 141 stared blankly at the floor. It seemed like hours had passed when your sobs stopped. Your head resting against Kyle's chest. The front of his shirt soaked through with your tears. You stare at the white cinderblock wall. What were you supposed to do now?

The entire world seemed to go on outside of the room you sat in. It wasn't fair, why did other people get to be happy? Go home to their spouses, when you are going back to an empty house. You would always be going back to an empty house. There wasn't going to be anyone to cook dinner for. No midnight dances in the kitchen while the radio played an old love song.

John wasn't going to be there to help you with the gardening or bringing in the groceries anymore. He wouldn't be there to tell you, you looked beautiful when you showed him the new clothes you bought. You'd never feel his lips brush across your forehead when he left for work and he thought you were still asleep. No more breakfast in bed on anniversaries or birthdays.

He was gone.

And now, you wished you were too.

Because then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much, it wouldn't feel like someone had slashed you open and left you bleeding on the floor. It wouldn't feel like someone ripped your skin open with thousands of papercuts and soaked them in lemon juice.

Because maybe, in whatever afterlife people ended up in you would get to see him again. Get to tell him you loved him one more time, feel his arms around you, hear his laugh.

But he wouldn't want that. John wouldn't want you to give up on life because he was gone. You had talked about what you would do if something happened to him, but you weren't sure you had the courage to go on like he had wanted. You weren't sure if you wanted to live in a world where John Price wasn't part of it.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 3 #captain price #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #john price x reader #john x reader #captain john price #angst #cod mw3 #cod

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kagecreep · 2 months ago

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Crumbling Bones (VxMC)

(KillerChat)

Description: You accidentally kill someone and, in a panic, call the only person you know who can help you.

Notes: honestly did not know how to tag this but i hope its adequate, AND i hope you enjoy! WC: 2.6k

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Your breath shattered, shaking in your chest as you stared down at the mess. With deft fingers, numb from the cold, you reached for your pocket, pulling out your phone. Your eyes remained glued to the body before you, mangled and still pouring out blood, and you blindly rang for V.

It was the only sound in the snow-covered alley. The only light in the cloudy night. Your cry for help, ringing from your phone.

It took four rings before he answered in a firm, low voice.

"Hello?" He asked.

You could picture his narrowed eyes; that image flashed over the corpse. But the corpse returned, still warm enough to melt the snowflakes falling atop it. Atop him.

"V," you said. Your voice shook and barely came out, stumbling over your lips like a drooling child. "I need your help."

He paused, then asked, "what is it?"

"I..." You squeezed your eyes shut. I'm not here, I'm not here. "I hurt someone," you said, trailing off into a quiet wail.

"You what?"

The screech of a chair sounded in the background of his call.

"Are you alright?" He asked, followed by the sound of clothes ruffling. "Tell me where you are."

"I'm fine," you slurred. "I'm fine, he didn't – he didn't hurt me. I - I'm in the alley, b - behind the library."

"The one on 12th street?" He asked. More clothing.

"Yeah."

"I told you not to go there." Clattering, and a loud, long zipper. Open and shut. "Wait there for me. Stay hidden."

He hung up. His words had done nothing to quell your trembling heart. Your phone slipped out of your hands and fell into the snow. You took your body, distant from your mind, and crawled into the junction between the alley wall and the dumpster, hiding in your thick jacket, hoping anyone passing by might mistake you for a trashbag and treat you accordingly.

Two cars passed by as you waited, interspersed by a ten minute interval, their tires crunching over the thin layer of snow. They rolled slowly but never stopped. Engines like a low fire. It made sense––it was past midnight, and the library was closed by 8PM. You were only here due to working late. If you hadn't accepted the extra work your manager gave you––if you had only left when you were meant to––maybe you wouldn't have encountered this man. Maybe he wouldn't have grabbed you and held a gun to your head. Maybe it wouldn't have turned out this way.

But this was not a time for 'maybe's. The body was laid out in front of you now, irreversibly its' lifeforce stolen, leaking into the snow with a vibrant crimson. You stared, your vision half-obscured by the large dumpster and your jacket, until footsteps crunched through the snow, approaching and growing louder. You tightened, eyes flinching shut till that honeyed voice called out.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?"

You perked up, lifting your head to find V's shadow from the warm streetlights, stretched along the alley floor. You scrambled to your feet, emerging from your hiding place.

"V," you breathed out, tears budding in your eyes.

You could barely see his face against the light. In his hand he carried a large duffle bag, and at his hip, revealed by the blowing of his coat in the wind, hung a butcher's knife.

He dropped the bag. The two of you ran forward and collided, embracing through layers of wool and fear. He grasped and held tight, tucking your head against his chest.

"Thank God you're alright." He pulled you away, holding your face in his hands. "What happened, my love?"

The memory flashed, already blurred by the panic of the moment. You stuttered it out in flailing words.

You left for home. He pulled you into the alley. The cold ring of metal against your temple, and a demand to fall on your knees. A demand to –

You choked on your breath, shaking your head.

"I – I – I took the gun, I don't think h - he was expecting it, but I just – turned it around, and I..."

"It's alright," he said, taking your hands. "Calm down, it's alright. I'm here now. You do not need to worry. I am quite adept at discarding bodies; you know that. Calm down, my love."

"I - I'm calm," you whispered, your breath hitching. "V, I didn't mean to do it. I just -"

"I don't care if you meant to do it or not. It is clear to me that this was no man of honour. And if you had not killed him, I would have killed him myself for hurting you," he said.

"But he didn't actually hurt me," you moaned, choked sobs brimming in your voice.

"He was going to. And even the intention to do so to you, my love... it fills me with an indescribable rage." He tucked your hair behind your ear. "If it is my approval you are worried about––or my lack thereof––you need not concern yourself with it. I came, did I not?"

"Yes, but... I thought..."

"Rid the thought from your mind. Come now, this is not a time to linger. Close your eyes... and let me work," he said, dark auburn eyes staring intently into yours.

You nodded, shakily, and let him cover your eyes with your hands, ever beckoned by his command.

He unzipped the duffle bag, dragging it through the snow to set it down nearby. The rip of a knife echoed, dulled by the falling snow, and then crunching––then slicing, and rippling as blood dribbled steadily out, a rippling brook, steaming in the frigid air. Crunching and slicing, squelching meat and snapping bone. The slam of a blade coursing through flesh and onto concrete.

He was chopping up the body.

You understood, as your body shook at each sound, why he had asked you to close your eyes.

Your legs were aching fiercely by the time he was finished. When he asked you to open your eyes again, the duffle bag was full, and all that remained in the alley was a thick pool of blood.

"It'll continue snowing for some time. That should hide most of the blood till spring, and by then... nothing else will remain of this scum," he growled, narrow eyes lingering on the stain.

He grunted as he lifted up the bag, and walked forward, looking up to scan you.

"Stay with me tonight," he said softly. "I... would be comforted, knowing I can keep you safe."

You sniffled, wiping your dripping nose with the back of your gloved hand. A quiet nod was all you gave and all you earned in return. You picked your phone off the alley floor, already half-obscured by falling snow, and followed V out into the street.

Orange streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and the footprints V had made to get to you. His car was parked just across the street, and the two of you padded silently through the snow to get there. V opened the back first, loading the bag of limbs into the car before climbing into the driver's seat, where you already sat across from him, your eyes in your lap.

The radio buzzed to life as the car slowly started, but V was quick to turn it off, flicking the dial with a single motion of his wrist. The engine rattled for a moment before humming, muffled by the snow. Then it reared, tire tracks embedding in the snow, and the car lumbered off down the small, empty road.

Beside you, V's hands tightened around the steering wheel, his gloves squeaking against the leather. You curled in on yourself a little further, pressing your cheek to the freezing inner wall of the car.

Suddenly, he broke the silence, his deep voice growling in the still air.

"I cannot believe the audacity one must have to threaten and attack you," he hissed, eyes steeling as he stared at the road ahead.

You looked up, cradling your body.

"What do you mean?" You murmured.

"You know very well what I mean," he said, but did not elaborate.

"... I'm not sure I do," you said quietly.

"I mean –" He pursed his lips, his eyes flickering between you and the windshield. "... you're very... innocent looking."

"You thought I was a serial killer for the first, like, five months of our friendship."

"If you'll recall, I did mention, upon first seeing your face and hearing your voice, that you did not remind me of a serial killer. That is because..."

His face screwed up again, a soft blush indifferent to the cold coating his cheeks. You waited.

"... you are very sweet-looking."

You chuckled softly, your smile crooked and weak.

"I'm sure I don't look so sweet now," you mumbled.

"Nonsense. A little blood is not enough to besmirch nor obscure your beauty. Besides... the way you look is not altogether important at the moment. I am just happy you are safe." He paused. "I want you to promise me you won't take any more late hours, or go anywhere near that alley again. It is a dangerous place. You've heard me talk about it before in great detail... the robberies. The murders."

"It's not like I went inside the alley on purpose, I told you, he –"

"I know you didn't, my love. I believe you." His voice softened. "Please. Promise me."

"... I promise," you murmured.

Refusing to take extra hours after your shift was through would certainly damage your reputation at work, but you supposed when choosing between your life or your popularity with your boss, you would choose your life––especially since you had V to take care of.

"I wouldn't know what to do if I lost you," he said suddenly, his voice strung tightly and his grip on the wheel tightening further. "Actually, I know exactly what I would do. I'd hunt down whatever odious vermin dared to kill you and torture them to death myself."

"And after that?" You asked softly.

His hands loosened, and he relaxed partially back into his seat. He sighed––a gentle motion that hardly moved his chest.

"I'd walk to the end of the earth... and jump off."

"I don't like the sound of that," you mumbled.

"You would be dead. It wouldn't matter if you liked the sound of it or not," he said.

"Maybe not," you said. "But I am alive, so hold off on it for now, yeah?"

He glanced at you.

"Of course," he said stiffly.

It was another twenty minutes before you arrived at V's home; a place hidden far away from the prying eyes of society. He hauled the bag out of the back end of his car and pulled it inside, using it to prop the door open so he could take your hand and graciously help you over the entrance. You accepted his aid, and stepped to the side to allow him to close the door.

"You know the routine," he said, grunting as he locked the door shut. "Do you want to help me?"

"... not this time," you said quietly.

"I understand," he said. He came to stand before you, once more cradling your face in his hands. "But I must do this fairly soon after death has occurred. I hope you will excuse me."

"Yeah, I understand," you mumbled.

"Good." He kissed your forehead. "Go wait for me in the bathroom. You will be away from the noise there."

You nodded and shuffled away. Behind you, the duffle bag zipped open once more, and V set to work.

You shed yourself of your shoes and outer jacket, but remained in your clothes as you shut the bathroom door behind you, slumping to the floor. V's bunker had become a lot more hospitable ever since you began visiting more often, but you had yet to do anything to his bathroom, and so it remained the same with its cold lights and unforgiving angles. Fortunately V was an impeccably clean person, and each corner of the bathroom was suitable for you to collapse on. You remained in the corner next to the door.

Most of the noise was cancelled out. But the occasional ripping made its' way through––the grinding and chopping. The slamming of the freezer door as he stored body parts. The electric whirring as he mixed meat and vegetables into feed.

If there was something you were supposed to be feeling, you knew you weren't feeling it. An emptiness opened up in your chest--a hollowed thought wondering if it was right or wrong to feel happy and secure with someone who ground up human meat. You supposed it didn't matter either way. There was no satisfaction in knowing your assailant was gone and would fester in the stomachs of snakes and spiders. The fear, however, did dissipate, and left you alone, isolated from thought.

You stared at the floor, and tried not to listen to the meat grinder.

A little while later, the door handle moved, and the swinging door pushed against your back. You shifted to the side, allowing V to slide into the bathroom.

"I've finished," he said softly, squatting down in front of you. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," you mumbled, then scoffed. "You know, you'd think... being surrounded by serial killer friends, that I'd be more accustomed to... this."

"Being surrounded by death is much different than enacting it yourself. Your reaction is understandable. I... would have thought you would clean yourself up, though," he said slowly.

"Why?" You asked, sniffling.

"... your face has blood on it."

"... oh."

Wordlessly, he helped you to your feet, and with firm, gentle hands stripped you of the rest of your clothing. You shivered as your feet met the cold floor, and he quickly reached to turn on his shower. The water began to steam immediately, and the rising vapour only reminded you of hot blood in the winter air.

You stepped inside, and as the hot water pounded over your shoulders, the tension slowly seeped down the drain with it.

"I will go wash your clothing. There should be enough hot water for a pleasant shower. Please, take your time," he said, gathering up your bloodied clothes, and leaving.

You sighed, heart sinking comfortably in your chest. You washed your hair, skin, and scrubbed your face, rubbing it raw with soap and rags. Eventually the water grew cooler, and with that you turned the faucet off, stepping out to dry yourself.

V returned soon after hearing the pipes quiet. He came with pajamas–-a set he had ordered hand-made for you when you started visiting more often––and allowed you privacy to dress. When you emerged from the bathroom he was waiting beside the door. He took your hand, and quietly walked with you to bed.

He pulled the sheets back––you crawled in, and he pulled them back over you, gently settling the blanket over your shoulders. Afterwards, he climbed in next to you, and with a leasing sigh pulled you against his body, tucking your head beneath his chin.

"Sleep now and forever hold your peace," he mumbled.

You opened your eyes, pulling away slightly.

"V... was that a pun?"

"... I suppose it was," he grumbled.

"Almost sounded like a marriage proposal," you joked in return.

"While I am not at all averse to the idea... I think it is a discussion better left to the morning. Sleep well, my love. If you have any troubles, do not hesitate to wake me, yes?" He said, petting your hair.

A heated blush covered your cheeks, and your palms began to sweat.

"Y.. yes, of course," you said.

He smiled softly, and tucked you back in underneath his chin.

"Good night, my love."

"... good night, Valentin."

Your sigh rattled in your empty body, and you settled your crumbling bones into sleep.

#killer chat v #valentin viljoen #killer chat

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