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glossdebut · 10 days

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Take a Bite Ch. 3

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: yoongi being RICH. also... remember that eventual smut? well it's kind of here! if you wanna skip, stop reading at [Maybe you should fix that.] and then continue at [After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach...]

✧ WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

✧ STATUS: ongoing

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi i normally post on wednesdays but we're about to get a HURRICANE where i'm at so i'm posting early lmfao. rating goes up in this chapter whoops! not sure when chapter 4 will be posted but i'll keep you guys updated. thank you all so much for the engagement i've been receiving on this fic!!! it's my first one ever and i never expected to get so many readers so quickly <3 you guys are keeping me writing so please feel free to send me feedback if you like this chapter. i'd love to read it if i have power over the next few days LOL

Chapter 3: I Wanna Fold Clothes For You

So, you and Yoongi are friends.

Of course, seeing him three times within twenty four hours was a fluke, and over the next six days you don’t see him once, not even in passing in your shared hallway. You’re not privy to his work hours, but you know based on what little he’s told you that working as a producer demands more than the normal nine to five, as does your job.

Still, there’s something about coming home every night and knowing that you have a friend right down the hall, if you need one. You haven’t had that in a long time, and you feel so much lighter now that you do have it.

There is, of course, an upside to not being able to see Yoongi often. Given that you’ve only just met him, you don’t have his appearance committed to memory quite yet, and mercifully, you’re beginning to forget why you were so viscerally attracted to him in the first place.

You reason that it must’ve been the alcohol. You were getting drunk when you met him, stupidly drunk when you discovered that you’re neighbors, hungover when you shared a tangerine, and drinking from a bottomless glass of wine (courtesy of Seokjin) when you drooled over his hands for a solid ten minutes. You have yet to interact with Yoongi clear-headed and lucid. Not to mention you’re just a little bit… pent up, recently. Drunk and horny Y/N had the wheel. That has to be it. Nobody is that hot. You’re sure of that. Men ain’t special!

So you go through your week business as usual, but with a slight spring in your step, and it’s lovely. You even venture way further away from the office for your lunch hour on Friday than you normally would to go to a restaurant you’ve been dying to try. You’re usually so tied to the office that the furthest you tend to go is the convenience store down the street for the instant stuff.

And then, since the universe demands correction (or overcorrection where you’re concerned), all of the floaty goodness comes to a screeching halt when you get in your car to head back to the office. Your car which, in the past hour you’ve been blissfully stuffing your face with tteokbokki, has decided it has done its job and is ready to retire.

It just straight up won’t start.

Sitting in the parking lot of the restaurant, you go into crisis management mode.

You’re thankfully not completely clueless where cars are concerned. It comes with the territory of owning a beater. You keep up with your oil changes, you don’t leave the lights on when you get home late. You replaced your battery semi-recently, so that shouldn’t be it. Unfortunately, you don’t have much time to troubleshoot. You need to get back to work. Okay… Damage control, then.

The most obvious solution is to call one of your coworkers to come and rescue you, but your coworkers are just as notorious for being tethered within a one mile radius of the office as you are, so that would more than likely end up being a waste of time. You could find the nearest bus stop, but who knows how long public transportation could take right now? Too unpredictable. You could call your boss and tell him that you’re not going to be back to the office anytime soon (or at all today) and get your car towed and repaired. But then you would suddenly have a reputation of being unreliable, because god forbid you have a human moment. That’s straight up not an option. You’ve been doing so good this week.

You’re sure there are other options. But isn’t this what friends are for?

He answers on the fifth ring, but he answers.

“Y/N?”

“Yoongi.” You feel your shoulders slump in relief. You try your best not to sound as panicked as you feel. “Are you busy?”

“Um. I’m at the studio,” he says, confusion in his voice. “But I have a minute. Is everything okay?” Confusion and concern? That’s nice.

“Everything’s fine!” you blurt out. “Okay, maybe not. My car won’t start! I don’t know why, but it won’t, and I need to get back to work, but you’re at work, too! I don’t even know where you work, but I doubt it’s anywhere near where I am, and even if it is, I don’t want to tear you away from anything important—”

“Y/N.”

“—I know you said you had a minute, but I really don’t want to fuck up your flow. That’s a term, right? You’re a producer, you… flow. Anyway, I just don’t really know anyone here and I didn’t know who to call, and if I don’t get back to work soon my boss is going to kill me—”

“Y/N,” he says, more firmly. Your mouth snaps shut. “Where are you?”

“In my car,” you say dumbly, frazzled.

Yoongi sighs. “Send me your location.”

“For what?”

“I’m gonna send a car to come get you and drive you to your office,” he says, and he sounds just the slightest bit exasperated about needing to explain that to you.

Send a car? What the fuck? You have so many questions, such as: how fucking loaded is the guy who lives two doors down from you in your very shitty apartment building? What label does he even work for? How famous of a producer is he to be able to send a car to you? But your immediate instinct to turn down his help wins out over asking any of them.

“What? Yoongi, no, that’s too much,” you complain. “Don’t do that. I just freaked out a little bit, I can–”

“Y/N,” he interrupts. If you’re not mistaken, it sounds a bit like he’s trying not to laugh at you. Fucker. “Location.”

So you send him your location. What other option do you have?

“You’re not far,” Yoongi says once he receives your text. A few moments pass, and then: “Car will be there in ten.”

“Thank you,” you say. You feel nauseous, like maybe you’re going to cry, but there’s also a good amount of relief there, too. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need,” he says. “I’d come get you myself, but I really can’t get away right now.”

“Still, there’s a comically large bottle of an alcohol of your choosing in your future. Seriously, thank you.”

His responding laugh is enough to settle your stomach just a little. “Seriously, you don’t need to pay me back…” A pause. “But for the record, I like whiskey.”

You wrinkle your nose even though he can’t see it. “Gross.”

“Don’t be a hater.”

“As long as you don’t make me drink it with you, I’ll keep my comments to myself,” you say, finding yourself smiling.

“Oh, you think I share?” Yoongi teases back. He sighs again. “I really have to go.”

“Go, go,” you say. “Thanks for saving me. Even if it’s by proxy.”

“You can always call me if you need shit like this,” he says. You can tell that he means it. “I’m glad you called me. Means I’m doing something right.”

“You are,” you say, your voice soft. Your cheeks feel warm. Probably because you’re sitting in a dead car. “Thanks.”

Yoongi hums in response. “Text me when you get back to the office safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye, Yoongi.”

And that’s that.

★ ★ ★

True to your word, you text Yoongi when the stupidly luxurious car he ordered for you drops you off at your office, only ten minutes later than you’re due back from your lunch break. You’re able to slip in without anyone noticing that you’re late at all, which is great. Crisis partially averted.

He sends back a thumbs up emoji, and then decides to drop the bomb that he intends to pay for your car to be towed.

[1:21] You: YOONGI NO

[1:21] You: you can’t do that!!!!

[1:24] Yoongi: 100% I can and will as soon as I get ten minutes to make a phone call to sort it out.

The audacity of this man.

[1:25] You: seriously i cannot ask you to do that

[1:25] You: i was just going to take the bus back to the restaurant after work and deal with it from there. i’m actively researching towing companies and repair places on company time as we speak

[1:30] Yoongi: You’re not asking me. You’ve got enough to worry about. Let me take care of it. I know the places.

[1:31] You: still, i can’t let you spend money like that on me. i don’t even wanna think about what that car cost you

[1:31] Yoongi: If it helps you sleep at night you can pay me back on your own time. You definitely don’t have to though.

[1:32] Yoongi: That reminds me. You can use that car until yours is taken care of if you need to. I’ll send you the driver’s contact. Don’t take the bus.

You feel like you’re going insane.

[1:33] You: do you have a grammy or something? what do you DO to be able to afford shit like this? why do you live in our building? are you a drug dealer?

[1:37] Yoongi: :]

Of course, he gives you no clues about what exactly he does, but after a bit more back-and-forth, you finally give in and let Yoongi handle everything under the condition that you’re going to pay him back. He doesn’t seem all that worried about it, which infuriates you just a little.

You go through the rest of your day like normal, if not a tad twitchy. Come quitting time, you take advantage of having a driver at your disposal and have him stop a liquor store on your way home.

As you take the elevator up to your floor, comically large whiskey bottle (as promised) in tow, you text Yoongi and ask if he’s home yet. At his responding ‘No, why?’ you cackle to yourself and pocket your phone. The elevator doors slide open. You were hoping that would be the case.

You clocked out at a semi-normal time tonight, a gift to yourself to cope with the stress of the day, and so you take great pleasure in setting the bottle down on Yoongi’s very tasteful cat doormat, flipping it off right back on your way into your own apartment.

You silently pray to whatever god may be listening that the whiskey isn’t swiped by someone before Yoongi gets home. Your cat, Pepper, is blinking at you lazily on the kitchen counter, and you give her a triumphant little scratch on the head before padding to your bedroom to deal with your laundry.

Your move, Min Yoongi.

★ ★ ★

“Do I need to be jealous?”

You take advantage of getting off work early to call your best friend Rina for the first time in what feels like forever. She’s in Paris this month, debuting a play that she’s been working on tirelessly about aliens and drug addiction. You’ve read the script six times over. It’s both campy and gut wrenching all at once, and you’ve cried every time. You picture her with her very chic haircut, sipping from a flute of champagne. The thought of her being jealous of any part of your life is laughable.

“What do you have to be jealous of, exactly?” you snort, holding your phone between your ear and shoulder as you toss your laundry basket upside down on your bed unceremoniously. Your clothes are covered in a perma-layer of Pepper hair, and you think it’s lucky that Pepper is a black cat and most of your clothes are black. Very enviable.

“Of Yoongi, dipshit,” she coos through the phone. “You’re replacing me.”

“Sure,” you say, like she’s making total sense. You’re lying on top of your laundry now instead of folding it. You put her on speakerphone and rest your phone on your chest. “I’m throwing away ten years of being your best friend for a guy that I met a week ago. I’m glad you figured it out, honestly, because I was dreading telling you. I was going to wait until your matinée, but you don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“Of course. You have to do what’s right for you, I’ve always told you that,” she deadpans back, and you groan. You don’t want to hear it. “No, I just mean… It’s good. That you’re meeting people.”

“We’re neighbors,” you say, flopping over onto your front to rub at your temples. Rina is resting on a pile of your underwear now. “We talk about work. My work, not his, because he thinks it’s funny to act like he’s too cool to tell me about his job. He’s helping me with my car. We’re… neighborly.”

“And you want to fuck him,” she says. Maybe calling Rina was a bad idea. Debriefing over text would have sufficed.

“I don’t want to fuck him,” you say, indignant. “We’re friends. He’s nice. I can have a guy friend.”

“Of course you can,” Rina says, like you’re dumb for even thinking she would imply otherwise. “And you can be friends with him all you want. But you also want to fuck him.”

You groan in protest but she speaks over it.

“Baby, you can pretend, but I know how you talk about people you want to have sex with, even if you don’t say it outright,” she continues. “He may just be feeding you and helping you and talking to you about the weather, but I know you, and I know the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, letting your face drop into your laundry. It smells good. Small comforts.

“Are you going to let him?”

“No,” you whine, muffled by the cotton. “I don’t need that. There are always strings. I hate strings.”

“You said he’s a super straightforward, honest guy, right?” Rina asks.

“Brutally so,” you grumble.

“So. Maybe he’d be cool with a lack of strings. You won’t know unless you ask, baby.”

You want to tell her that’s easy for her to say, but you don’t want to fight with her when you know you won’t hear from her like this again for a while.

Rina has never compromised for anything. She decided in both of your sophomore year of college, after flirting with both performance and directing, that she wanted to be a playwright, and that was that.

She wrote and wrote and wrote, and after you graduated together, her career blossomed almost instantly because she worked goddamn hard for it. She got opportunities to travel and work with theatre companies around the world, and she took them without giving it a second thought because she knew it was what she wanted. And she’s had a consistent, loyal boyfriend nearly the whole time. He doesn’t always travel with her, but he supports her in everything she does. They’re excruciatingly healthy about it.

When your long-term college boyfriend dumped you unceremoniously two months into your first reporter gig because he felt he came second to your career, Rina was there for you. But you resented her a little bit. There was no way she could understand any of it.

Still, as much as you hate to admit it, she has a point. You could just ask Yoongi if he wants to fool around without it being a thing, and you know he’d give you a straight answer. You’re even pretty confident he wouldn’t make it weird if his answer was no. That’s not the problem. It never is.

“The problem isn’t whether or not I think he’d be cool with it,” you mumble. “The problem is if he is cool with it, and then the strings come anyway. The friendship is nice. I’m attracted to him, yeah, fine. But I can ignore it if it means I get to be his friend.”

Theres a long pause on the line, and then Rina sighs.

“Your life would be a lot easier if you could do one night stands,” she says.

Don’t you know it.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve gotta go, okay? Text me. Keep me updated on life.” You read between the lines. On Yoongi, she means. “I love you.”

“Mmmhh,” you mumble back, still burying your face into your laundry.

When the line disconnects, you feel considerably more twitchy and irritable than you did before talking to Rina.

So, you’re attracted to Yoongi. Or you were, when you were drunk and he was all… hot and considerate. That doesn’t mean you have to act on it! You’re not going to act on it. You’re just pent up, that’s all. It’s been a long time since you’ve had an orgasm, self-inflicted or otherwise, and you can’t think straight.

Maybe you should fix that.

It’s clear you’re giving up on laundry for the night, so you shove the mountain of clothes back into the basket on the floor, sighing as you lay back on your bed.

You feel only slightly ridiculous as you shimmy your sleep shorts down your thighs, your hands sliding up your shirt to cup your breasts, squeezing slightly. Warming yourself up.

You quickly decide to get to the point, though. You’re struggling to immerse yourself in the fantasy that usually does the trick, too wound up and embarrassed (as if it’s not you in here by yourself, as usual) at groping yourself.

Despite the embarrassment, it becomes abundantly clear that you didn’t really need to warm yourself up anyway. Your fingers slide through your folds with ease, drenched like you’ve been that way all fucking day, unbeknownst to you, and a surprised moan falls from your lips. Fuck.

Closing your eyes, you circle two fingers around your clit experimentally, making your hips jerk up under you, sensitive. You do it again, a little firmer, starting a slow rhythm that makes you squirm against your mattress, your bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

It feels good. It usually does—you’ve always been able to make quick work of an orgasm to rid yourself of any lingering jitters before bed. But it feels really good right now, your pussy extra sensitive tonight, and you can’t figure out why. There’s nothing new about what you’re doing.

Rina’s words worm their way into your brain uninvited—the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him—and you’re too turned on to stop that train of thought, flashes of capable hands and pink tongue (tonguetechnologytonguetechnologytonguetechnology) filling your mind, and you’re moaning softly despite yourself as you rub your clit a little faster.

You continue to make soft noises of pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, dry from panting as the barrage of Yoongi-related thoughts keep coming, bringing you closer and closer to your release.

Dark, dark eyes looking down at you. A delicate chain dangling above your face. You whimper, your fingers sliding down from your clit to sink into your pussy, curling up to rub at your inner walls. A thick cock sliding into you, filling you so deliciously.

You pump your fingers fast and desperate as you get closer and closer to that sweet edge. You wonder what Yoongi would sound like if he was the one fucking into you right now. Would he moan in your ear in that gravelly voice of his? He’s a man of few words. Would he be like that in bed, too? Would he call you sweet names? Not so sweet? Which ones?

Your walls flutter around your fingers, your hips stuttering up off the mattress as your orgasm crashes over you and you gasp out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You stare up at the ceiling for a minute panting. The high of your release buzzes pleasantly through your body before it starts ebbing away, but the thoughts of Yoongi pervade. Well, fuck.

After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach to grab a towel from your laundry basket and wipe off your fingers, tossing it on the floor. You grab your phone, only to be greeted by a notification from the subject of your masturbation fantasy himself. He sent it about ten minutes ago.

When you tap it open, you’re greeted with a photo (!!!) of Yoongi holding your gift next to his head, the hand wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle almost dwarfed by its sheer size. A testament to the ridiculousness of it, because you’re well aware of how long Yoongi’s fingers are. There’s a lazy smirk on his face, and a mole that you’re just now noticing on his right cheek.

[8:23] Yoongi: Cute.

Yep. Yep. Cool.

You swipe out, tapping on Rina’s contact.

[8:35] You: okay. i want to fuck him.

[8:35] Rina: 🥂🥳🎉

Shit.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro

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#take a bite #bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi smut #minors dni

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thetorturedbuckydepartment · 2 months

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chapter two: the arrival

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!SHIElD!reader

masterlist

summary: being a SHIELD agent, you have a knack for analysing people, particularly when it comes to attraction. you have everyone figured out, sorted away into the boxes you've created. But there's one man you can never seem to figure out, the very bane of your existence -- Bucky Barnes. On the field, he is a saint, helping you dodge bullets and taking knife wounds in your name. Around the building? Public menace number one, always poised to insult or to spar with you.

After being sent on a 6-month-long torture-cum-vacation with the very man, could all this change? Could you finally figure out what has been bubbling beneath the surface for years between the two of you, the juggernaut that you know you cannot stop?

warnings: language, heavy mentions of sex, brief and non-specific mentions of Bucky’s past

word count: 2.9k

taglist: @cjand10 @mcira

PREVIOUS PART

A/N: so excited for you guys to read! sorry ive been MIA recently -- the first half of august will be extremely stressful for me as I have my drivers theory test on the 10th, then I find out if I get into uni on the 15th, hopefully all goes well but you never know!! so for that reason, I haven't been able to write much since posting the first chapter, so updates might be every 2 weeks or so! im so sorry </3, but as always, please let me know how you're finding the story!!!!

The wedding band offers you a strange comfort as you twist it around and around your fingers, staring out of the window of the private jet. It’s a simple golden band, with your initials and Bucky’s engraved onto the inner edge. You hate it, but are too ashamed to vocalise it. It was less than a week ago that you were sobbing on the floor about pretending to be married, and now the wedding band, his initials rubbing against your skin on the inside of it gives you solace?

Bucky notices, because of course he does. He moves to sit directly in front of you, and you turn to him. Officially, the two of you are on the clock now, and so you keep your face impassive, instead of scowling or staring angrily at him. He leans back in his seat, shoving his hands into the dark leather jacket you’re all too familiar with, slouching. He’s wearing jeans the same colour as his eyes, and a red henley that’s just peeking through the top of the jacket. Average, suburban white guy, with a bit of New York flair.

“You’ve been avoiding me all week.” He states simply, like it’s the most abhorrent fact he’s ever had the displeasure of narrating. You nod, trying your best to not let a snarky remark sneak past your lips, currently coloured in a sheer red.

“I don’t want to get sick of you too soon. It’s the longest we’ve ever been on any mission. You remember Bucharest, right? How we were almost at each other’s throats in two weeks, and because of us poor Sam spent a week in the medbay? I don’t want that to happen again.” He glances down at the memory, as if humiliated by the outcome of that mission. You know you are — you still check Sam’s hands to see if he’s still healing. You assume he’s done with talking to you and turn to stare back out the window, admiring the green fields and fluffy clouds.

“I understand. But that means we haven’t talked about anything. Like our cover story, how I proposed. Or how affectionate we’re going to be with each other.”

“Well, you’re still going as James Barnes, aren’t you?” Realistically, you should’ve said The Winter Soldier. That’s what you mean, and he knows that. But you can’t bring yourself to say it, to remind him of everything he’s trying to escape from. It seemed to be an unspoken boundary between the two of you, that you’ll never throw that title in his face, especially when you’ve seen the way he retracts from society and begins to shake in his seat at those three words, regardless of who uses them. His past, before you knew him, you decide to leave untouched. You couldn’t live with yourself if you belittled him and shamed him for things that happened to him, things that he was never in control of.

You’ve read the case files. You know the atrocities. You can’t do that to him. Even if he chose to cross that line, you can’t wound him in such a way, especially not for petty revenge. You want to annoy him, yes, but you don’t want him to truly ache irrevocably because of you. For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to do that to him.

“Yes. And you’re still going as you?” You nod, gears turning in your head.

“We can say we met in Wakanda, and we were friends for 5 years. You were hopelessly in love with me the whole time, obviously. But I only started seeing you as more than a friend after… we went to a friend’s wedding together, and I didn’t have a partner so I dragged you along with me. When they exchanged their wedding vows, I realised that what you and I had was special, and that you’re ridiculously handsome. And the rest is history.” You shrug, hating that you’ll have to admit to his stupid, pretty face that he has a stupid pretty face.

“How’d you come up with that? You don’t really seem the romance type…”

You think for a moment, reabsorbing the insult that you almost fire at him. Is he implying that you’re a slut, again?

“Just because I’ve never been serious about anyone before, doesn’t mean I’m a heartless monster, James. I’ve read books, and seen TV shows. I prefer romance, to remind myself that somehow, sometimes, men can be at least decent.” Your eyes bore into his then, silently expressing your anger. “And I’d really appreciate it if half of your insults toward me aren’t slutshaming. Keep it to yourself.” You can’t help it.

His eyebrows furrow, and somehow he looks even sexier. God, you hate how your sexual attraction toward him peaks when he’s civil with you. “What? I’ve never…”

“Yes you have, don’t lie. Almost every other sentence you say to me, you mention me sleeping around. Now, I don’t give a fuck what you think, but it’s beginning to get annoying. You wanna get your marks up? Find some new material.”

“Butterscotch, no. That’s—That’s not what I mean. You’re the only person I’m ever around who’s had so much sex, but it’s not a bad thing. Definitely not a bad thing. It just genuinely seems to me that whenever I see you, you’re always planning to hook up with someone. That’s why. I’m not shaming you for having sex, do whatever the fuck you want. I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise, or if that’s why you hate me.” You’re constantly shifting between staring out the window, and at him, but when he apologises you can’t help but give yourself whiplash, wondering if he’s joking.

A million more questions circle your mind, and your anger flares up before you can stop it. You stand up, walking over to where he sits. He watches your face, as you grip the armrests and lean down so you’re uncomfortably close to him. He gets flustered so quickly, it’s another one of your favourite weaknesses of his to exploit. “You think that’s why I hate you? I hate you, because you’re an arrogant, self-centred bitch, who’s only ever treated me like shit.” In truth, he’s only arrogant and self-centred when it comes to you. To everyone else, he’s as sweet and humble as they come, and that’s what bothers you the most.

That he’s chosen to have some personal vendetta against you from the very first night he met you, when you tried to be kind. You greeted him, smiled at him, bought him a vinyl player and limited edition vinyls from the 40s in mint condition for his fucking birthday, and all he ever was, was cruel to you. He scowled, he turned away from you. He all but threw your thoughtful gift across the room and fled from the birthday party.

That was your breaking point, when you decided that he’s not worth it. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was fresh out of Wakanda at the time, and you thought that maybe he was just having trouble reintegrating into society, what with the hell he’d been through. But then, you noticed the way he spoke to Nat with a wide smile on his face, how he loved to laugh with the other agents, and you noticed it was just you that he was still closed-off and horrid to. That’s when you began to be cruel, began to insult him and scowl right back, mirroring his expressions

You’d never done it before then, but it felt so natural, so deserved. And then it had become second nature, as easy as blinking, or finding someone new to sleep with. It’s even more embarrassing to admit that you’d found yourself, for the first time, having strong and true romantic feelings for someone, and then he shut you down like that. How could you not? With a face like that, and an unwavering passion in those cobalt eyes, how could you not form some semblance of attachment?

You briefly remember the way you’d acted around him, like a giggling schoolgirl who’s just dipped her toes into the dating world. How naive you had been, how foolish. It all just makes you grimace now, fuelling the flames of your hatred all that much more.

He searches your eyes, trying to dig beneath all the malice. As if you’d let him. He must know that to poke the bear is futile at this stage, because he decides to change the topic.

“And what about me proposing? How long have we been married? Where did we go on our honeymoon?” Your faces are so close…if he were half a decent person you wouldn’t leave any room for him to even breathe at this current second.

“Don’t tell me I’m gonna carry all the braincells on this mission, Barnes.” You retreat back to your seat, slumping over yourself, trying to ignore all of the bitter memories that have just been dragged to the forefront of your mind.

A brief silence descends over the two of you, and you swivel your attention once again to the landscape outside, buckling your seatbelt as the flight attendant announces that you’re about to land.

“One day, I asked you over to my apartment, on our three year anniversary. December 22nd. I cooked you your favourite meal, chicken biryani with that raita that you like, and red velvet cake for dessert. It was a candlelit dinner in my tiny apartment, with a red tablecloth the same colour as your dress. After the dinner I asked you to marry me, reciting stanzas and stanzas of prose about how beautiful and amazing you are, and how in love with you I am. Then, we made love until dawn, obviously.”

A smile graces your face at his last words, at how innocent he appears when he refers to having sex as making love. The sentiment is sweet.

His seeming innocence catches you off guard at times — he’s been amongst all the agents and Avengers for eight years now, as opposed to your 13. The agents are always throwing themselves at him, especially those not into women, at all. You’ve often assumed he hooks up with most of them, seeing as Steve’s often recounted stories of what a charmer he was back in the 40s. And when he’s nice, you doubt anyone could resist him.

So why does he seem so new and inexperienced to most things? Another mystery you can’t be asked to solve.

“God, you’re just dying to have sex with me, aren’t you?” You tease, letting your grin mould into something a little more sadistic, indicating that the thick, putrid air of a few minutes ago has passed.

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, the story pretty much requires it.”

You nod in mockery. “Uh huh, of course. You pervert, we’re not going to tell anyone that. The idea of premarital sex will probably give half the kids in those suburbs a heart attack.” His eyes rake up and down your figure, and you give him your most salacious grin. You usually reserve it for men across the bar, when you catch them checking you out. It’s reserved for inviting them over for casual conversation and bathroom sex.

On Bucky? It flusters him to hell and back when he’s on the receiving end of it. Just like it is right now, as he tries desperately to hide the blush that’s spreading quickly across his cheeks. He swallows, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob against his throat in an almost predatory manner.

It’s in moments like these you’ve often thought about hate sex. Specifically with Bucky, about what it would be like to pull on his hair, to boss him around like you usually enjoy to. Would he listen to you? Or would he bark orders of his own at you, gripping at every inch of you desperately? But you’re scared, because he’s the first person to ever make you want to pursue them romantically, and you’re scared all the hate will melt away with every gentle yet scorching touch, leaving you vulnerable.

You hate being vulnerable.

“We’ve only been married a month, and we went to Spain for our honeymoon. We just got back two weeks ago to finish packing.” He completes, and it seems simple enough. You notice how his voice shakes ever so slightly, still influenced by the way you look at him, and the way he refuses to make eye contact.

“Sounds good. We’ll stick with that then.” You offer, not bothering to look at him twice as you leave the jet and step into the family sedan that Bucky’ll be driving.

You sigh as you sink into the passenger seat in a car that smells too clean, staring out the window as if bored. You wonder if either of you will be able to not kill the other in these six months.

In your mind, you either fuck or fight it out. There’s no other way you’re emerging.

You wonder which option he’d choose, studying him as he settles in beside you, so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s taken off his leather jacket and shoved it to the backseat, exposing his arms and—his left arm is no longer metal.

He catches you staring — he’s always looking for an excuse to stare at you. “Fury handed it to me after the initial briefing. It fits over my arm like a second skin, so it looks normal. I’m supposed to be trying to get back that normal life, remember? Fury said it’ll help disillusion and distance me from The Winter Soldier in these civilian’s minds.” Somehow, it sends a pang through your heart, still, at the way he’s trying to not lose his shit and start crying at even the thought that they’ll still see him as an empty weapon, a vessel for unimaginable evil. You soften.

“Here, let me drive — you just learned what a car was, like, six months ago. Plus it’s manual. I know Steve only let you learn automatic. Come on, stop being a bitch and switch with me.” You’re goading him, holding out your hand for the keys as he blindly stares at the console, trying to process how you know that fact about him.

Steve and you are close, best friends even. That’s why. He turns off the engine and does as he’s told, mind probably currently too occupied with awful memories to register you’re being soft with him.

As you settle into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors as he stares down into his lap. “Besides, when you walk in there unarmed and without a murderous look on your face, they’ll know, James. It’s been years.” Your tone is too gentle, too gentle considering your history. But you can’t help yourself, and you let your hand gently touch his arm even though he won’t feel it. He looks up, and you see his eyes brimming with tears.

“But what if it doesn’t work? What if they see right through me?” His voice is so small, unlike any tone he’s ever taken with you.

“It will. It will work, they won’t see right through you. If they know who you are, you know they followed your trial, your rehab in Wakanda. They know you were pardoned. And they’ll know when you treat all the kids with respect, because you’re good with them. When you help the seniors cross the road, when you help the sexy neighbour with her groceries. They’ll know, because you’re good. You have a good heart, and you treat almost everyone you know with nothing but love and affection. Just because I’m not on the receiving end of it, doesn’t mean I can’t see that. Trust your gut, James. It’ll all be fine. And if I can pull off being in love with you, they’ll definitely see it too. I’ll sing your praises to everyone in town, I’ll do everything to convince them if I have to. Because that’s the only way our cover will work. This is official business, James. This isn’t you and me around the Tower, or sparring in the gym. Just trust me here, okay?” You don’t know why you’re sympathetic, you don’t know why you care. You don’t know why you’re saying all of these things like you’re falling in love with him, all you know if that he’s falling apart and you have to try and stop it.

You have to try and be there for him, gripping his hand between both of yours, trying to offer a physical reminder that he’s in the car with you, not back in that horrid lab or in the sterile courtroom as some bald, red-faced lawyer tries to write him off as the most heinous cretin to disgrace this planet. You look at him and he looks at you and the tension is almost palpable, like you could cut it with a knife. You have no idea what’s happening to you.

“Okay.” He says quietly, his thumb stroking the side of your hands. Sam beeps the horn behind you, him and Steve posing as the movers and carriers you and James have hired.

It startles you out of the moment, reminding you of your rapid heart, beating so fervently against the jail of your ribs that you feel it in your fingertips. You turn to the road ahead, signalling to the PARKER PACKERS AND MOVERS truck towing behind you. You swallow, hopefully taking any softness for Bucky along with it.

It’s going to be a long six months.

NEXT PART

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #x plus size reader #marvel #k's writing corner #bucky barnes fanfiction

65 notes · View notes

defectivevillain · 5 months

Text

struck by your lightning, ch3

reader’s pronouns: he/him

summary: You decide to take advantage of the moment’s respite you’re given. “Okay. Hey, how are you?” You look up, only to find yourself staring at Kaminari Denki. The Kaminari Denki—the idol with over thirty million listeners and sold-out concerts across the world. You’re certain that you’re going to fumble your words several times in front of him. (You're a reporter working at the red carpet of a national award gala. You've convinced yourself that you're doing just fine. At least, you're doing fine until you interview Kaminari.)

here’s chapter one and chapter two [you’ll want to read these first, otherwise this won’t make much sense]

this is a chat-hybrid fic and the formatting was mostly made for ao3. it’s a lil wonky here, so here’s the ao3 version if you’d prefer to read that :)

since it's been a while, here's a refresh of what happened in ch1-2: The reader works at DoubleVision agency and is invited to interview artists at an award show. His interview and interaction with Kaminari quickly goes viral—both because of his flustered reaction at the end and the “Love ya”s exchanged at the end. The reader tries not to think too much of it, until he opens his phone to find a message from an unknown number who proves to be Kaminari himself. The two quickly grow to be friends through frequent text conversations. Kaminari reveals that he has your placard for the event and plans for the two of you to meet up together at the nearby coffee shop…

now, onto the story....

Tokyo Entertainment Fix | @tokentfix

Popstar Kaminari Denki Spotted with Reporter from Awards Gala at Coffee Shop!

[ coffee1.jpg ] [ coffee2.jpg ] [ coffee3.jpg ]

89k comments | 486k retweets | 1.8m likes

____________

jj | @dendendenki

ARE Y’ALL SEEING THIS

409 comments | 3k retweets | 18.2k likes

i said what i said. | @ urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki

seeing what

5 comments | 21 retweets | 451 likes

jj | @dendendenki

In response to @ urfavescouldnever

THIS [tokentfix.twt] [newsarticle.link]

61 comments | 1.3k retweets | 8k likes

i said what i said. | @ urfavescouldnever

In response to @dendendenki

I’M SEEING IT NOW HOLY SHIT

4 comments | 808 retweets | 1.6k likes

_______

Direct Message

You: have you seen…?

Kaminari Denki: the news article about us?

You: yeah

Kaminari Denki: ah yeah, i saw it

You: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: WHAT

You: i’m sorry

Kaminari Denki: no no no

Kaminari Denki: stop that immediately

You: y??

Kaminari Denki: bc it's not ur fault!!!

Kaminari Denki: if anything, i should be the one apologizing

You: why??? you didn’t do anything

Kaminari Denki: NEITHER DID YOU

You: ah damn it i see what you did there

Kaminari Denki: damn right

Kaminari Denki: but srsly, i hope the article isn’t messing anything up for u

You: i was gonna say the same to you

Kaminari Denki: oh pls, this kind of shit happens to me all the time

Kaminari Denki: but seriously, are you doing ok?

You: yep all good

You: it’s just more funny than anything else

Kaminari Denki: is the thought of dating me really so bad :(

You: oh pls, that’s not what i meant

You: i just meant celebrity culture in general… like they’re so obsessed with your relationship status and it’s kinda weird>??

Kaminari Denki: yeah…

You: sigh

You: so glad i’m just a lowly reporter 🙏

Kaminari Denki: hey, don’t jinx it

Kaminari Denki: plus, haven’t you looked on twt recently

Kaminari Denki: fans are shipping us together

Kaminari Denki: pretty sure there are stan accounts dedicated to you now

Kaminari Denki: not that i would know

Kaminari Denki: or follow them

You: fr??

Kaminari Denki: fr fr

You: deadass?

Kaminari Denki: on god

You: i hate us

Kaminari Denki: same

__________

Thankfully, that article about Kaminari and you doesn’t actually change much. You go about business as usual, albeit with a strange sense of guilt prickling along your skin when your mind is unoccupied. You throw yourself into your work and try to bury the emotions, but they are never truly extinguished.

Your conversations with Kaminari are far rarer now, especially as the both of you get even busier. Kaminari is working on releasing his next album and you’re pitching new stories and writing to old acquaintances for features. Even though you throw yourself into work, you still find your thoughts returning to Kaminari. Your relationship with him is currently undefined—your meeting the other day felt like a date, but neither of you acknowledged it. You would love to be more than friends with Kaminari, but you also know that someone as well-known as him doesn’t exactly have the freedom to pursue a relationship and a music career at the same time. Resigned, you slowly push away thoughts of Kaminari until you think you get a good handle on your emotions.

Until everything you try to suppress comes roaring back.

___________

Kaminari Denki | @kaminaridenki

24 hours. [STATIC.jpg]

203k comments | 1.2m retweets | 4m likes

____________

Kaminari Denki to Release New Album Tomorrow

Arts—Music

2 min ago ᐧ By Janet Drews

Kaminari Denki, award-winning musical artist and popular culture icon, recently announced the release of his new album on Twitter. The Tweet earned over four million likes and 200,000 comments. Listeners are clearly looking forward to the occasion, as #KaminariDenki, #STATIC, and #DenkiAlbum top the Twitter Trending page (#1, #2, and #4, respectively).

Some fans speculate the new album will be an ode to the rumored relationship between Kaminari and the DoubleVision reporter who interviewed him at the award gala [interview.mp4]. The interaction between the singer and the reporter quickly went viral following live coverage of the event. Digital citizens across the platform searched for explanations for the exchange, and Kaminari fans such as user @heyheyh3y discussed their red-carpet conversation.

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y okay but is it just me or was there some tension there… [interview.jpg]: A screenshot of Kaminari standing next to you during the interview. 907 comments | 66k retweets | 256k likes

This album will be a bit different from his previously released music, Kaminari said to Vogue Japan mere days ago. The artist made no mention of a significant other who could bear influence on his new music, despite the fact that he was seen with the DoubleVision reporter at EspressoBeanz but a few days ago—a cafè conveniently located near both DoubleVision agency and UA Entertainment. However, other Kaminari fans, like users @electrstatic and @staticshockwave, weren’t convinced:

⚡⚡| @electrstatic y’all are making such a huge deal about this whole reporter business, as if the same thing hasn’t happened time and time again with literally anyone kaminari interacts with 31 comments | 23 retweets | 700 likes electric boogaloo | @staticshockwave In response to @electrstatic THANK YOU. like, when he first got Arata as a manager, everyone was going batshit crazy about how they were dating… and they weren’t. and the way anyone breathing in Kaminari’s direction is assumed to be dating him… it’s crazy 0 comments | 8 retweets | 32 likes

Either way, fans across the world are looking forward to the release of new music from Kaminari. His new album, STATIC, will be released on Apple Music, Spotify, Soundcloud, and assorted digital platforms at 3 p.m. JST (approximately 10 a.m. UTC).

__________

Direct Message

You: heyyy, how are you feeling

You: the album releases tmrw, right?

Kaminari Denki: very nervous

Kaminari Denki: and yes, t minus 20 hrs

You: awesome!

You: and rly? why?

Kaminari Denki: well… i worked hard on it, and i want ppl to like it

You: okay

You: will you be disappointed if your fans don’t like it?

Kaminari Denki: a little, yeah

You: but why do you write music? do you write it for them or for yourself?

Kaminari Denki:

You: sorry, that sounds patronizing…

Kaminari Denki: no, you’re right

Kaminari Denki: i think i needed to hear that

You: i mean, you clearly worked very hard on it. i’m sure everyone listening will recognize that.

Kaminari Denki: i hope so

You: they will 😠 and if they don’t, fuck em

Kaminari Denki: damn right

Kaminari Denki: thanks <3

You: ofc! <3

You: i have to go eat dinner, talk soon?

Kaminari Denki: yep,, enjoy your meal

You: tyyy haha

___________

Direct Message

Kaminari Denki: hypothetically speaking

Sero Brain Cells: ok hello to you too

Sero Brain Cells: also bitch do i look like a scientist

Kaminari Denki: hYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING

Kaminari Denki: does a “<3” mean someone is hopelessly in love with me

Sero Brain Cells: jfc

Kaminari Denki: is that a yes

Sero Brain Cells: ur so fuckin whipped

Kaminari Denki: SHUT UP

Kaminari Denki: I TRUSTED YOU

Kaminari Denki: i came to you in my time of weakness

Kaminari Denki: and this is how you repay me

Sero Brain Cells: dude, you gotta tell him at some point

Kaminari Denki: ik…

Sero Brain Cells: and even if you don’t, he’ll probably figure it out soon

Kaminari Denki: wdym

Sero Brain Cells: ur new album.

Kaminari Denki: what about it?

Sero Brain Cells: half of those songs are so clearly about him

Kaminari Denki: nahhhh no way i kept it hella ambiguous

Sero Brain Cells: ambiguous, huh

Kaminari Denki: shut up

Kaminari Denki: … do you really think he’ll notice

Sero Brain Cells: well, i’m not sure

Sero Brain Cells: you both seem a lil oblivious, so it may be fine

Kaminari Denki: hey 😭

Sero Brain Cells: all love

Sero Brain Cells: but also get ur shit together u raging homo (affectionate, non-derogatory)

Kaminari Denki: oh pls, as if you haven’t been pining for shoto for six business years

Sero Brain Cells: HEY

Sero Brain Cells: …HEY

Sero Brain Cells: HEY 💀

Sero Brain Cells: ik ur stressed rn so i’ll let that slide 🤨

Kaminari Denki: ur right, i’m so anxious

Kaminari Denki: sry for taking it out on u, bro

Sero Brain Cells: it’s ok bro

Sero Brain Cells: wanna get ur ass kicked in mariokart?

Kaminari Denki: do i want to kick ur ass in mariokart? absolutely

Sero Brain Cells: we’ll see about that

Kaminari Denki: damn right we will

___________

Kaminari Denki | @kaminaridenki

fucking godly at mariokart [mariokart.jpg]

19k comments | 97k retweets | 347k likes

Sero | @serofucks

In response to @kaminaridenki

oh fuck all the way off, you had steering assist on

3k comments | 45k retweets | 228k likes

@kamisimpsimp

In response to @serofucks

OOOOP

47 comments | 430 retweets | 1.4k likes

surprised pikachu face | @kamipikakami

In response to @kamisimpsimp

gagged and gooped

31 comments | 338 retweets | 2.3k likes

alex | @kaminarunaronari

In response to @kaminaridenki

what really concerns me is that you main lakitu

2k comments | 134k retweets | 765k likes

stream lightning by kaminari! | @heyheyh3y

In response to @kaminaridenki

here we are, anxiously awaiting the new album, and this mf is playing mariokart

21 comments | 208 retweets | 809 likes

@kamisimpsimp

In response to @heyheyh3y

as one does!

0 comments | 46 retweets | 665 likes

___________

Direct Message

You: heyyyy

You: it’s release dayyyyyy

Kaminari Denki: when you when you when you whennnnnnnnnnnnnnfdshfkdjs

You: :0

You: looking forward to it!

Kaminari Denki: :3

(Nine Hours Later)

Direct Message

You: congratulationsssss!!!!

You: i’ll try to find the time to listen to STATIC soon!!!

Kaminari Denki: thanks :)

___________

Kaminari stares down at his phone, watching as fans discuss the new album. He has the album on shuffle in the background as he tries to brainstorm some choreography. Kaminari has absolute faith in the talented choreographers that he works with—but he just feels like he needs to do something to combat the restless energy surging through him.

The feedback on the album so far has been overwhelmingly positive, yet he’s still nervous—as if he’s still waiting for a reaction from someone. Shaking his head, he tries to focus on the choreography he’s creating. But that plan quickly backfires. Within moments, his phone buzzes—breaking him out of his thoughts. Kaminari freezes and immediately grabs it from his pocket, heart thudding rhythmically in his chest as he unlocks his phone and goes to his messages. There’s a series of texts from you:

You: ok, i have time to listen, now! You: gonna listen as i make dinner!!!

Kaminari sighs, trying to calm his racing heart. He doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. Taking a deep breath, he puts his phone back in his pocket and decides to practice some of the choreography for his other songs. Even amidst the music running through the space and the dance moves that seemed etched onto his very skin, Kaminari still can’t help but think of you.

___________

Meanwhile, you’re just getting home from work. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been looking forward to listening to Kaminari’s new album for a bit now. It’s especially thrilling to think that you can discuss it with him afterward—hell, he even seems to be awaiting your feedback. The thought is exciting and nerve-wracking in equal measures.

You decide to change out of your work clothes before starting dinner, so that you don’t have to worry about staining anything. Then, you grab your Bluetooth speaker and place it on the kitchen counter, before pulling up Kaminari’s newest album and tapping on the first song. Immediately, a beautiful, twisting melody reaches your ears and you swear you feel your shoulders begin to relax. You busy yourself with preparing dinner while his voice fills the space.

Safe to say, the album is incredible. You really like each song you’ve listened to so far—and have found yourself saving each of them to various playlists. Even if you hadn’t spoken with Kaminari throughout the period he was working on the album, you would be able to tell that he put a lot of effort into it. As you expected, that effort shows through in each and every song.

His songs are rather hard-hitting, emotionally speaking. The fifth song, traces of you , makes you freeze in place. You have to rewind to listen to one particular portion of the song again:

…and I stand aside

as you’re washed away

with the ebbing tide

I’m so afraid

of falling out of love

Sometimes I look up

at the blinding black night

and the stars seem to whisper

your name in the air

I feel a shiver roll down my spine

I remember your hand in mine,

and I’m just so afraid.

You don’t know how long you stand at the kitchen counter, letting the lyrics slip into your ears and down your skin. This song is so raw and vulnerable. You feel the sudden urge to close your eyes. For a moment, you can almost trick yourself into thinking Kaminari is singing to you, that these lyrics are meant for you and you alone. It’s a foolish thought, but you can’t quite push it away. You feel your eyes burning with unshed tears as you try to picture Kaminari writing down these lyrics. What was he feeling, in those moments? Were his eyebrows furrowed in concentration? Were his hands stained from the still-drying ink of his pen? Was he tapping his foot along to an unheard, not-yet-created melody?

Something blares loudly, tearing you from your reverie. You blink and look around the room, gasping when you realize you completely neglected the pan on the stove. The pan is smoking and you recognize that insufferable sound to be the fire alarm. You’re quick to turn off the burner. The fire isn’t extinguished. Panicking, you race to one of the kitchen cabinets to grab baking soda. Baking soda, quickly , your mind is practically yelling. You grab the baking soda and haphazardly spread it over the grease fire, relief coursing through you when you see the flames begin to die down. When the fire finally subsides, you look down at your attempt at dinner, only to find a charred pile. You shake your head in disbelief and clean up your mess, before grabbing your phone and skipping to the next song.

You don’t make the mistake of attempting to make dinner as you listen to the rest of the album, which is a rather smart move, because the remaining songs are lyrical masterpieces. There isn’t a single song on the album that you don’t like. A small smile growing on your face, you open your messaging app.

___________

Direct Message

You: i love the new album holy shit

Kaminari Denki: really?

You: yesssss omfg absolutely

Kaminari Denki: akjdfkjfskdjfsdlkf

Kaminari Denki: which track is your favorite? for research purposes

You: research purposes? lol

You: my favorite is definitely traces of you

Kaminari Denki: ah, that’s one of my favorites, too!

Kaminari Denki: and lemme just say: i’m so happy you listened! it means the world to me, so thank you <3

You: no need to thank me—just doing my due diligence as a friend! besides, the new album is incredible!

You: and i promise i’m not just saying that to be nice,,, it’s clear you put a lot of effort into it.

Kaminari Denki: ahhh stawp ur gonna make me all flustered xD

You: hahaha

You: i do have one critique, though

Kaminari Denki: ooooh ok i’m listening 👀

You: traces of you needs to come with a warning

Kaminari Denki: for what? shit how did i miss that

You: “warning: will distract you from cooking dinner and nearly burn your home down”

Kaminari Denki: wait

Kaminari Denki: you did notttttt 💀

You: I DID

You: i was so distracted i forgot i was making dinner

Kaminari Denki: omfgggg that’s insane

Kaminari Denki: i’ve heard a lot of things about my music, but never that it almost burned a house down and ruined dinner 😭

You: lmfaooo

Kaminari Denki: i’m so sorry 😭😭

You: it’s not your fault, holy shit

You: don’t feel guilty!!!! if it makes you feel better, it was completely worth it

Kaminari Denki: hmph

You: i wasn’t rly that hungry anyways

Kaminari Denki: hm hm hm hm hmmmmmm

You: whatttt

Kaminari Denki: nothing i gtg

Kaminari Denki is offline.

You: o….kay? …bye?

___________

You exit out of your messaging app and start rummaging through your pantry for something to eat. Nothing sounds very good right now. You don’t have much food left, either—you’re in desperate need of a trip to the grocery store. You’re sure you can make time to go tomorrow, but as for right now… you’re stuck making do with what you have. Truthfully, you’re tempted to order something—but it’s already getting late and you don’t want to wait even longer for a meal when you’re already hungry.

You walk out into your living room and flop onto the couch, trying to distract yourself from the hunger gnawing at your stomach. Admittedly, your abrupt conversation with Kaminari is weighing heavily on your mind too. You eventually scroll through YouTube mindlessly, if only to keep yourself distracted. You’re not sure how long you sit there before there’s a sudden ringing sound. You frown, wondering if you’re hearing things.

The sound occurs again, and you realize that someone must be ringing your doorbell. Squinting in confusion, you head to your front door and peek through the peephole—surprised to find a familiar blond singer standing on your porch. You quickly unlock your front door and swing it open. “Kaminari?” You ask, convinced you’re seeing things. You hadn’t made plans to hang out today, and you assumed that your conversation died off because he was busy.

“Hey,” Kaminari smiles. He’s wearing a sweatshirt and jeans with a pair of colorful sneakers. His bangs are clipped back and his hair is almost glowing in the dim light of your porch. There’s a sheepish smile on his face that is endlessly endearing. “I heard you missed dinner.” He smiles, holding up a few bags of takeout from a restaurant the two of you had spoken about before.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quickly, hoping that you didn’t make him feel as if he had to provide you with dinner. It wasn’t his fault you were distracted.

“I wanted to,” he says with a smile, dispelling your doubts. “I think I remember your order, but…” He trails off, averting his eyes with an embarrassed expression. “I got a few different things, just in case.”

“I could kiss you,” you breathe relievedly, unaware of the flush that adorns Kaminari’s cheeks as he processes that remark. You motion for him to come in, before locking the front door and showing him to the dining room. You leave him to unbag the food, while you grab plates and utensils. “Do you want anything to drink?” You ask from the kitchen.

“What do you have?” Kaminari asks casually.

“Water, soda, sparkling water…” You trail off, looking through your fridge for anything else you may have laying around.

“Water’s fine,” he smiles. You roll your eyes and grab another glass, filling up waters for you both before returning to the table. Kaminari wasn’t kidding when he said he bought a few different things—as it’s all laid out on your table, it looks as if he bought half the menu. You return to the kitchen and grab the plates and utensils you gathered earlier, before heading back. Unsurprisingly, the pile of food on the table doesn’t get any smaller.

“This is a lot of food,” you remark cautiously. Realistically speaking, there’s no way you’ll be able to finish all of this, and you feel slightly guilty.

“Oh, yeah,” Kaminari nods, “I figured we would have enough for leftovers, and stuff.” You nod in agreement, before busying yourself with making a plate.

“So,” you say, once the two of you are settled in and have begun eating. You didn’t realize just how hungry you were until you took a bite of the food. There’s an inexplicable tension hovering over the air, and you’re unsure if you’re imagining it or not. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Kaminari responds with a nod. “Really good,”

“Good!” You smile, taking another bite. “Are you topping the charts already?”

He smiles bashfully, poking at his food with a fork. “I think so… yeah.” He’s so humble, and you can’t help but think it’s rather admirable.

“That’s so cool,” you remark, “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, I’m happy, too.” He smiles briefly, before looking back down at his food. The happiness in his expression almost seems to flicker for a moment, and the grin on his lips suddenly looks strained. You frown. At first, you want to put that sight down to your imagination; but when the silence stretches on for a while and he doesn’t make a move to continue speaking, you decide to acknowledge it.

“Are you sure?” You blurt out, before you can contemplate the consequences of speaking so freely. Kaminari looks at you in confusion and you grimace. “Sorry. It’s just- You seem a little… off, I guess.”

“I’m good,” he reassures you with a small nod. The gesture is not very convincing.

“Okay,” you say, not wanting to push him further. If there’s something he doesn’t want to talk about, you’re not going to force it out of him. After a few moments, your conversation returns to normal. You still have a lingering suspicion that there’s something weighing on his mind, but you decide to forget about it.

Overall, your dinner is pleasant. You get the chance to ask Kaminari a few questions about the album, and you really enjoy seeing his eyes sparkle as he goes into in-depth explanations of the meanings behind his songs. It feels like you’re seeing a side of him that very few people get to see—but you don’t want to flatter yourself.

Kaminari offers to help you with the dishes when you’re both finished eating, but you quickly refuse and promise him you’ll finish them quickly. You run water over the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher, promising yourself to run it later that night. When you return to the table, you’re surprised to find Kaminari staring ahead with a troubled expression on his face. His hands are clasped on the table and his lips are pulled in a thin line.

Before you can even begin to ask, he’s filling the silence. “You were right,” Kaminari admits. He sounds a little strange—almost as if he’s nervous. You stare at him expectantly. “There is something bothering me.”

The tortured expression on his face is a bit worrying. “Well, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” You feel the need to remind him. While you’re concerned about what could be distressing him, you know that sometimes, it’s too painful to talk about those types of things.

But Kaminari surprises you with his response. “I want to,” he reassures you. You watch as he pushes himself to his feet and stares down at the table, running a finger along the wood. “I’ve just… been trying to figure out how to say it.”

“Take your time,” you say. “I’m not in a rush.” Kaminari nods appreciatively.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to hear, in all honesty. But what he says next feels entirely unreal. “When I first met you, I was attracted to you,” Kaminari chokes out, looking at the ceiling as if nervous to meet your eyes. “I sort of expected it to fizzle, because… well, I didn’t know you all that well. But once we started talking more, I realized that my feelings weren’t going away. While I just knew you as the alluring reporter before, I now knew you as this… this incredible person.” You stare at him in shocked silence.

“You’re so… You’re kind, smart, and passionate. You have a wicked sense of humor and I always look forward to hearing from you. I…

“I’m not sure how familiar you are with me and my career, but… Truthfully, I hit a bit of a rough spot. My last album was a few years ago and I was convinced that I wouldn’t be able to write anything new. But then I met you, and got to know you, and all of a sudden, I was writing all the time.

“Suddenly, I had an entire album—filled with songs that I wrote while thinking about you. And I didn’t know what to do. I had already tried to bury my feelings for you, and it clearly hadn’t worked at all. I assumed you didn’t feel the same as I did. And I’m still not sure, of course.

“But when you sent those messages earlier… I felt something snap in me. It was like, one moment I was staring down at my phone, and the next, I was walking into that restaurant you were talking about.

“And tonight, I’ve been trying to keep it together… But it’s been nearly fucking impossible. I see you across the table and I can’t help but think that this is how I want to spend the rest of my life—sneaking glances at you, and hearing about your day at work…

“Not to mention, the whole Sero thing… It was stupid. But when you said you liked his music, my heart just dropped. I felt like… I don’t know. I felt like I lost you. Even though you weren’t mine to lose.”

“Anyway,” Kaminari says, shaking his head before meeting your eyes. He looks simultaneously more relieved and more nervous than before. “I just had to get that out. And now we can pretend I never said anything.” He shakes his head and fiddles with the strings of his hoodie.

You’re still reeling from everything he just said, but you’re quick to dismiss his assumptions. “What?” You exclaim. “No, Kaminari, I have feelings for you too,” you say. He stares at you with wide eyes. “It’s been so fun getting to know you. You’re just… you’re so bright and energetic, passionate, and good-hearted… I was so nervous when I first met you, because it was my first time ever being on a red carpet… but you made me feel more confident, just by being yourself.”

“And when I got distracted listening to your music earlier… It was because I was thinking of you, and thinking that, somehow, you could be singing just to me. That you could have written that song… just for me. And I know it’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid,” Kaminari interjects, before you can spiral into further self-deprecation. “I just told you, I was thinking of you when I wrote them. All of them.” The lyrics flicker before your eyes at rapid speed, as you remember all the words that felt too vulnerable to ever be yours. You think about how you felt as you were cooking dinner—that tight feeling in your chest as you pretended that everything was fine, as you pretended that you were okay with the idea of Kaminari writing those songs while thinking of someone else. Before you can contemplate your next move, you’re surging forward—and Kaminari is too. Your hands cradle his cheeks as you kiss him, and he tugs you impossibly closer with his hands on your waist. His touch sends pleasant shivers down your spine.

“I guess the fans were right, huh,” you remark with amusement once you break apart.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Kaminari says, his eyes gleaming. He takes a deep breath, his hands still latched on your waist (as if he doesn’t want to let you go). Indecision draws his lips together into a flat line. “Are you sure you want to do this? Being in a relationship with me… It’s going to be different. I- I can’t pretend that I have any privacy whatsoever, or a super accommodating schedule, or-”

“Of course I want to do this,” you immediately say, before he can continue. “More than anything.”

Kaminari’s hands migrate up your shoulders and towards the nape of your neck. He leans closer until your foreheads are touching. “I’m just so afraid.” He whispers, so quietly that you nearly convince yourself you didn’t hear it. (The stars seem to whisper your name in the air… I feel a shiver roll down my spine, I remember your hand in mine, and I’m just so afraid). You pull him into a hug.

“Me too,” you admit in a breath against his shoulder. Kaminari mutters something into your shoulder, but it’s incomprehensible. “Hey, if we can get five and a half million people to watch us stumble through an interview, I think we can do this.” The singer huffs a laugh and pulls back, his hand rising to your cheek and his thumb running across your skin. There’s a smile on his face—one of unmistakable fondness and affection. You lean forward to break the distance between you once more, a euphoric feeling settling in your chest and a smile growing on your face.

endnotes:

i really snuck Seroroki in there, mhwhahaha.

this took so fuckin long to format on here (I had to format it AGAIN despite already devoting time to doing that on ao3), pls show some love if you enjoy it... i'm begging

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat anddd @alex12ander @7heehee7 @the-lurking-await-you since y'all commented on part two

#defectivevillain #male reader #transmasc reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader #mha x male reader #Kaminari x reader #kaminari x male reader #kaminari denki #Kaminari Denki x male reader #kaminari x transmasc reader #I deserve the biggest award for dedicating even MORE time to formatting this on tumblr

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moody-alcoholic · 29 days

Text

Special Delivery Service

Chapter 11 - The Funeral

AN: I have whatever the opposite of writers block is. I can't stop writing. I'm going to ride this wave as long as it lasts...

Summary: Simon x Reader, 3.4k words. You're trying to move on after your brothers death, that includes trying to overcome some fears, and learning to cope with new ones. CW: +18 MDNI explicit content. smoking, alcohol, mentions of fictional terrorist attack, funeral, mourning, hurt/comfort, smut, oral (F receiving), panic attack during sex, stopping sex, mentions of abusive ex, mental health, trauma.

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Enjoy <3

It’s not really a funeral, there’s no body, no coffin to bury at the end. It had been a week since your brother had passed. Your mum was a broken mess. She won’t leave the house, sleeps in your brothers bed, barely speaks. At one point it was like she was wasting away.

You’ve had more time on your hands recently with Simon going back to active duty. He’s been spending so much time away from home you’re lucky if you see him more then a few days a week. He’s here now though, arm round your waist as you suck on your cigarette under the tree.

The Met needed Dylan’s body. Needed it for evidence, as soon as the machine was turned off and the life left his body it felt like there were already police there to take it away. Your mother screamed at them, bone chilling howling as they took him. Then she stopped talking.

You thought planning a memorial service would give her some closure. It distracted her at least for a few hours when you would visit, you would make sure she ate, fed her cats and help her decide which flower arrangements she wanted. It kept her busy, kept you busy.

It was a small gathering, at the church your mother goes to. This place has been a God send, literally. They’ve been looking after her, rotating round to see her, make sure she’s safe. The vicar is amazing, Sharron, she’s been getting your mother out the house at least a few times a week, definitely on Sundays for church.

There are about 20 people in total all turning up and making their way into the church. Your mother was already inside being comforted by friends. You rub the stub of the cigarette out on the tree, looking up at Simon. He looks sad, tired, you almost want to tell him to just go home and rest but selfishly you need him to be here.

You take his hand slipping your fingers between his and walk into the church. You walk all the way down the centre aisle to take a seat next to your mother. You rest your hand on her thigh keeping your other hand in Simon’s grip.

You watch as Sharron reads from the bible, tells stories you and your mother had told her about Dylan. You look round, there are more then 20 people here, some are young sitting sheepishly in the back with stoic faces. They must have been his uni friends. The ones who weren't with him on the train, weren't killed along side him.

You wonder if they feel guilty, you feel guilty. You never confirmed with Simon, or John if the people in France where the same people responsible for the attack. If they were maybe you could have stopped them, maybe if you hadn't hidden in the bathroom, maybe your brother would still be alive.

You squeeze Simon’s hand and he squeezes back. Simon said he was going to get them. He said he would get you closure. You wish you could get your mother closure. You don’t even know what that means anymore. You lean your head on your mother’s shoulder as a slideshow starts playing with pictures of Dylan, some of them have you in, some your mum and dad. Sharron is still talking, it’s happy stories. Happy stories for a sad occasion, that’s how you want to remember him though. Your happy younger brother.

——————————

2 Weeks later.

Simon is away again. He sprinted out the flat in the middle of the night and you haven’t heard from him in 3 days. That’s the worst part. He won’t talk about work much but you just let yourself be there for him when he needs it.

When he comes home tired you make sure he has food to eat and someone to cuddle up to. You hadn’t been at work since they went back to active duty there hasn’t been time. John told you he would keep you on payroll, it should only take a month or so.

You said you could get another job but he wouldn't hear of it insisting it wasn’t a problem and that you should take the time off to grieve. You spent most of your days waiting for Simon, watching TV and visiting your mum. She had a good support system from people, her church getting involved with looking after her.

There’s a knock at your door. You get up looking through the peep hole. It’s Johnny you open the door letting him in. You were hoping it was Simon even though you know he has a key, its the longest he's been away.

“Hey lass, Simon’s stuck doing paperwork, he told me to bring you food, and let you know he’s okay.” He says holing up a bag filled with what smells Chinese food.

“Sorry the place is a mess.” You say.

“Ah, looks like my place after a deployment.” Johnny says.

“I’ve been missing work.” You say going into the kitchen as Johnny takes his boots off. “What do you want to drink?”

“Got any beer? I could use it.” You open the fridge looking at the beer you have for Simon, even though he never drinks it. You grab one and a glass of wine bringing it over to the coffee table as Johnny sits on the floor, back up against the sofa opening the styrofoam food containers. You hand him a beer can and he cracks it open watching the news on the TV. It’s been 3 weeks since the attack but it’s still all over the news.

“Guess you haven’t caught the bad guys yet?” You say sitting on the sofa and shoving a prawn cracker in your mouth.

“Not yet lass, that’s why I’m here and Si’s stuck doing paperwork, instead of making up for lost time.” He looks back at you winking. You had still not had sex with Simon. It’s been almost 3 months, you feel guilty. Maybe this was good maybe this was healing, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

“Think he’ll be back tonight?” You ask picking up a portion of noodles.

“Could be, ‘pends on how long Price keeps him for. Mind if I change the channel?” He asks reaching for the remote. You nod at him, he flicks through until he finds something that isn't the news. Johnny sits their eating his curry as he answers the questions on the panel show.

“Where were you?” You ask him, now seems like a good enough time then ever to snoop about their work.

“Here and there.” Johnny says popping a chicken ball in his mouth.

“Are you getting closer to finding them?” You ask.

“Maybe, I reckon another few weeks and we’ll be hot on their trail.” Johnny says. You look over at the game show playing on the TV, it was nice having someone here even if it wasn’t Simon. It’s been lonely while he’s been away.

“How is Simon?”

“He’s fine, he’s always fine, sick and tired of being in meetings I bet.” Johnny chuckles dipping his chicken balls in the sweet and sour sauce.

“I always imagined you’re out there shooting at some terrorists in Iran or something.” You say, Johnny looks back at you tipping his head to the side.

“You’ve been watching too many films.” Johnny says turning back to the TV. He’s not wrong it’s not like you’ve had much else to do. No work, no Simon, nothing to do but sit around waiting for him to come home. You worry about him, worry he’ll get hurt, the thought of him dying makes you feel ill. You finish your glass of wine to squash the feeling. Simon is safe.

——————————

The flat door opening wakes you, you don’t remember falling asleep. You look over seeing Simon walk in. Johnny gets up off the floor and you look at the containers of food. Your belly is full Simon is back safe and the half bottle of wine you’ve had is relaxing you. Johnny pats Simon on the shoulder he looks over winking at you as he pulls his shoes on.

“We’ve got food.” You say pointing at the table.

“I think LT wants to skip straight to the desert love.” Johnny says throwing his jacket on.

“Go home MacTavish.” Simon says tutting and rolling his eyes. He comes over to you you tip your head back letting him kiss you on the forehead.

“I’ve missed you.” You say breathing him in, letting the smell of cigarettes and gunpowder fill your nose. His arms travel down your body as hugs you from behind his strong arms wrapping round you. It feels good, feeling him touching you again, his strong heavy presence.

“I’m sorry, hopefully this is the last time I’ll be away for this long.” He says moving into the kitchen. You get up walking into the kitchen wrapping your arms round his waist as he gets a glass of water. You press your head up against his back, you hum enjoying feeling him again.

“You okay?” Simon says turning round and wrapping his arms round you. You smile looking up at him. He smiles back bringing his lips down to kiss you. You let him moving your arms round his neck. You relax into him pushing your fingers through his hair, it feels good his hair is thick it’s getting longer. You can feel him smile as he play with your tongue. You break away looking in his eyes, this feels good. You want to do this, you want to try.

“Can we go to the bedroom. I want to try.” You say, stroking his cheek. He looks round your face for a second leaning down to give you a quick kiss on the lips before nodding.

You lead him into the bedroom. Don’t over think it, don’t over think it. You pull him over to the bed trying not to shake, gulping down the dread letting it sit low in your stomach. His fingers drop to your waist, his thumb digs below your waist band.

You let him as you move back up to kiss him. It’s long and slow, it feels good, you hold onto the good feeling as one of his hands goes up your top. You’re used to this feeling, he's touched your breasts before, it’s a familiar feeling, his hand is warm. His thumb brushes over your nipple. You pull away from the kiss.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m okay.” You say, you believe it for a second, you believe it. You hold onto that feeling. His smile makes you happy as he kisses your forehead.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.” He says pulling his hand out from down under your shirt.

“I’m ready.” You breathe, nodding. Don’t overthink it. You let him drop your sweat pants. It’s the first time you’ve been this exposed in front of him. The sudden cold on your thighs makes you shiver. His hands stay on your waist as you step out your pants.

His hands are slow, soft, resting on you as he guides you to the bed. You sit down when you hit it, he looks down at you pulling his shirt over his head. Your hand reaches up to his stomach running your fingers over his rugged skin.

Your hand reaches up and lands between his pecs you feel his heart thumping. You look up at him. He wants this, you have to be brave for him. You let him take your shirt off raising your arms as he pulls it off slowly. You sit there as he looks down at you smiling. You’re topless in front of him watching the smile fill his face as his eyes soak you in.

“Lay down, I’ll go slow.” He says his fingers brushing your arms. You nod pulling your body into bed, he walks round to the other side, the side he usually sleeps on. He slips in next to you while you’re still looking at the ceiling. You feel his hands down your stomach to the hem of your underwear.

You hold your breath as his hand slips under them, he does go slow his hand is warm as his finger presses just past your folds. He stops as he brushes your clit. You let out a breath, he doesn’t move his hand any further.

“What do you want?” he asks, you look up at him.

“I don’t know, I want you to touch me. It feels good.” You say. He smiles as he starts rubbing little circles, it does feel good. Don’t overthink it. His fingers are warm, large, rough but gentle.

“I’m sorry I’m not…wet.” You say feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

“I don’t care, you feel good. Relax.” He says kissing your cheek. You tip your head back feeling him slip another finger through your folds. Your heart is pounding in your chest but he keeps his fingers moving. Before you can stop you spread your legs, parting your knees. It feels good, his fingers sure and firm as he presses down.

Your breath hitches in your throat it’s the first time in years you’ve been touched with such affection. By someone who loves you and cares about your feelings more then his own. Now is the time to be selfish, Don’t overthink it.

“I want you,” you say, he looks over at you not moving his hand from your pants.

“I’m right here,” he bends down and kisses you. His lips are soft, gentle just like his fingers. This is safe, you’re safe, don’t overthink it. His hand makes it down to your entrance. He just rubs over it, coating the tips of fingers in what little slick is there.

“It feels good,” you say hoping it will make him relax you can feel his shoulders tense against you.

“Yeah? You just want my fingers or I can make you feel even better with my tongue.” You look up at him, you can see the glint in his eyes.

“Is your tongue is as soft as your fingers?” You say, a horrible attempt at dirty talk.

“Softer.” He smiles. He pulls his hand out your pants shifting his body down so his head is parallel with your waist. You let him crawl over you hooking the sides of your underwear pulling them down. You let him moving your legs together so he can slip them off easily. He crawls back up between your legs as you spread them for him. He kisses your thighs, making gentle moaning noises as he works his way up, the throbbing between your legs is unavoidable.

You can feel his hot breath on your skin, each brush of his lips sends vibrations up your legs. The feeling makes you throw your head back into the pillows. You try to relax letting his tongue press over your entrance, it’s warm and just like he said soft. He moans into you, it feels like he’s drinking you up.

“You’re doing great.” He says his mouth leaving you taking the opportunity to move up to your clit. His lips lock around it, wetting it with his tongue, it feels amazing, it’s like fireworks shooting up your body.

“Simon..” You moan. His lips press around your clit so he can suck your sensitive bud in his mouth. His hands grip your waist holding you in place as he licks around you.

“You feel good.” You breathe enjoying his face between your legs, his tongue is warm, slow, soft, just like he said. Your heart is racing, your breathing picking up. You trust Simon, this is safe, this is good. Don’t overthink it. You melt into the overwhelming feeling of pleasure, its a feeling you haven’t felt in years.

You almost don’t believe it’s real your breathing stops but Simon’s mouth doesn't, each press of his hot tongue against your clit makes you moan. Maybe you could cum but you don’t want something doesn’t feel right.

“Simon-” Your voice catches in your throat. This feels wrong, you don’t know why. It’s not Simon between your legs anymore it’s your ex. His moaning, his grip. It’s not Simon anymore it’s suffocating.

“Stop!” The word leaves your lips, you don’t even register it, it’s like you’re floating above your body. There’s nothing, just the pit in your stomach and the pain in your chest as your lungs burn.

“Breathe, Baby breathe!” It’s Simon’s voice, his face is next to yours, hands on your face. You can’t see him the room is dark. There is a throbbing between your legs. Did he stop? You breathe out. You can feel a cold breeze between over your thighs, over your soaking clit, it makes you shiver.

“You’re okay, baby, breathe for me.” Your body snaps up in the bed, Simon holds you up as your hyperventilate in his arms. You gasp into his chest, eyes wide, what happened? He holds you tight his arms wrapped around you, you hear his heart beating in his chest.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, deep breaths, in and out...” It’s Simon’s voice, it’s Simon next you. Tears run down your face as you suck in breaths of air following Simon’s instructions. It’s Simon you’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay…

——————————

You don’t remember falling asleep, your eyes flutter open. Simon is laid next to you his arm spread across your stomach. He’s sleeping peacefully. Guilt washes over you, you remember last night.

You made him stop, he tried and you made him stop. He’s snoring as you pull yourself from under his embrace. You tip-toe out the bed making sure you don’t wake him. You stand in the doorway as you watch him sleep.

You’re surprised he hasn’t woken up, then you remember how late he came home last night. You head into the kitchen filling the kettle. You open the fridge seeing the Chinese take away packed up in the fridge. He did that Simon did that, Simon took care of you.

There are no bruises on you. There is nothing. You said stop and he stopped. You go back to the bedroom leaning in the doorway. You look at Simon sleeping, his arm stretched over the empty spot in the bed. It makes you smile. The kettle clicks and you watch as he stirs in the bed. He reaches out trying to feel for you, his eyes moving across the room as he lands on you.

“Hey,” he says throwing the covers back and swinging his body out the bed walking round to you.

“Hey, morning, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You say his hands wrapping round your waist. His lips press on your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” You say, he holds your shoulders watching your expression.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” His hands cup your face.

“I’m so proud of you.” He says looking in your eyes.

“You go away for so long, I don’t know if you’ll ever come back.” You say. He sighs pulling you into his arms.

“I know, I’m sorry, It’ll be over soon I promise.” You wrap your arms round him. You want to believe him. He holds you like that and you close your arms enjoying the feeling of his body being pressed up against yours. His phone ringing breaks him away. You sigh as he walks over to the bedside table to pick it up. You leave him going out into the kitchen to make the cups of tea.

You know what his phone ringing means though he has to leave again, and you won’t know where or how long for. He’s barely been back in your flat for 12 hours and he’ll be going home to get ready to leave again. You hear him walk over to you he wraps his arms round your stomach kissing your neck.

“When do you have to leave?” You ask stirring the tea.

“We have to leave whenever you’re ready.” He says. You turn in his arms frowning at him.

“We’re going to Manchester, I have a flat there you can stay at, I’ll be home every night.” He smiles kissing you on the nose. You smile back, that does sound nice, he’ll be working but you’ll get to see him.

“Why Manchester?” You ask, you don’t think he will tell you. Expecting him to go on a rant about confidentiality again.

“That’s where their next target is.” He says as a matter of fact. The feeling of dread comes back the thought of him getting hurt rushes into your mind. He smiles rubbing your cheek. You turn picking up his cup of tea handing it to him.

Maybe you don’t want to go to Manchester, maybe you want to stay away, as far away as possible. The last thing you want to think about is Simon laying in a hospital bed like your brother was. You take your mug going to sit next to him at the table. You lean up against him and he puts his arm round you.

“What to try again tonight?” You ask trying to lighten the mood. He kisses the top of your head.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need.” It makes you smile as you slip your hand in his.

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#call of duty #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost cod #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut

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agendabymooner · 3 months

Text

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (9)

toto w. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Tilly goes on a date with Toto after responding to an email that could potentially change the course of her career. Two words that explained their relationship and her career: Serious business.

Content warning: Use of explicit language, never edited these, Lewis Hamilton being a resident piece of shit, 2014, flirting, banters

Note: This is very old. A very old draft (I have two more chapters to post hehe), I know better than what I knew a year ago so please... bear with my old writings. enjoy xx

colour me your colour masterlist

f1 masterlists: a - n o - z

SENDER: Emily Smith [esmithªhearthautog.com]

TO: Tilly Marie [tilly.fordhearthªhotmail.com]

[CONFIDENTIAL] Meeting Request: Paperwork Signing for Hearth Automotive Groups

Dear Miss Tilly Hearth,

I hope this email finds you well. We kindly request a meeting to discuss and sign the necessary paperwork regarding the ownership of Hearth Automotive Groups and its subsidiaries. The office was recently acquired to make certain changes as the owner, Mr. Julius Hearth, was given the promotion in an association of a different field. He believes that it is in his best interest to rename the owner and shareholders of his business and would like you to get involved in the process as well.

To ensure a smooth process, we would greatly appreciate your presence during this meeting. It will provide an opportunity to address any concerns or queries you may have regarding the ownership transfer.

Proposed Meeting Details:

Date: July 8th, 2014

Time: 15:00 PM

If the proposed date and time are inconvenient, please let us know your availability, and we will do our best to accommodate your schedule.

Please bring any relevant identification documents and additional paperwork related to the ownership of the company and its subsidiaries.

Kindly confirm your availability and preferred meeting details by the sixth. You can reach me directly to this email. A notary will be contacted as soon as we’ve gotten a response from you.

Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter. Finalizing the ownership paperwork is crucial for the smooth operation of Hearth Automotive Groups and its affiliated companies.

We look forward to meeting with you soon.

Best regards,

Emily J. Smith

Secretary to the Chairman

Hearth Automotive Groups

SENDER: Tilly Marie [tilly.fordhearthªhotmail.com]

TO: Emily Smith [esmithªhearthautog.com]

RE: [CONFIDENTIAL] Meeting Request: Paperwork Signing for Hearth Automotive Groups

Good evening,

I will be there at the expected date and time. I am also expecting for Julius Hearth to be there if I were to sign and if I don’t get any confirmation from anyone prior to the meeting or I get a news that he wouldn’t be there because he couldn’t find any time, then consider my obligation nullified. I wouldn’t find any time for his company either.

Thank you.

Kind regards,

Tilly Marie.

FRISKY TILLY: The Hearth Heiress Celebrates Red Bull’s P3 Finish with a Shoey

“Danny Ric and Lewis Hamilton brought the fun out of the distressed writer.”

“You have to admit, that’s a good headline,” Lewis says to me as he leans forward, eyes peering down on my screen as he reads the article. “Tilly Hearth, daughter of FIA Executive Julius Hearth, had gone wild as she, Red Bull’s Daniel Ricciardo celebrated his P3 finish alongside her best friend, the winner of the Silverstone Grand Prix, Lewis Hamilton— oh look, that's me!”

Locking my phone shut, I look at Lewis with a frown. “You need to stop giving me that attitude,” Lewis huffs out petulantly, “I haven’t done anything today but land in the first place. And why aren’t you getting enough appetizer from the buffet? Haven’t you mentioned that you’re going to snack on some stuffed mushrooms?”

Right.

It’s been an hour since we left the venue. Now we’re inside a restaurant, feasting and celebrating Lewis’ home race. Regardless of whether or not he’d win, it’s a tradition to celebrate his home race with his family. I’m fortunate enough to celebrate with them this time. Plus, my sisters and mother are here—making Lewis even happier.

Stevie is sitting next to Lewis and on his right happens to be me. I’ve been trying my best to socialize with his sisters and brother, but my mind is occupied by one thought. Toto Wolff.

Of course he isn’t here. It’s a family dinner. But his tall figure remains memorable (and his godlike figure after he was sprayed with champagne) and our plan for tonight remains in my mind. Fuck, I do need to get out soon.

Clearing my throat, Nicholas shoots me a questioning look as I lean forward and murmur, “I need to get out soon, Nico.”

“Oh?” Nicholas asks me quietly. He, too, leans forward, making Sylvie and Lewis look in our direction while he continues to ask, “Why?”

“I’ve got an agenda to follow,” I answered quietly.

“A date?” He asks. I nod. “Wait. Is this the lad that Lewis talks about?”

“Lewis is talking about what—now?” The man next to me also leans over in our direction. Sylvie’s curiosity got the best of her as she finally gave in and leaned.

“Sylvie— go eat or something—“ I hissed, trying to shoo her away, “the adults are talking.”

“No—“ she whisper-shouts, “are you going to see Toto?”

Lewis, hearing the name finally, leans back and smirks at my direction. The smug little bast— I reach out and pinch him in his side as he lets out a groan, trying to get out of my grasp as he accidentally leans back at Stevie. The noise gathers the attention of the older people as they look at our direction, wondering what the hell is going on.

“Tilly,” Maman calls from the other side of the table, sitting next to Lewis’ mother as she continues, “Don’t do that to Lewis.”

“Oh nothing’s happening, Maman,” Sylvie denies helplessly. “I think an ant got to Lewis’ polo and it’s pinching him.”

Maman and the other adults laugh at the sight in front of them before they return to their conversations. I pull my hand away from Lewis.

“If you want me to go on a date with your boss, quit teasing,” I warn him with a glare, “you’re making me want to chicken out.”

“I’m not going to let you dip out,” he shakes his head insistently, “not when it’s my boss and my best friend.”

“I thought you had to go soon?” Nicholas asks with a frown, “why are you still here?”

There’s a vibration coming from Lewis’ pocket, making him grunt in annoyance before he pulls out his phone to see which person decides to text him this time. He suddenly looks up at me with a grin and says, “He’s outside.”

What? I don’t recall telling him to pick me up here?

“I told him you were heading here before I pulled you out of your team’s debriefing,” he explains before he pulls up my purse and jacket. “I knew you planned on going out with him tonight but I pulled you for a family dinner.” Slipping on my light coat, my movement catches the eyes of the adults once more as I stand up.

“Where are you going, love? Finishing dinner so soon?” Lewis’ mother asks me.

Lewis answers her with, “She’s having one someplace else, Mum. She just came with us to celebrate a little bit.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it!” Lewis’ father tells me with a cheeky grin, “Don’t enjoy it too much, though.”

I roll my eyes with a smile, leaning forward to kiss Lewis on the cheek before saying, “I’ll text you when I get back.”

“You better,” he mutters. “I did not set you up with Toto only for me to live under the rock.”

“And I will see you all at the next celebration!” I exclaim at Lewis’ relatives. Walking away at the table, I then look back at my siblings before saying, “Maman, Stevie. Drive my Bentley?”

Stevie’s smile widens as she nods eagerly, catching my car key as she lets out a loud ‘woo’ as I dash out of the restaurant. A black Mercedes is already parked at the front, making it easier for me to slip into the passenger seat with a cheeky smile.

The Austrian, who remains handsome even after he was soaked by the champagne, smiles at the sight of me. “Have you eaten yet?” He asks.

“Hello,” I greet him, “No I haven’t. Have you?”

“I’m waiting for you,” he shrugs.

I nod, “‘Kay good, because I am famished. Where are we off to?”

“I hope you are hungry for some Italian food,” he grins lazily. My hand takes the seat belt and buckles it in.

“I can be hungry for anything,” I tell him with a laugh. “You can take me to a pub, I’ll be starving for a good fish and chips.”

He laughs heartily, his joyous expression brightening the dimming road as he begins driving off.

I swore to myself that I wouldn’t read much into our conversation and strange affections. But I can’t help it; I keep finding myself wanting to hold his hand. There’s no such thing as proximity when I don’t want a space between us.

Perhaps the bottle of cabernet sauvignon that the waiter served tastes better than usual. I have always been a sauvignon blanc kind, but there’s a hint of romance that comes with the red wine. As if it was a witchcraft of some sort.

Ugh. Romance. Feelings. Butterflies in my stomach. It’s so 2004.

I still can’t help it. I could barely pay attention to the slice of pizza margherita in front of me. My eyes are looking at his handsome face as he continues to talk about his family in Austria. He speaks highly of them. He tells me about his home race— which was when Christian lost his shit when Mercedes took the P1. He tells me a lot about Austria and how I’ll like it there. Sounds a lot like the future, huh?

Then he asks me about myself— or whatever I have regarding that area of discussion. I only chuckle, “Haven’t I told you enough about my family?”

“You did not tell me more about yourself, I am certain of that,” Toto tells me with interest. Finishing the rest of my wine, my hand reaches for the glass of water as the liquid almost immediately washes the intoxication away. “Tired of wine?”

“Well I cannot be the only one drunk here,” I grin, “I’d hate to leave you sober by yourself. So… what would you like to know?”

It started there. From the most superficial interests and opinions toward the most competitive team principals to my personal life. It was immediately uncovered by the time that I finished the rest of my food.

“I personally didn’t think that you would be interested in this… what do I call this. Dinner,” I tell him meekly. “Normally, I would be rattling off about my little world and all I’d see is a man who’s practically begging me to shut up.”

“It’s a good thing that I don’t like normal,” he tells me with a smile. “It is quite foolish of them to think of you that way. Your words are more interesting than anyone else’s.”

“Gee, thanks,” I murmured and joked, “where were you when I needed that boost of confidence?”

“Something tells me that I was still working hard enough with Niki to sign Lewis to my team,” he says, “otherwise I wouldn’t have met you.”

My face turns red, yet without any mention, I continue on, “You would have. Still met me I mean. But, it’s not going to be the same. I’d be even more miserable.”

“If I had not met you beforehand,” he starts with a glint in his eyes, “Christian would have kept you away from me.”

“How is that?” I ask him.

“You were at the entrance when I first saw you,” he shrugs, “with the Red Bull ID. Something told me you were important to the team.”

“Don’t tell me that you stalked me on the way to the Mercedes hospitality, too,” I smirk mischievously.

He laughs aloud, “I do not think I will end up in this place if my behaviour goes along the lines of being weird, no?”

“Fair enough,” I nod.

“But yes,” he continues, “Christian probably would have kept you under wraps if Lewis hadn’t brought you to the hospitality. Was I ever thankful that he did.”

“He’s not exactly being subtle about setting us up on a date,” I giggle, my eyes squinting in joy.

“Have you ever been a thing?” He asks me, curiosity written all over his face. “You and Lewis… have you ever…”

“Oh!” I exclaim before shaking my head, “No! I would never. I do not like him that way. We’ve been friends for so long that I never even thought of him that way.”

“Oh,” he replies quietly. One simple word, yet it lifted the weight off his shoulders like he was dreading me to say yes.

“Yeah,” I huff out a laugh, “my sister Stevie has always had a crush on Lewis. Whereas I wouldn’t even step foot into that kind of situation with him.”

“That’s good—with you not dating Lewis, I mean. But, I wouldn’t let her near him,” he tells me, “I’ve seen how he is at the afterparties. He is a good driver but— he simply takes his pick of the week before he moves on to another.”

Sucking on my teeth, I can’t help but nod. Toto isn’t wrong. Lewis, even if he’s my best friend, isn’t someone I wouldn’t trust to be around Stevie or any of my sisters. I’ve seen him parade some women around every other 3 months. And each time he did, Stevie ended up in her bedroom with her head tucked in a book. I thought her interest in him was going to fade away by the time she went to university. It didn’t.

It’s hard not to tell her about moving on. I don’t want to be an arse about her unrequited love for Lewis. At some point, maybe they’ll cross each other’s paths. But it’s something that I have no control over.

Still, Toto is right. I’m worried about Stevie. What if she suddenly became his target of interest? No. He won’t do that.

He’s my best friend. He isn’t a manwhore who would sleep with his best friend’s sister. He wouldn’t dare disrespect our friendship like that.

“There’s only much that I can do,” I shrug, nonetheless, “she’s… an adult. She’s a model. She knows what she wants. But for now, I can just support and navigate.”

He stares at me for a moment, and I’m holding eye contact for as long as I can. He lets out a small smile.

“I admire your dedication,” he tells me. “You’re protecting your sisters and still respecting their boundaries. I like that about you.”

“Thank you,” I smile gleefully, “I’m the eldest sister for a reason.”

“And you keep your head up regardless of how exhausted you are,” he continues, “sometimes, it never hurts to rest.”

“This is me relaxing,” I gesture at my sitting figure, making him laugh, “I don’t need much to rest besides a cigarette and… this.”

“I sure hope I am making you feel at ease,” he says with a hopeful smile, “that’s the purpose of the dinner.”

“If this is the kind of treatment I get every major event,” I pause before leaning forward. “I can barely imagine what it’s like everyday being around you.”

His mouth snaps shut for a moment, the tip of his ears turning red as he tries to keep his composure. Two can play at this game.

“As I said before, liebling,” he says with a smirk, “I like to take my dear time. I suppose you’ll expect nothing of normalcy.”

“Sounds like a convincing case for me,” I grin. I did not even realize my foot swinging underneath the table until I felt his brush over mine.

He acts as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing as he asks, “So, are you heading back to London tomorrow?”

“I’ll be driving back, sadly,” I roll my eyes, the game of footsies long forgotten as I continue, “Go back to my sad little flat. In my sad little office. Writing my sad little articles.”

“Well, if you want,” he leans back finally. “You can always come to the next race.”

My gaze hardened at the thought. I have to write. I can’t just leave my passion behind just like that. Nah uh.

But then again, I tell myself, I’m about to become a big part of Formula One. Fuck, I’m going to be a somebody in this industry — they recognized either talent or my title. At least they gave me what I thought I deserved— recognition.

“Tempting, but,” I pause for a second, “I’ve a book to write and a work to go to.” And a work to quit from.

“You are writing a book?” Now he’s curious.

I nod, “Novel. Fairly close to writing the epilogue actually.”

He continues to beam and asks, “Any spoilers for me? An exclusive thing, perhaps?”

I giggle and roll my eyes, “I’ll give you the first signed copy.”

“I will make sure to put it in my office,” he laughs. “It would be an honour to have your first signed copy.”

“I hope you won’t sell it,” I joke.

He quips, “Darling, I own a racing team. I think I’m quite satisfied with where I’m standing at now.”

The response only brings me closer to tears. My eyes water as I laugh silently, trying to gather my breath.

“I feel honoured,” I tell him, a grin still on my face as I continue, “I don’t have to do something for profit, for once.”

“It’ll be priceless,” he tells me, “I’ll be the first to criticize you.”

“Oh please,” I nearly pleaded. “You would do me a huge favour if the annotations come from you.”

“Does this mean that you’ll be in contact with me?” He proposes with a murmur, “I definitely do not mind that.”

“Are you kidding me,” I gasp in disbelief. This man. I have been flirting with him for a weekend straight, and he’s asking me if I want to keep seeing him? Does he take me for someone who loves summer romance?

His expression tells me he didn’t get the memo, so I continue, “Darling, all of those drivers who tried to grab my attention would be upset to learn that I chose the Mercedes Team Principal over them.”

Clearly intoxication plays a role in my decision making. I’m not even buzzed, but my mouth told him everything I never would’ve thought I’d say to anyone.

But I suppose this is what happens when you give an attractive, older gentleman to a love-deprived younger woman. The last thing that you would expect from this is an unattached result. Nobody can ever come out of this situation without any evidence that they’ve somehow fallen one way or another.

But his eyes are saying something. You would think that he would be running off after all of the confessions that I made over the round table, in front of these candles and bottles of wine that’s not even half-empty. I would have expected him to drop me off then go. That he’s just joking about keeping in touch. His eyes told me otherwise.

And it wasn’t even lust. His eyes were telling me that he wanted something brighter than a casual dating situation.

Who am I to deny that?

#toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula one imagine #f1 fic #tw00

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braineater444 · 5 months

Text

To Be a Princess

Chapter 4

Last/Next

fem!reader x kokonoi/bonten

TW: Disordered eating, Mass murder, Depersonalization, Poor proofreading

A/N: This is pretty heavy because I've been in a rough place recently. Read with discretion.

The last two months have effectively blurred into each other. It’s been all the same. You wake up, Hajime dresses you, and you go nowhere. He leaves and if you’re lucky, Haruchiyo is forced to watch you. If you’re unlucky, you’re cuffed to the bed and stuck in your room all day.

“Eat this and we can go.” Hajime slides you a decently sized pork cutlet sandwich and you get to work on it without a second thought.

It hurts your stomach to eat so much after such a long time of eating so little. Your throat is even rejecting it a little. It takes more energy to chew and swallow than you’d anticipated. You definitely should be taking it slower, but you need to get out of this place. You’ve been going stir-crazy.

At least it’s a really good sandwich. Even if it pains you to eat and give him what he wants, you can appreciate a good piece of meat.

When you’re done, you slide the plate to him, and he kisses your forehead.

“Thank you.” He smiles.

✮✮✮

It’s good that Hajime is letting you tag along today because you’ve started to eat the stuffing in your pillow. Not a lot. Maybe a fistful. A decent fistful every day for about a week. He hasn’t noticed, or if he has, he’s kept his mouth shut. But you try your best to hide it. You re-fluff the pillow you keep pulling down out of and flip it, so the torn side isn’t showing. If you eat any more feathers, you might get sick though, and that’s not ideal. You should be sick, right? If you are, you haven’t noticed.

“So, do you like Haruchiyo?” Hajime asks, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“He’s alright. Weird. But he smells good. I think his teeth are fake.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” It’s a lot to explain. You realized it once when the Haitanis were over. Rindou has charmingly, somewhat crooked teeth and Ran’s teeth are perfect. Sanzu’s teeth are good at passing for real when you don’t look too hard or have anything to compare them to.

“Not all of them are fake.” Hajime says matter-of-factly.

“How do you know?” You rest your head against the window.

“I took him to go get the implants.”

“What? What happened?”

“Ran knocked three of them out. All in the front of his mouth.”

“That doesn’t make sense. What do you mean?”

“He does a lot of drugs. His teeth were on their way out, anyway.” Hajime smiles at the thought. “I didn’t want to see him missing so many teeth, though, so I took him to start getting them fixed the next day.”

“Yeah, but why did Ran hit him?”

Hajime shrugs. “There could be several reasons. I think he needed it either way.” He thinks for a second. “I just remember that Haruchiyo came to me with his teeth in his hand and he told me Ran did it. There was so much blood, he kept choking on it when he cried.”

Hajime seems amused by recalling it. He tries to suppress smiles and keep seriousness in his tone, but here and there it sounds like he’s telling you a pleasant dream he had.

“Why don’t you like him?” You prod. It’s not your business, but in the past months you’ve developed quite the attachment to Haru and while you can see tons of reasons for someone not to like him, Hajime seems deeper than the surface level.

He goes quiet in thought and then starts.

“He’s a jackass. I know I’m far from being a good person myself, but he takes it to a whole different level. His personality is grating. He doesn’t listen. And while he’s second in charge, it’s only for show. His bullshit falls on me all the time and I’m stuck with work I don’t want.” He clenches his jaw, and his hands tighten around the steering wheel. He seethes, “If being second in command was as simple as sucking Mikey’s dick, anyone could do it.”

“Wow.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’d be easier to not hate him if he was incompetent. Okay? But he’s not. He’s very smart, and that’s what gets on my nerves. It’s like he does dumb shit on purpose, and I always have to fix it.”

“Must suck.”

“It does, but it’s fine. I’m going to outlive him.”

✮✮✮

A black-haired man slides up to your open window and starts talking before you can process who he is or what he’s saying.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, uh, they’re in his glove box. The cigarettes. I just need one.” He’s a very polite man. Very handsome too. Even with the scar marking a solid quarter of his face.

You’ve met him before, right? At the club? Had to be.

“Here.” You hand him the cigarette.

He starts to walk away but stops in his tracks. “You don’t want to get out?”

He’s opening your door and offering you his hand before you can think about it. You take it. How could you not?

“It’s weird that he left you in the car when it’s so hot.” He guides you to where a group of people are standing and talking.

For the first time in the fifteen minutes that you’ve been here, you realize that you’re in the middle of an empty shipping yard.

You look around at all the faces and then turn around to take in the entire scene. A bunch of well-dressed men in an empty shipping yard? What the fuck is going on?

“Calm down.” A friendly voice cuts through all the noise.

Rin. Why?

He checks his phone. “Kakucho, Mikey needs you. Keep your phone on you.” He says to the man that guided you here.

Kakucho walks away.

Something’s not right. Where’s Koko? Why are you here?

“Rin, I want to go home.”

He looks at you as if he’s considering helping you. Your eyes dart around, and you see Takeomi laughing with a man who has severe eyebrows and a goatee. You’ve seen him before. Other men are laughing too, but you’re not acquainted. You should leave.

“Let’s go over here,” Rindou says as he leads you to the side of his SUV where no one can see you.

“What is going on?” You ask plainly. “Why are we here?”

He scratches his head. “We have to kill a couple of people.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

The sun feels hotter. Your palms feel sweatier even through your sheer black gloves. You want to run, but you can’t in these heels, so you walk. Or so you start to walk. Rindou grabs your arm and pushes you right back against the door.

“I can’t. I can’t. Please.” Your nose tingles at the onset of tears.

“You will be fine.”

“No. I won’t. Rin. Please.”

“Stop fucking crying.” He forces out, irritated. “Do you want something to make you calm down a little? I might be able to find a pill.”

You shake your head.

“Then calm down.”

You try. Your hands smooth over the cotton fabric of your minidress. Once. Twice. Three times. Again, and again and again. But the tears don’t stop. Your head falls to your chest.

“Fuck.” He grunts. There is a split second where he’s all but throwing you into the backseat. You can feel your dress ride up and you know you flash him and when you’re situated, he looks at his watch as says, “You have about fifteen minutes to cry and then you have to be out there.” Before slamming the door.

You beat at the headrest in front of you and sob. He stands with his back to the door as if nothing is happening. This is why Hajime didn’t put any makeup on you. He saw this coming.

You scream into your hands and the fabric of those sheer polyester gloves burns when it rubs against your eyes.

You’d give everything not to be you.

The rest of the tears are silent. You lay your head back and just let them fall with the occasional hiccup here and there. There’s no more relief in screaming after it starts to hurt and it never got you anywhere, anyway.

✮✮✮

It’s more people than you’d expected. You count all the way up to twenty-five. Twenty-two grown men in their underwear, heads bowed in shame and their knees pressed to the shipping yard dirt and gravel. One woman and her two kids are in the same position but wearing the clothes they’d go about their daily lives in. Elementary school uniforms and nursing scrubs.

The two kids cry. They’ve done nothing wrong, and they can’t understand what’s going on.

At least one hundred people are standing around watching this, and you are the only one who seems to feel anything. Rindou has his arm resting over your shoulders and when you look at his face, it’s blank. Ran’s too.

Kakucho brings in a last man. He’s been beaten. Some of his nails are missing. He limps when he walks. Rindou and his brother titter. Of course they find this is funny. How long has it been since they’ve been full people?

The man bows to the detained before turning his back to them and getting on his knees. There’s a moment of breathlessness before the kids run to be at his side, hugging his half-naked body. They’re screaming and crying and begging their dad to tell them what’s happening. He stays silent. Everyone does.

Twenty-six people in total will die.

Mikey, Haruchiyo and Hajime appear. You can hear every one of their footsteps.

“Apologize to the team you let down.” Hajime isn’t yelling, yet his voice is strikingly clear.

The man yells. “I’m sorry for steering you all wrong and now you have to die because of my mistakes.” He’s shaking. Despite his confident voice, every inch of him is wrought with fear. There’s no denying it.

“Now apologize to them individually,” Hajime commands. The warm wind lifts his hair, and he almost looks like God. Mikey stands silently beside him and Sanzu stalks back and forth between the rows of men with a gun in his hand. You can tell he’s eager to do this. He’s more dressed up than you’ve ever seen him. Everyone is.

“Nakamura Touma!” There’s a loud wail at the sound of the name. “I’m sorry!”

Haruchiyo is quick. There’s the sound of a gun being fired, the woman’s scream, and grown men crying.

It’s real. You see the brain matter splatter on to the people nearest to Touma. You watch everyone flinch at the sound. The kids cower into their father. The woman folds in on herself to sob.

You stand in shock.

“Maekawa Yuichi! I’m sorry!”

It’s nothing for Haruchiyo to kill again. It’s just as fast as the last time. He executes the man with a smile. There are no second thoughts or regrets. He just lines his gun up and pulls the trigger.

This time, you’re not frozen in fear. You turn away at the sound of another namel. You’re faced with Ran’s chest and there’s a scuffle between you and both brothers. They force you to turn around.

It’s just in time for Haruchiyo to locate the man and put him to death.

“Don’t you ever turn your back. It’s bad manners.” Rindou jeers into your ear.

Your head falls as you start to cry again. Rindou’s hand comes to your hair to force your head back up. You’re met with an unreadable glance from Hajime.

The bodies fall name after name. Some men pee on themself before being done away with. It’s too cruel for you. You’ve never wanted to live in a world like this.

The numbers whittle down until the man is left with his wife and kids.

“Say sorry to your family.” Hajime sounds actually angry. The man doesn’t speak. It seems like the impact comes before the actual kick to the head Hajime delivers. The kids scurry away as Koko yells.

“Tell your wife you’re sorry!” He leans into the man’s ear. “Are you deaf?”

“Emiko!” He projects over the shrill screams of his children. “I’m sorry. Our financial troubles are my fault and I should have told you what was going on. I did this behind your back and it’s my fault—“

The sound of Sanzu’s gun going off is its own sick timer. He’s killed the wife before her husband can fully apologize.

Hajime is stoic. Unbothered. The kids’ screaming explodes into something worse. Something indescribable. They’re the type of screeches that claw at your insides and assure you’ll never be well again.

“Dead or orphaned?” Sanzu shouts to the man. It’s a question that’s impossible to answer.

✮✮✮

The screams have died. Non-executive members clear out. The Haitanis stay right next to you. Your feet are cemented into the earth. They gather around you as if you’re leading them.

Mikey speaks.

“Mochi, find someone to clean this up by tonight.” His voice is low, the wind is louder. He speaks calmly and precisely. “Rindou. Ran. Find the oldest son and ex wife. Kill them.”

They don’t object. They just nod.

“I’m going home.” Is the last thing he says before turning away. Haruchiyo trails after him.

They all disperse like nothing happened

Ran pets your head before heading to his car. Rindou bumps you with his elbow before leaving, too.

It’s like nothing happened.

Blood, piss, the salt of your tears, cologne. You can smell it in the air as you’re dragged back into the car.

Your stomach churns and your mouth feels like it’s full of slime. There’s spit filling your mouth and in place of crying, you vomit.

It’s stomach acid and that sandwich. You cough and then more stomach acid comes up. Hajime rubs your back as you lean over. All stomach acid comes up the next time.

You hyperventilate, trying to catch your breath. Spit drips off of your lips. You start to shake and you’re finally able to make a noise for the first time in minutes.

You let out a caterwaul. It rips itself through your vocal cords and punches out all the air in your body.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Hajime helps you into the passenger seat as you howl. It’s agony.

When he takes his seat you try to speak, but all you can do is let out tortured noises.

Your hands reach out to grab him and you bawl into his chest. When his hands come up in an effort to comfort you, something snaps.

You’re swinging without thought, and you don’t stop. You hit everything, but you know you mean to hit him. You punch and slap him over and over. Even the steering wheel is a victim of your fury.

For a moment, Hajime is letting you have this. Then there’s a switch where he’s on top of you with his hands around your neck and your heeled feet flailing to kick him.

It’s cramped, and every sound feels as loud as Haruchiyo’s gun.

“Stop.” He speaks gently as he strangles you.

You manage a sound resembling “why?” but you don’t know what you’re asking it for.

What?

His hair drapes like a beautiful curtain around you. You’re running out of air and your fingers are gripping at his wrists. Your dress is up your back. You can’t calm down.

“I said stop.”

You quit flailing. He lets you go. You hack and sit up as he returns to the driver’s seat.

You sob the entire way home.

✮✮✮

“There’s vomit on your dress.” He speaks softly as he unzips you and drops the new dress to the floor.

He slides your gloves off and takes a chance to feel at each of your hands. Next, your bra. He gropes your breasts with fervor. He hasn’t been this rough before a bath, ever.

You can only let it happen. You can see yourself from above as it happens. Your hair is messed up and you’re slouched over like a broken animatronic. You don’t move.

From above, you see him drop to his knees and kiss your stomach. You hear his voice like it’s being played on a shitty speaker.

“I couldn’t think of another way of showing you how well I protect you.”

You see yourself nod.

“You’ve been difficult lately, and I wanted to- I don’t know.” His hands grip at your hips. He puts his forehead against your stomach. “There’s people like that man that would’ve killed you.” He says, muffled.

He looks back up at you with teary eyes. “I’m just trying to keep you safe and I want to take care of you, but—” He searches for the words. “I don’t know how to show you that you’re better here with me.”

Your body nods.

“Please forgive me. I’m sorry.”

He hugs your waist with his face to your stomach.

You stand frozen as you return to your body.

#lived this kinda #kidding but this is what the abuse felt like a lot of the time #haven't felt happiness in like two weeks lmao #tw: abuse #tokyo rev x reader #bonten x reader #tw: violence

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justinspoliticalcorner · 2 months

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Joyce Vance at Civil Discourse:

Tonight, Donald Trump will become the presidential nominee of the Republican Party. Joe Biden, a kind, decent man, is at home doing the right thing, quarantining to avoid infecting others with Covid. He tested positive yesterday. The likely narrative we will continue to see is that of the strong Republican nominee who emerged from an assassination attempt with nothing more than a (large, weird) bandaid on his ear versus the man who is hiding in his basement. Almost everyone I know is questioning how we got here. There are people who believe that the proof of Biden’s competence lies in the results he has delivered during his first three years in office. There are others who believe Joe Biden must be replaced. I’m a Biden supporter. I haven’t made any bones about that. I believe he and Kamala Harris have done a spectacular, if underappreciated, job in difficult times and should be permitted to continue; they should be celebrated, not merely tolerated. But it seems increasingly likely matters are coming to a head and the question of whether Joe Biden will remain on the ticket will be decided soon. [...]

Public education is important. Well-educated citizens are more employable and prepared to compete in the 21st Century economy. Education reduces crime. It improves public health and health equity. Education produces a more informed population, people able to think for themselves and their communities. As the saying goes, if you’re burning books because they contain some ideas you don’t like, you’re not afraid of books or courses—you’re afraid of ideas. That perfectly encapsulates the Project 2025 approach to education. The most important takeaway from the education chapter of Project 2025 is that the plan is to shut down the U.S. Department of Education. Donald Trump has been saying at recent rallies that it should be disbanded to “move everything back to the states where it belongs.” You’ll recall Trump has claimed he doesn’t know anything about Project 2025, but there are linkages that suggest he isn’t being truthful about that, as we discussed last week. Kevin Roberts, the head of the Heritage Foundation has confirmed it. Audio was released of him privately acknowledging Trump knows about Project 2025. Roberts says in the recording that he doesn’t grudge Trump for trying to separate himself from it because Project 2025 "has become a liability." Apparently, it’s just fine with the folks who wrote Project 2025 for Trump to lie to voters if it helps him get elected.

This isn’t about Trump backing off of supporting Project 2025 because Americans don’t want it. It’s being deceitful about what a Trump win would bring with it. That makes it even more important for us to understand the details of Project 2025. The Education Chapter is 44 pages long. They are counting on the fact that no one will read it. So we will. It would take an act of Congress to abolish the Department of Education, but Project 2025 has a workaround for that. The plan involves dismantling the Department so that all that is left is a hollow shell that can only gather statistics to disseminate. That’s the goal for an agency whose current mission is to “to promote student achievement and preparation for global competitiveness by fostering educational excellence and ensuring equal access.” That seems like a good thing, something to improve upon. Not something to eliminate.

Lindsey Burke, the author of this chapter, is the author of a piece advocating against government funding for early childhood education, in other words, most of the funding for it that isn’t tied to religious entities. She writes, “Federal education policy should be limited and, ultimately, the federal Department of Education should be eliminated. When power is exercised, it should empower students and families, not government. In our pluralistic society, families and students should be free to choose from a diverse set of school options and learning environments that best fit their needs. Our postsecondary institutions should also reflect such diversity, with room for not only ‘traditional’ liberal arts colleges and research universities but also faith-based institutions, career schools, military academies, and lifelong learning programs.”

[...] Project 2025 put states in charge of programs that are currently funded and managed by the federal government. It would send money to the states without connecting it to established priorities and programs. This no strings money could be spent on “any lawful education purpose under state law”—we’re already seeing how that plays out in states that are spending money on religiously-oriented education. It would expand so-called school choice, for instance, the voucher programs that let students leave public schools for private ones that in some cases imposes restrictive limits on what they can learn. All of this goes hand in glove with the priorities in state legislatures that are gerrymandered to be and remain Republican. The Heritage Foundation also wants to eliminate Head Start, a program that funds early childhood education for low-income families, because it is “fraught with scandal and abuse”, according to a chapter on the Department of Health and Human Services. The Center for American Progress says in a new report that eliminating Head Start would reduce access and increase costs for childcare, hurting economic stability. Just as women are being forced to carry pregnancies that they don’t want and sometimes can’t afford to term.

Project 2025, if enacted, would be a disaster for education, especially early childhood and special education. #StopProject2025

#Joyce Vance #Project 2025 #Education #Special Education #Head Start #Early Childhood #Trump Administration #The Heritage Foundation #Kevin Roberts #School Vouchers #School Choice

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tortoisebore · 1 year

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Fic recs?? It’s so hard to find good stuff😩

i’ll list a few of my recent favs, but first i’ll give u some tips & secrets ab how i find new fics 🥰

my first & biggest source—i snoop on everyone’s bookmarks. like everyone. if i read a fic i liked, i check that author’s bookmarks. if someone comments on my fic, i check their bookmarks. if i come across someone talking ab fic on the tl, i go to their ao3 and check their bookmarks. i’ve found so many great fics just by snooping on what other ppl are reading 🫶

my second most-used tactic: searching for tags & using filters. if i’m looking for something specific, i search the tags/pairings i want and make sure to exclude things i don’t want (i.e. i don’t usually want to read jegulus, so i make sure to exclude that pairing in my results. same goes w tags/ratings/warnings u don’t want). i’ll sort by date, kudos, and hits separately, and add anything that sounds interesting to my bookmarks to sort through later. ao3 really has the best filtering and tagging system out there, but a lot of times we don’t use it to its full capacity! if you want to read something specific there’s a very good chance someone has written it, you just need to search and filter your results so that you’re not just seeing the most recent stuff! (i also filter by word count a lot too bc i’m not always in the mood for something multi-chaptered or something that will take me multiple days to finish reading)

last, sometimes i’ll go into the main pairing tag i’m looking for and sort by kudos/hits/date/whatever and jump to like….the 30th page of results. there’s sooooo much stuff i miss just bc it gets lost in the flow of new/popular fics, so jumping to random deep-dive search results will help you find new stuff & come across fics & authors you haven’t seen before 💞💖💘

now here’s some of the stuff i’ve been enjoying lately!! 💞💖💘💕

love by the seaside by viwrites

this was very cute and a great quick read! remus is a disgruntled painter/barista recovering from a toxic relationship & sirius is the sweet, dashing stranger that he meets by accident on the beach one day. lots of early-morning coffee runs and nervous flirting with some christmas fluff as a treat

hurling crowbirds at mockingbars by wrappedup

y’all know i am typically NOT an exes to lovers kind of girlie. i find this trope very hard to read most of the time bc i am a huge baby, but this one was a quick read and the plot was overall very sweet! remus broke up with sirius & left the country out of the blue almost 10 years ago, and then comes back to town with a fiancé. sirius learns very quickly that he’s still hurt, and remus learns very quickly that he might have jumped the gun all those years ago.

in the dark there is discovery by lynxindisguise

wolfstar pirate au!! need i say more!!

disarm you with a smile by five_ht

listen to me. look me in my eyes. this is explicit as fuck and i encourage you to read every single one of the tags carefully. seriously read all of them. it will not be for everyone but like….,oh my fuxking god. sirius steals remus’ phone number while hanging out with his friend (remus’ niece) one day and starts sending him increasingly suggestive texts anonymously. it’s all fun and games until sirius starts to catch feelings & remus starts to get curious ab who he’s been talking to.

in the centre of a circle by moonheavens

reccing this again bc I HAVEN’T CAUGHT UP YET BUT IT’S SO SO GOOD i’m going after the latest chapter as SOOOOOON as i have the time this week 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 sirius lives with the lupins and is very much in love with remus. he consults various people for advice.

#u ask tortoise answers #anon #fic rec #wolfstar fic rec #plus some #ao3 tips

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readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure · 2 years

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Billy Russo x Reader Fic Rec List

Here’s a little project I’ve been working on for... *checks notes* five months and I’ve finally finished it! So without further ado, here are about 20 of my favourite Billy x Reader fics (under the cut, of course). Enjoy!

Balance Between Forces by marvelmusing

Author’s summary: You can’t explain the pull you feel towards the Sith Lord, Darth Russoti. No matter where he is, you can always find him.

Rec notes: Who doesn’t love a sexually charged sword fight? Or in this case, lightsaber fight, as this is a Star Wars AU. One thing I particularly like about this fic is the “Red/Blue looks good on you” parallel, which is what made it stand out for me. Well, that and the idea of Billy as a Sith. The little picture at the top of the fic shows why that is so appealing.

The Blood We Spill by celestialspecial

Summary: The reader wants revenge against those who killed her sister… so she makes a deal.

Rec notes: A short fic, but a good one. I love the concept of demon!billy, and making him a crossroads demon just makes so much sense. Be warned, though. This fic will leave you wanting more. I’ve got my fingers crossed for a sequel in which it is time for the reader to pay up.

Bottle of Scotch by banditthewriter

Summary: The reader works for Billy and develops a habit of anonymously gifting him things. But solely because they are such good friends. Not because of any hidden feelings or anything…

Rec notes: I LOVE the friends-to-lovers trope. The pining, the sexual tension, the denial and misunderstandings… just hook it to my veins! This fic does not disappoint, which is to be expected from this writer. Fair warning, you are going to be seeing their name a lot in this list.

Cupid by banditthewriter

Author’s summary: You’re a cupid that has run into the same man a few times while you’re making matches. The only problem? That man is a reaper. A reaper that goes by the name Billy Russo. Well. Maybe it’s not too much of a problem.

Rec notes: A cupid and reaper falling in love is such an interesting concept, and I love how the writer has managed to build the world without taking anything away from the characters and their relationship. A hard thing to do in what is a relatively short fic.

Guilty of Love by marvelmusing

Summary: The reader is a detective assigned to a case of recent killings across the city. But their work has not gone unnoticed, and they find themselves a lot closer to their fugitive than expected.

Rec notes: I love how seamlessly Billy and the reader fall into a relationship in this one. Even before anything is defined and the characters themselves haven’t realised, it is obvious that they are committed to each other. This fic is also a great one if you are looking for a long story, but don’t want to read it all in one go. It’s broken up into seasons and then into small chapters that are practically one-shots. Perfect for reading on the go or just in between doing other things.

Hunger by lieutenantwilliamrusso

Summary: Billy is a vampire and the reader lets him drink from her.

Rec notes: Vampire!Billy is always great, but what sets this one apart is the ending. The first half of the fic is your typical sexy Billy with a vampire twist… but then the darkness slowly creeps in. It’s wonderfully done and has a killer last line.

Impossible Year by banditthewriter

Author’s summary: It started as a care package to a nameless soldier. What comes next is a year of letters, emails, and Skype calls that document the reader falling for a soldier on the other side of the world.

Rec notes: This is one of my favourite Billy x Reader fics. I don’t think I can properly describe how good it is. It’s the type of fic you just can’t put down, even when you’re dead tired. And I love how it’s broken up into months. It flows nicely and the audience really gets a sense of how the reader and Billy’s relationship grows as they slowly get to know each other.

In Time by banditthewriter

Author’s summary: It’s time for the annual Purge. The reader usually hides in a bunker with Billy, Frank, Karen, and the Lieberman family. This year, things are going to get bloody.

Rec notes: This is my favourite of Bandit’s Halloween fics. And considering the high quality of the others, that is saying something. As you may have guessed from the summary, this fic is based on the idea behind the Purge movies, so be prepared for violence and a whole lot of whump. What I like about this fic is that even though the reader and Billy spend very little time together, there is always something linking them, be it phone calls, Rawlins using the reader to get to Billy, or just internal angst and pining. It’s brilliantly done.

Look After You by banditthewriter

Summary: The reader and friends – including one Billy Russo – spend various nights at a karaoke bar. You know where this is going.

Rec notes: I just had to have a singing one in here. With Ben Barnes’ voice, how could I not? Sometimes karaoke love confessions can be really cheesy… okay, they are always cheesy, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be great as well. This fic is the perfect mix of fun and emotion and the ending never fails to make me smile.

Misdial; Redial by banditthewriter

Prompt/Author’s summary: Wrong Number AU: Reader is going through hard times and her friend gives her number to a guy who usually helps veterans but won’t say no to a civilian. But instead of talking with a polite man named Curtis she ends up texting with a guy named Billy who’s incredibly witty, funny and maybe gets attached to her but doesn’t want to show his face

Rec notes: This is another one of my favourites. It’s long for one chapter (17k words) but it’s such a great read, you won’t want to stop. There’s a lot of past trauma to deal with in this fic, both the reader’s and Billy’s, and the writer handles it all brilliantly and sprinkles plenty of lighter moments throughout the story, highlighting the reader regaining control of her life and getting to a better place.

New Year Celebrations by marvelmusing

Summary: Billy had never cared too much about celebrating the New Year. Until he met you, that is.

Rec notes: This little ficlet is so fluffy I wanna die! It’s sure to leave a smile on your face.

Play It By Ear by banditthewriter

Summary: The reader is a music tutor and one of her favourite pupils just happens to have a very attractive dad.

Rec notes: Kid!fic is not usually my thing, but I think the reason I like this one is because it isn’t the reader’s kid. Billy is a single dad and the kid is a teen by the time they meet the reader, so, as someone who is not very maternal, it makes it easier to relate to the reader. Another benefit is that we have skipped all the “I don’t know how to be a dad” angst and gotten straight to how Billy was with Lisa and Frank Jr. Okay, there’s still a little bit of “I don’t know how to be a dad” angst, but I think that’s just a normal part of parenting.

Set it Up, Knock it Down by banditthewriter

Prompt/Author’s summary: The reader is friends with Frank and he asks her if she has any friends they could set Billy up with. She isn’t close to Billy but she finds him attractive, and at first it doesn’t bother her to set him up but during the process they grow feelings for each other.

Rec notes: “You wanted me to set you up with someone but now I’ve caught feelings and can’t do it anymore”. It’s a classic. And I love the little bits from Frank’s point of view.

Show Me by banditthewriter

Summary: The reader is a virgin and is ready to take that next step with Billy.

Rec notes: It may be an unrealistic fantasy, but I love fics where the reader is an older virgin (or at least can be read that way) and their S.O. not only doesn’t judge them, but makes it their mission to ensure their first time is good. And I particularly like this fic because it doesn’t treat the reader like someone who needs to be taught, and despite the focus being on the reader, there is definitely mutual pleasure shared by the two characters.

Take Charge by banditthewriter

Prompt/Author’s summary: Billy gets into a heated fight in front of the reader. The reader is really diplomatic and she is the only one that can calm him down.

Rec notes: Billy is the perfect character for these kinds of fics. It is so in character for him to go past protective and into vengeful, which makes it all the more satisfying to see the reader calm him down. Add in Billy getting turned on by the reader taking charge of the situation, and you have yourself a great little fic.

Teeth by sincerelyreinhardt

Author’s summary: You’re his and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Rec notes: A very short fic (162 words) but it captures Billy’s character well.

Trials & Tribulations by marvelmusing

Summary: The reader is Anvil’s marketing director. It doesn’t take long to fall head over heels for the CEO.

Rec notes: This series is different because it’s not just fic. There are also moodboards, text message screenshots, and other visuals that make up the whole story. The series is set up into three parts, one for each phase of the relationship (colleagues, friends, dating), so it’s easy to follow even with all the different formats.

Two For One by banditthewriter

Summary: The reader is “asked” out on a date by a douchebag who can’t take no for an answer, so Frank and Billy show up to set the guy straight.

Rec notes: No actual violence in this one, so it’s pretty tame as far as protective!Billy fics go, but honestly, that’s kind of the appeal. It’s a nice fantasy solution to a problem that far too many women can relate to, even if not quite to this level of creepiness. Other fic highlights include protective-big-brother-Frank, Karen being Karen, and Billy demonstrating a much smoother (and less creepy) way to ask the reader out.

Who’s Going Home With You Tonight? by banditthewriter

Summary: Billy loves reader. Reader loves Billy. But of course neither of them realise it. Billy’s solution is to drown out his feelings by sleeping with as many women as possible, not knowing how much it is hurting the reader.

Rec notes: This fic is perfect for when I’m in an angsty mood. It dives straight into it and slowly builds throughout the short fic until you get to the satisfying resolution and happy ending. It also has drunk!Billy, which is always fun to read.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo x you #fic recs #this may as well be a banditthewriter fic rec list #but other writers feature too #I'm also working on a list for Logan Caspian and the Darkling

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carmenized-onions · 2 months

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chapter 1 - going back to my roots!! (spoilers for those who haven’t rear the most recent chapter)

the way you mirrored that first sentence with the mikey - EVIL

if it’s a love confession she should definetely answer😁 - imagine if it was…imagine that

if carmy knew her neighbourhood wasn’t peaceful he’d have her in his apartmentment at once!!

But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her - oh this hurted

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.” - the way it all goes back to her, mikey and richie ugh your mind

Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice. - RICHIEEEE. ugh reading it with all the contexr is just wow!!!powerful stuff

Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this - lowkey hot tho😁

an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat - donna!! makes sense that chippy never met her but oh i wonder how that would’ve gone

She gently slaps your cheek - tina is so cuteee

You’ve never said his name to him - the way everything makes sense now oooof

love the switch up between “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.” and “….Who the fuck is Tony?”

“Aye… Cousin?”- i used to think the cousin was for carmy but it’s for her 🥹🥹🥹 my fave besties 🥹💕🫶🏼😭 (also i’ve had two dreams now about richie being my best friend… yeah the mental illness is,,,)

Girlfriend? Probably - that could’ve been you already if you listened to mikey’s advice but i guess claire had to happen *for the plot*🙄

“You’re just. Cold.” - sobbing actually

you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder - 😭😭😭 them!!!!!

retaining - the bold on retaining 💀💀💀

definitely a virgin - ajajsjejrjri not for long (well i can dream 😁🫶🏼)

sweetheart, asshole - so true 💕💕

omg remember back when the chapters were this short (compared to the newest ones)yeah me neither. love you love your dedication!!<3

this is the best day of my life, getting people's re-reading thoughts is the best experience of my life AND FROM YOU TOO LU!! LOVE YOU!!!

ANyways. CHAPTER 1 THOUGHTS BUT WITH C O N T E X T now.

I can't remember if I always planned to mirror the intro line with Mikey. I'm pretty sure I did? I think I went back and forth a couple times on whether or not it was stupid-- And it very well might be, but I know it makes everyone rereading mad so I think it was worth it and good and cool of me.

Everyone gets so hung up on the love confession line now it makes me so happy. I'll be so fr I didn't plan Squidink to happen in the beginning-- Though I did originally concept this whole series as x Syd before switching lanes, I don't remember when it locked in for me that I was going to be gay about it. Probably Zero Pulse? Yeah probably.

carmen's gonna crash tony's credit score on purpose so she has to move out: canon-- canon i said it it's canon! kidding

THE DOOORKNOOBBB this I always planned-- I don't know if they go over it in canon but fr why the fuck did the inner knob break off so easy that's so deeply concerning man.

RICCHIEEE, he IS powerful stuff bro.

"lowkey hot tho😁" so tony is now a character and it's Tony x reader now, i see?

DONNNAAAAA, it only makes sense for Tony to be in a rush and avoid Donna in this opener, but I do also wonder how violently different this night would've gone if she listened in on their convo for like even two seconds.

It's extremely funny to go from "i need to be so nice to this kid, he meant everything to my best friend" to "what the FUCK are you yapping about?" in two seconds.

I THINK A LOT OF PEOPLE USED TO THINK RICHIE SAYING COUSIN WAS FOR CARMEN, I remember for chapter 2 so many people going awe he calls her cousin-- baby, always has! Also were you a handyman in those dreams be HONEST!!!

smh chip if you simply just followed big bros advice you could probably be living together by now but NO Carmen had to get with the ACTUAL DOCTOR instead of the EMT!!!! bro loves women in healthcare

JUST COLD!!!! JUST COLD!!! man if i had a hat i'd throw it and i literally wrote all this. The little descriptions Mikey gave of his siblings were also honestly some of my favourite bits to write from this first chapter. Had to look at me and my two brothers and go how would I honestly describe these two and how brutal would I be about it? 100% older brother Mikey has to humble Carmen's ass with a ALWAYS EMPHASIZED R E T A I N I N G. He's proud but like. come on you didn't get them, carm.

i miss the days of short chapters. though I think we're kind of going back to it if not taking a brief pitstop of short. This next one I pray to god is under 10k i'll 86 myself i swear to god. LOVE YOU!!!

memes are so good, who the FUCK are you cousin!!! sydney's new apartment in S3 should be free-- rent should be free during pride month actually that's the law also i'm pretty sure everyone IS making sex up anyways anyways do i have a piece of wip i could give you my darling let's see

oh i do but i'm gonna be so fucking mean about it.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY YAPPING ABOUT!!!!??? WHO KNOWSSS (i know)

anyways i have to pack up from work and get the FUCK out of here see you all later conspire over this screenshot losers love u

#yapping #ask #popcornpoppin #extensive yapping #chicagos kindest comp #chicagos kindest #onion wip

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gallavichfanficlibrary · 1 year

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hi!! i absolutely love canon compliant fics just showing mickey and ian’s lives with the gallagher’s. any topic, any premise. i’ve exhausted all of your tags, but wondering if you’ve come across any good fics that may have been posted more recently that haven’t made it to the tags?

Hi! :) I'm sure some of the fics I've listed were in some of the tags, but maybe you haven't come across them yet? Hopefully? :D

i had a feeling that i belonged - post-10x10 : ian and mickey tell the family they’re engaged

half-grown - 5x01: ian shows up to the gallagher pool party but this time mickey goes with him

hey brother - mid-11x10: mickey and lip talk post-fight

Our Love, Our Rules. - Ian and Mickey have been taking casual showers together for years. Lip will never understand why.

quiet - 5 times Mickey lets his guard down, as observed by various third parties.

Full of it - Mickey knows he hasn't had the best track record, but is tired of the constant surprise from people when he can do normal things.

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft - Mickey takes care of sick Ian and Franny in their new apartment.

There's also a new post S6 fix-it multi-chapter that we haven't had time to read yet but it seems interesting and maybe you can look for Mickey's interactions with the Gallaghers in there: In Another World.

There's also an interesting fic I know many people read already, but in case you haven't, What He Missed - Terry Milkovich's spirit is tied to his children in the afterlife so that he’s forced to witness each living happily now that he’s gone. So he's forced to see Mickey's new family too.

#mickey and the gallaghers #family bonding #the gallaghers #fill in

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id-rather-be-home · 3 months

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Byler omegaverse thoughts: the one a/b/o byler fic I absolutely loved was dirty rain, I think it’s been deleted now but I wish I had downloaded it/ it get reuploaded or at least knew why it got deleted since it did have almost 40 chapters. Everything about it was sooo good and I feel like people NEED to know abt it if they don’t already so here is why I love this fic: Mike walking around in the middle of the night the same night Will came back to Hawkins because of Wills scent, the slight age gap between the two, protective Mike when Will started school again, Mike courting Will and scenting everything he gives him, their desire for each other being so strong even before Wills first heat that they end up grinding against each other multiple times because Mike refuses to hurt Will since his body isn’t fully ready yet, when Wills first heat does happen he chooses to stay at Mikes house instead of his own because the scent of Mike calms him, during their first time (I think) Mike lets Will bite his neck even though it’s seen as a bad thing in society for alphas to have claim marks, Mike also claiming Will by biting him but being so careful because he knows Will has trauma related to his neck and also biting all his other scent glands if I remember correctly, and finally Mike making sure Will eats and stays hydrated in between the times when Wills heat isn’t spiked high I could honestly go on forever talking about this fic bc I love it so much and I never see anyone mention it which is 😢

side note: I recently saw the anatomy chart of a male omega and the science/anatomy college side of my brain has so many questions relating to the technical side of things bc I love combining what I’m learning with fantasy to help me understand concepts better but this is already so long and I think the answers to them will differ between different authors so I’ll save you of them

i’ve never heard of that fic and if it has been deleted that is actually a whole tragedy! i believe that i have read every a/b/o byler fic that is there (at least on ao3) and i haven’t ever come across dirty rain. and after just googling it, i’m pretty sure it’s been deleted since all that came up was “deleted byler fic” so 😔

it sounds like it has so many aspects that i love too! i’m a sucker for mating fics where they claim one another and bond - it’s usually so sweet! and it’s even better when there’s a taboo thrown in with an omega claiming an alpha but their alpha wants their mark regardless

i guarantee that it would be talked about a hell of a lot more if it was still available! hopefully the author may decide to post it again one day

also! the anatomy of alphas and omegas is such an interest of mine as well! especially male omegas and female alphas, particularly because it goes against the binary biology that we have in real life so there’s so much that can be explored. if you ever want to talk my ear off about a/b/o biology PLEASE feel free i would love it!

#byler #spicy byler #answered 💌

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polskasroka · 4 months

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Fellow Mel/Od (Melody?) shippers and Hades 2 enjoyers, I kindly invite you to my fic that I've decided to split into 3 chapters because I couldn't wait to post it (initially, I wanted to post the whole 20-25k words of it in one chapter)

Title: A Distraction

Pairing: Melinoë/Odysseus

Summary: According to some inhabitants of the Crossroads, Melinoë should be focused at all times and let nothing and no one disturb her in the pursuit of her ultimate goal. However, at one point, she can't help it but allow a little distraction to enter her monotonous and repetitive life. With the help of the Goddess of Love herself, Melinoë discovers that denying her own feelings is not always the right thing to do.

AO3 LINK

Or Chapter 1 (7,840 words) under Read More

It is night in Erebus, in the Crossroads. It is when Melinoë wakes up from one of too many dreamless or nightmare-filled naps because what she is having can’t definitely be called proper sleep. She doesn’t care, it’s enough. She’s got used to it and can’t even imagine sleeping soundly for a couple of hours, she’s got more important things to do. As long as it doesn’t affect her skills, she has nothing to worry about.

Before she sets off to attempt to reach Chronos and bring death upon him, she tells Frinos a secret or two and pecks his wet nose to then head out of her tent.

“Dora!” Melinoë gasps as she jumps at the sudden appearance of the shade.

“Thought you wouldn’t even flinch by now. Guess I was wrong.” Dora shrugs her pale green shoulders. “So… You going out there again? Haven’t got bored of that yet?”

“Dora, it’s not a matter of me getting bored or not.” Melinoë rolls her eyes and folds her arms, putting weight on one of her legs. “It’s my family. It’s everything that I… we could care about!”

“Yeah. Well, I care about this tent and you, so good luck. Again. Hope it’ll reach you this time.”

“Helpful and uplifting as always, aren’t you?”

“At your service.” Dora then turns into her more terrifying form, with dark green and fang-like shapes to practise and probably humour Melinoë a little too. “Now who dares to disturb my peace?!” goes her haunting voice as Melinoë passes her by with a smile on her face.

It’s raining in the Crossroads. Good. This means that the plants don’t require watering first thing at night.

Melinoë doesn’t just go out there, straight to the woods of Erebus without exchanging a word or two with whoever’s there in the Crossroads. Be it even the Wretched Broker who can only hum so much – it will do as well.

But there’s always someone around. Even if it’s just a minute of conversation, Melinoë will indulge herself in it. That’s what raises her spirits, no matter how actually discouraging some inhabitants’ (Dora’s) attitudes may seem.

After Moros being his usual kind self and Hecate’s wise words of conviction of the inevitable success of Melinoë’s, and despite the goddess not entirely believing in her own abilities at times, Melinoë greets the Wretched Broker and faces Nemesis.

Melinoë still can’t quite wrap her head around what Nemesis’ deal is. Maybe they started off on the wrong foot is all, since Retribution has recently been less hostile than she tends to usually be. Melinoë won’t be fooled, though. She’s wary, knowing that Nemesis has her moods too and, whether intentionally or not, can be quite a pain in the ass that can and will make the other person feel bad.

The Fates’ will seems to be merciful to Melinoë this time, for she doesn’t have to handle whatever mood Nemesis might be in because she’s not in the Crossroads. Melinoë already expects to meet her somewhere out there in Erebus and either compete with her or get something from her for Gods know what reason. As it’s been said – it’s not easy to figure Nemesis’ deal out.

But it’s not the time for it now. A quick praise to Hecate’s familiars, salutations to ever-asleep Hypnos and tending to plants. They’ve grown already and are ready to be picked, and Melinoë does just that. She’s gathered quite a lot of such crops already and the seeds in her bag never seem to end. And if they do – she takes what is required with herself and seeks more out in Erebus.

As she kneels to plant new seeds, she catches herself glancing over her shoulder at Odysseus’ table, as if looking in that direction was to make the man appear there all of a sudden. Melinoë may be a witch but she can’t do that. Not yet, at least. And she doesn’t know if it’s actually possible – should she ask Hecate? No, no way. No, no, no. That would make the Headmistress think that Melinoë’s being distracted by… something unimportant. She can’t be distracted. Not in the current circumstances.

So Melinoë won’t ask such things. She already feels like a fool for even coming up with such ideas. Whatever does she need Odysseus for now, anyway? She’s about to set out and it’s not like he’s coming with her. He’s a tactician. He’s most likely working out some tactics now and he wouldn’t be interested in heading out into the forest with Melinoë, would he?

Stupid. Better do something useful. Better focus on Chronos. Find the Titan. Slay the Titan.

As soon as the thought appears in her head, Melinoë’s off to choose the weapon for this night, take Frinos with herself and a shovel and then run down, hopeful to reach Chronos and slay him this time.

Erebus is not that big of a problem anymore. With ease, Melinoë slides behind and in-between the vile creatures living in the woods, always proceeding, always considering any mistakes, always watchful for any kind of danger that may be lurking around while she’s not watching.

Although it’s not really a matter of being watchful or not, maybe Melinoë should notice or at least try to notice the signs of Nemesis having passed by somewhere, so that she doesn’t land in the same area as Retribution herself. Some competition is important, indeed, but not necessarily in these times, when time is of high value and it seems like each minute, each second can be wasted too easily.

“I’ll start thinking you’re not on our side if you keep doing that,” Melinoë pants, swiping sweat off of her forehead after she’s tossed Nemesis the number of coins she owed her for clearing the area.

“If anything, I’m doing it, so that nothing can surprise you anymore. I thought Hecate trained you well and yet, here we are.”

“I think there are more important things to be doing right now instead of betting which one of us will kill more of those lost beasts. Besides you not being where you should be. I can’t believe Headmistress hasn’t noticed yet.”

“You do not tell a word to her about it,” Nemesis growls, sticking her index finger out towards Melinoë.

“No need to remind me.” Melinoë squints at her, her arms now folded. “If you stay here, she’ll find out herself. Maybe you should go already.”

“Maybe you should too,” Nemesis huffs and stomps towards one of the exit routes. “And focus more or you’ll never achieve your goal,” she adds under her breath and perhaps Melinoë can hear at least some of it.

And she’s nothing but focused. She hasn’t been more concentrated on what she’s doing ever before. This is her task. This is the trial. The one and only. The one that she keeps passing and failing at the same time for as long as she doesn’t fulfil her aim.

Focus more!, Melinoë rolls her eyes at Nemesis’ voice in her head, bouncing around as if only to annoy and distract her. Melinoë has known Nemesis for years, true, but it doesn’t change the fact that when she says such things, it doesn’t help anyone. It actually makes Melinoë wonder how in the name of Hades Hecate puts up with her. Well, no wonder she’s always been so patient with Melinoë in this case.

If Melinoë weren’t focused, she wouldn’t have just bested her Headmistress. She wouldn’t have got a praise or two from her.

They often fall on deaf ears, though. Melinoë may not show it too often but she always feels like she’s missing something. It’s like there’s a part of her that’s not entirely there and it’s a part responsible for some actual self-confidence.

It’s weird if Melinoë thinks about it. On one hand, she’s dead set on reaching Chronos as many times as it takes to fight him and win. On the other hand, however, at the end of the day (or night), she falls asleep or sits at the edge of the water, thinking how unsuitable for this whole endeavour she is. That’s when Nemesis’ words get through to her and sting. That’s when she agrees that maybe it should’ve been Nemesis diving deep into the Underworld and attempting to defeat Time.

Oh but how unsatisfied with such thinking Hecate would be! If she knew, she’d find or invent an incantation that would rid Melinoë’s mind of such concerns. And it’s likely that the Goddess would be glad for that. Maybe she should come up with such a spell on her own when things get back to normal. If things get back to normal.

Keeping her spirits up is no easy task. No matter how many wretched and foul shades Melinoë has killed, doubts are always clouding the back of her mind. Who knows – could it be that this is what’s holding her back? Could it be that all the hesitations are dimming her reason?

“In the name of Hades…” she speaks loud and clear as she looks up at the imaginary skies, Olympus. As if it wasn’t the ceiling of Oceanus shielding her from anything that’s above.

“Oh, gorgeous, it’s you again! As always – I’m happy to help, you know, something a bit different between one battle and another. Some might think that I’ve been so preoccupied with them that I’ve forgotten what my thing is! And they couldn’t be more wrong! I’d never become indifferent to the matters of the heart and neither should you, sweetness!”

“Never even planned to,” Melinoë says more to herself than to anyone, thinking about those for whom she’s got a fight to win.

Her family, friends, everyone in the Crossroads… And all the lost spirits wandering about the realms or hung somewhere in-between life and death, as the latter seems to never come.

Melinoë continues her way through the bottom of the sea, letting herself think about how disrupted the Underworld is. How tormented the souls must be now that they cannot be led to Melinoë’s father’s realm! Something inside the Princess aches at the thought and she kills the last monstrous creature probably more brutally than necessary.

The aching continues, especially as she reaches the Fields of Mourning. It’s as if this area has strengthened the feeling and added some kind of longing to it. It’s weighing down on Melinoë and she knows it’s not the time for such things, she’s got a task to fulfil. But even without the miasma clouds reaching her, she feels the stinging of loss and yearning in her vengeance-hungry heart. Nemesis could be proud. If she’s capable of being proud of Melinoë, that is.

It appears that even the attempt at calming Cerberus down is more doable than making Nemesis proud. Although it’s not always doable when Melinoë comes across the poor three-headed dog, it’s surely much more possible than pulling any sort of praise from Nemesis.

This also shouldn’t be getting to Melinoë’s head this much because she’s actually blaming herself for doing exactly that as soon as the fight becomes too much and she has to return to shadow because Cerberus has turned out to be better than her this time. Melinoë is somewhat glad that it happened, since she hates to think that despite helping the dog, she actually hurts him each time they spar. She does choose to think that she just calms him down but there’s always that doubt somewhere in the back of her head.

At least, she has Frinos who’s been accompanying her for quite a while now. At least, she doesn’t have to worry about him that much. But she’d still love Cerberus to be safe and sound at home, provided that said home is devoid of Chronos and anything that could remind someone about his ominous and unjust presence.

The thought of Cerberus being thrown out of his own place starts a fire inside Melinoë and she decides to go for another attempt right away, without talking to anyone on her way to the gate leading to the Underworld. Something catches her eye on the way there, though, and she stops her energetic step next to her plants. She couldn’t have watered them – she was out, trying to reach Chronos.

“What or who bested you this time? Scylla?” a voice from behind Melinoë asks, causing her to smile lightly and turn towards the sound. She can make an exception for one conversation.

“You underestimate me, sir,” she retorts and walks over to Odysseus who’s stood at his usual spot at the table.

“I would never, Goddess,” he says, mock-offended.

“So what was that?”

“A wild guess.” Confidence and wit beam from him. He then lifts his brow, prompting Melinoë to answer his question.

“Cerberus. Even he suffered in this whole mess. The worst thing is that even if I help him, when I come back, he’s covered in all that woe and misery again.”

“Must be a sorry sight.”

“It is. Maybe he’ll at least get accustomed to me more, however ridiculous it may seem. I’ve even tried to pet him but it must’ve been too soon. I didn’t think about it then but it could’ve ended badly,” she chuckles, drawing the same reaction from her companion. “I shall stick to Frinos, Toula and my plants for now.”

“They don’t try to kill you each time you pass them by, at least.”

“That’s true. Did it rain?”

“I watered your plants while you were absent if that’s what you’re asking.”

Melinoë gasps, her face lights up. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Well, you know I like having them around, Goddess. They bring life into here. You see, watching these shades float around here aimlessly all day can be quite disheartening. They lack any life.”

“You can’t blame them, can you? But I’m happy that this soil can brighten our days and nights, apart from serving its main purpose of providing me with resources.” She pauses for a second and then changes the topic, “but I have to go now. Keep an eye on my plants while I’m away, would you?”

“Anytime.”

Melinoë nods. “May moonlight guide you.”

“And you as well.”

Odysseus bows in a farewell and, as Melinoë walks away backwards, amused, they hold their gazes for a brief moment. Then, there’s that familiar spark in Melinoë’s eye that glimmers in determination that Odysseus admires. He also takes pride in her resolve, since he likes to think that it’s also thanks to him that Melinoë is so tightly clinging onto the task that she’s yet to fulfil. She knows he’s feeling that way, no matter how nonchalant he appears to be about it sometimes.

But his belief in her only strengthens Melinoë’s will to keep trying, whether she goes down to the Underworld or advances towards the Olympus. Defeats aren’t easy, of course, yet, when you have someone or a few someones who care about you and trust in your abilities, the vision of success becomes much more plausible, even if only for a fleeting moment.

This is it. This is what makes Melinoë keep going. This is who she’s doing it all for, apart from all her relatives that have been imprisoned and… well, the rest of the world. The joint forces do help in pursuing her ultimate goal but it’s the close ones in the Crossroads who are worth fighting for. Maybe it’s the immediate praise that Melinoë receives from the majority of her crew there that tells her to break her legs during each run – but even if, so what? Self-improvement at its finest.

It goes on and on as Melinoë traverses the woods of Erebus, slaying all the wretched souls on her way down once more. The thrill of all the close calls only intensifies the nearly primal need to just enter the House of Hades and seize back what belongs to Melinoë and her family. It’s as if it’s making Melinoë feral, fuelled by sheer passion and the desire for revenge; she’s so driven by it that it’s a wonder that she doesn’t encounter Nemesis on her way this time.

Soon, the Princess has arrived at the place that used to be her home. With more passion and even more hatred and anger, she throws herself together with Lim and Oros at all the servants of Time. She’s not the one who’s trespassing, no. They are trespassing. Chronos is trespassing. He has been doing so for much too long.

She is going to cut it short. It will happen this run. Bidding farewell to Charon, she dives into the river, only to reappear at the House of Hades, where those vile satyrs are already waiting for her and for their master’s orders. Disgusting to the core, all of it.

She’s there and it suddenly starts feeling like a waste of time. Melinoë supposes the sudden decrease of self-confidence is Chronos’ doing but it’s weighing heavily on her anyway. In spite of that, she pushes through it and, ignoring all the things Chronos says to discourage her, she manages to make him fall once and force him to rest propped against the floor in the House of Hades. It is a victory, a small one but still. She knows there’s much more to come and to face and the fear of failing grips her from the inside and squeezes. Once again, Melinoë wants to protest and not succumb to it; alas, the opposite happens. Time cannot be stopped.

If it ended with her returning to shadow and emerging in the Crossroads, it would be fine, the usual. But it doesn’t happen and the invisible hand squeezes Melinoë’s insides even tighter. She feels short of breath just as she’d used to feel before she cast an incantation and made herself resistant to the surface air.

For a moment, Melinoë is in some sort of a limbo. Hung between life and shadow, kept there against her will. Try though she might, Melinoë is unable to return to the safety of the Crossroads.

Instead, she’s served a vision of Tartarus, of a very specific chamber there, in fact. She’s painfully aware of the fact that Chronos is again behind all these visions and she can’t be sure whether she should trust him with these images or not. Melinoë would love to think this is all untrue and never happened but something inside of her, something like a gut feeling, is causing her to believe each and every moment she’s a witness to.

So she believes it when she sees what Chronos has done to her father. What tricks he’s pulled to force him to tell the Titan where the Fates are and Hades has always remained silent. No matter how much pain he’s been made to endure, he never said a word. It almost looks like he’s taking pleasure and satisfaction in angering Chronos and Melinoë is proud of her father, for which she’s scolded by the reverberating and distorted voice of Chronos.

There’s ringing in her head because of it and she’s dearly hoping her head won’t explode and her eardrums won’t burst. The tension and aching envelops her head and then the nape of her neck and travels down and throughout her whole body. Chronos’ voice is distant now, though still pulsing and expanding between Melinoë’s ears while she’s being fed the visions of Cerberus getting thrown out of the House by Chronos’ armies. She sees miasmas creep onto him and taint his fur until it’s a sad grey-brown hue. Until it drips with regret and woe that drill into all three of his heads and turn him into a cold and instinct-driven beast.

There are eyes watching her in the darkness. Chronos’ eyes, her father’s eyes, all of the dog’s eyes and hundreds and hundreds eyes of Chronos’ subjects. They all swirl and melt into one mass accompanied by the ringing that’s making the whole image shake and twist, and dim, and Melinoë’s going to go insane and she can’t bear it anymore, and it’s all so scary and she wants to be back in the Crossroads, and she wants to see Dora in her tent, and meet Moros by the Fated List and…

“Get out of my head!” Melinoë yells, her voice all croaky and hurting her ears.

She bolts upright and finds herself sitting in her own stone circle, with Frinos behind her. She glances at him over her shoulder, noticing his confused and worried look, and she’s concerned for him immediately.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you,” she rasps out, rubbing her eyes with her hand. As soon as she’s right by her familiar, kissing his wet and chilly nose, three voices come from the inside of the tent.

“Princess?”

“Goddess?”

“Mel?”

Melinoë sighs and shakes her head, trying to get rid of the remnants of the visions she’s just had and all the sounds that threatened to render her deaf.

“I’m… I’m alright!”

It’s weak and unconvincing and Melinoë knows that. Yet another burden to haunt her for days to come. But she’ll weather it. She has done so before.

Melinoë scrambles up onto her feet and enters her tent, where she meets three figures, each of them sporting confusion and worry of various degrees on their faces.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, Dora.” Yes, totally unconvincing. “Why do you always act like it’s something… out of the ordinary?”

“Goddess, it’s been a while since the last time you…” Odysseus weighs his words carefully, seeing the glare Melinoë’s sending him. “… had a nightmare like this. I always wonder if it’s…” He’s said too much, he’s aware of that. So are Dora and Melinoë. Moros will soon find out.

Say it, challenges Melinoë’s stare but she’s impatient, so she provides them all with it. “Traumatising? For you all – it may be.”

Her eyelid twitches and no one says a word for a long couple of seconds that drag out into eternity. Dora’s too brave for her own good to break the silence each time they find themselves in a situation like this.

“Well, it’s the first time for the horned man here, so… You’re feeling traumatised by any chance?” the shade asks in a half-whisper as she leans over to Moros.

“No, not at all. It’s simply unspeakably sad.”

“Don’t pity her,” Dora adds just as sneakily as before.

“Nothing I’m not used to.” Melinoë lets out an exhale, dropping her look down onto the ground. A split second is enough for her to glance at Moros and notice the unvoiced sympathy in his now mildly concerned gaze. This silent line of communication puts the Princess at ease.

“Anything we could do, Goddess?” Odysseus asks, care lacing his words.

“Yeah, get out of our tent,” Dora says, knowing Melinoë is grateful for that. “Both of you, out!” her voice fades a little as she shoos the two men away. “Really, you could’ve figured that out yourselves. At least you, mister super good tactician. Acting like it’s your first day here, really! Dream yourself a nightmare if you still wanna help.” The shade then comes back to Melinoë, a lopsided and awkward smile on Dora’s lips. “Are you really sure you’re alright, Mel?”

“I’ve told you already. I appreciate your care but… it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me. That Chronos guy is getting into your head too much if you ask me. Quite literally. Talk about it with the big witch, maybe?”

“She can’t do anything about it. It’s just… it’s just me. No one can change that.”

“Looks like the bad boy is doing exactly that, Mel,” Dora states plainly and floats closer to Melinoë, who’s sat down on her pouf. “You see, I’m just a shade here and know nothing about the stuff you do by that cauldron out there but… no sleep spells? Anything of the sort?”

Melinoë ponders over Dora’s words. While there’s certainly a spell of the kind, it probably won’t work on Melinoë. It’s most likely life-changing for mortals and, if lucky, other gods and goddesses, yet not for Melinoë. Not for the Goddess of Nightmares and Madness. She wouldn’t be one without knowing all about these things.

“I know a few,” Melinoë says finally. “But they’re not for me.”

“Not even gonna give it a try?”

“They wouldn’t work on me, Dora. No use trying. A waste of time.”

All the things Melinoë’s seen in that particular dream stay with her for the next couple of days, resulting in her being in a more foul mood than usually. If that’s not enough, her own mind keeps sabotaging her and refusing to sleep as much as she’d desire, so that she wouldn’t risk becoming vulnerable to Chronos’ influence on her.

The Princess understands his motives, though. Melinoë knows far too well that Chronos is intrigued by her doings and maybe, just maybe, a bit afraid of her growing more powerful – powerful enough to finally beat him.

At some point, Melinoë is certain that Chronos would imprison her if she weren’t as elusive as she is. She thanks Hecate for that internally, for having taught her everything that she knows.

But what is it that she knows?

The combat. The will to fight and keep pushing to bring death upon Chronos and feast over his dead form. The deep-rooted need to restore the way things used to be. The habit of remembering about self-growth and self-worth. Maintaining a high self-esteem – something that Melinoë is not the best at.

Spirits leave her as soon as she thinks about that, sitting on the pier and staring at Cocytus, listening to the flowing water. She had her legs hanging over the edge but now she’s pulled them to herself and embraced them, hugging herself, bringing comfort. Sadly, no solace comes and, despite having so many allies and friends around, she can’t cheer herself up.

Melinoë noticed it long ago that she’s got the moments when she’s happy, when the joy merges with and strengthens the determination. But then, some inconvenience happens and she’s dragged down into the dumps again. Melinoë would like to be happier, she really would. Yet, given her task and whatever it is that’s happening in the world, it’s not that easy.

At least, she cries very rarely these days.

“Mind if I join you, Princess?” the sudden sound of the familiar warm voice behind Melinoë startles her. “I didn’t want to scare you. My apologies.”

“It’s alright, Lord Moros,” Melinoë replies, looking over her shoulder at Doom Incarnate. “Here, join me,” she offers kindly and chuckles internally at the other god’s hesitation.

It’s not impolite. It’s somewhat awkward in a really charming way and Melinoë understands that her companion has probably never indulged himself in pastimes that are common in the Crossroads.

So Moros joins Melinoë, now sat down next to her. His sheer presence has something grounding to it, something that makes the Princess stick to the here and now for the time being.

“Princess, if I may, I’ve been wondering if you’re…”

“Yes, I am fine,” Melinoë sighs, knowing the question before it leaves Moros’ lungs. “Please, don’t apologise, my Lord.”

“How do you know I wanted to?” he asks, slightly amused.

“Prove me wrong,” Melinoë says and makes their eyes meet. “Do you have nightmares?”

Moros is taken aback by the enquiry that he didn’t expect. The baffled look on his face brings a smile onto Melinoë’s lips as she keeps observing the god.

“I could bet that you possess this kind of knowledge already. I even dare to say that you remember every detail that appears in my dreams.”

“In nightmares. Dreams don’t interest me that much.” Melinoë shrugs and stares back at the water. “And I could find out what happens in your nightmares if I wanted to. Look into every tiny bit and moment. But I’d rather hear it from you, my Lord, so that I don’t reach the places that aren’t necessarily for my eyes to see.”

“That’s very considerate of you, Princess. And to answer your question – I do have nightmares.”

“What are they about, then?”

“Lately, time stops in my dreams. Either nothing and no one around me happens or moves or I am the one stuck and unable to do anything.”

“It seems that Chronos hasn’t got into my head only.”

“I don’t think it’s something to be compared. Let’s say that our relationships with the Titan of Time are not entirely similar, won’t you agree, Princess?”

“That’s true.” Melinoë nods. “After all, you’re not the one screaming at night, waking up half of the Crossroads. I should be the one apologising to you all.” Melinoë exhales, glueing her eyes to the surface of the water, aware of Moros’ soft and sympathetic look on her.

She hugs her knees even closer to herself and wills her voice not to shake as she continues to speak.

“Lord Moros, I… I do all I can to stop the damage that Chronos is causing and yet… it never seems to be enough. What I mean is that even though he can’t reach this safe haven of ours, he can still somehow drill himself into our minds. Your minds.”

“Princess, you don’t know others’ nightmares, do you?”

“No, why?”

“Then, how can you know if Chronos has invaded the minds of everyone else in the Crossroads? Who knows why I am the one dreaming about time-related matters, apart from you, of course. If I were to guess, I’d say it’s because Chronos has captured the Fates to whom, as you know, I am closely related.”

As Melinoë mulls over Moros’ words, he adds, “what I am certain of is that it is not a coincidence that I dream about such things. The Fates may be imprisoned but they can have other ways that we are not aware of. That Chronos is not aware of, either.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“Let’s.”

With Moros’ utterance being released into the chilly air, Melinoë rests her chin on her knees. Listening to Doom Incarnate’s soothing voice calmed her racing thoughts down and brought the comfort that she was looking for. Although they’ve been talking about serious affairs, Moros’ honey-like tone and clear articulation worked like some sort of a protective blanket that shields one from the outside world. A moment of respite from all the mayhem in the Underworld and on the Surface.

“Princess?”

“Hm?” Melinoë turns to look at Moros once again.

“I hope you don’t find this inappropriate or simply wrong but… Why don’t you meet me in my dreams sometime?” he wonders a tad sheepishly, dragging his eyes up to lock them with Melinoë’s.

“That means nothing but nightmares for you, my Lord,” she answers, sniggering, sparks dancing in her mismatched irises.

“I think your presence there would make it more than bearable.”

Melinoë doesn’t know what to say and she blushes. Moros blushes too.

Next time Melinoë wakes up, it’s not out of a nightmare or because of a nightmare. This morning feels refreshing and Melinoë hasn’t even properly opened her eyes yet. It doesn't take long for her to put two and two together to work out that someone in the Crossroads must’ve had a nightmare – hence her unusual good mood in the morning or, in fact, evening.

Even Dora is surprised with the sight of Melinoë and the aura that’s surrounding her. Obviously, the shade doesn’t spare a comment or two, wondering who the unlucky person or shade that provided Melinoë with such energy was. If shades can dream, that is. Dora surely can’t and she’s on the verge of asking Melinoë to bring her a nightmare but resigns from it in the end. Maybe some other time.

Melinoë almost dashes out of her tent, looking for the poor soul who got caught in the snares of night terrors brought upon them by Melinoë herself. It’s not that she does it on purpose. She could, which is widely known in the area, but it’s not fun for her to worsen someone else’s sleep. She’d rather suffer such consequences on her own, without forcing anyone else to experience such things. Sometimes, however, it just happens and Melinoë lets it continue, basking in the power that someone’s nightmares provide her with.

She knows when someone’s dreams are taking the wrong turn. She is also able to find out who is having a nightmare and what the dream is about. But, just like with Moros, she chooses not to enter others’ minds without invitation. Something that Chronos could learn too.

In fact, Melinoë can let out a relieved sigh when she’s assured that no, Lord Moros did not have a terrible nightmare. She sometimes still treats him like a guest and doesn’t want to infringe the hospitality in any way. The other part of her is getting accustomed to Doom’s presence there and has been enjoying it more and more with time. If it were up to Melinoë, she’d gladly have Moros as yet another inhabitant of the Crossroads.

Coming back to the nightmares – after a quick reconnaissance, it becomes clear that it’s Odysseus who’s fallen victim to night terrors and because of whom Melinoë is so full of life and vigour today. She feels sorry for him immediately, for she knows that all the work he’s been doing for her, Hecate and everyone else who wants the old world back has been more than demanding. And for this kind of effort, he surely deserves some good rest.

“Evening, Goddess! Glad to see you in high spirits,” Odysseus greets Melinoë with the usual melody of his voice, trying not to let the tiredness slip through it.

“Evening, Od.” Melinoë bows her head and smiles softly in embarrassment. “Sadly, the high spirits of mine are all at your expense. Sorry, it wasn’t on purpose.”

“How many times have we all told you not to apologise for such things?”

“It’s not that easy, sir!”

“The thing is that even if you did it on purpose, none of us would mind. No matter what it takes, we will help you find and fight Chronos. Even at the expense of our sleep.”

“Are you sure that everyone here shares this view?�� Melinoë raises an eyebrow and although Odysseus is visibly worn out, he gets the hint and a smirk rises onto his lips.

“Well, to a certain extent – yes. Maybe those who don’t should put themselves in your shoes once in a while.”

The urge to tell Odysseus that this is exactly what Nemesis is doing is irresistible. And, after all, Melinoë wasn’t supposed to tell Hecate – no one has ever mentioned Odysseus.

“They’re trying to. Or they just want to get the task done before me. To prove a point, I suppose.” Melinoë shrugs, glancing at the cauldron and the area around it, making sure that Hecate is nowhere near.

“She’s not going to succeed, that much I can tell,” Odysseus says with conviction, the tone somewhat devoid of its usual power now. It must be the exhaustion.

“Another wild guess or have you and Lord Moros had a conversation about fate and all and that’s your conclusion?” Melinoë folds her arms, amused. At the same time, she’s just genuinely curious.

“That’s what we call an educated guess, Goddess. Though, I wouldn’t recommend it while trying to understand the ways of the opponent.”

“Thanks for the advice, sir.”

“Anytime.”

The Princess follows Odysseus’ advice, as always. She has that tendency to cling onto the words of people she trusts the most. Because why wouldn’t she? Especially when it comes to Hecate and Odysseus; after all, these two have been accompanied her during her journey from the very beginning. They have taught her all that she knows and is capable of. And it’s not Melinoë’s fault that she’s treated Hecate like a mother for longer than she’d like to admit.

It’s the only way in which it could’ve gone.

Somehow, Melinoë has never seen Odysseus as her father, or anyone of the kind, for that matter. Od has always been Od.

The nightmare-fuelled energy and the thought of Hecate’s and Odysseus’ teachings is what keeps Melinoë going today. She passes through Erebus with ease, beating the Headmistress in no time. Oceanus is manageable and so are the Fields of Mourning, with Cerberus causing a bit more trouble than usual. She actually meets him once again in Tartarus, guarding his one and only master while he still can – before he gets thrown out onto the Fields by Chronos’ servants or even the Titan himself.

She talks to her father about the three-headed dog this time, so that they don’t focus on how dangerous and impossible Melinoë’s task is. It’s a welcome change and the topic of the conversation seems to start to form some sort of hope inside old Hades. Cerberus’ enthusiasm and trust towards Melinoë seem to be growing as well, even if only for this moment. It’s something that Melinoë treasures and stores in her heart for when she’s faced Chronos again.

“You’re only wasting your time, little one. I thought you were focused solely on that idiotic task of yours and yet, you have proved me wrong. Making acquaintances and friends with everyone is only slowing you down. Not that you’ve made too much of a progress by now,” speaks Chronos, a wicked smile plastered on his face, his eyes squinting at Melinoë.

“If anything, people I find dear are only making it all faster and smoother, Chronos. But I won’t elaborate – you wouldn’t know anyway,” Melinoë retorts, her nose crinkled up, eyes focused, hands gripping Lim and Oros tightly.

“Silence! Waste of time, all of that! Including your futile efforts in my house!”

Sadly, the Titan is right and Melinoë is forced to return to shadow and emerge with a gasp leaving her lungs. It’s as if she’s just woken up from a deep slumber when she finds she’s lying in her stone circle. It actually looks like she’s been asleep for quite a while and it’s a weird sensation. Her arm hurts in a way that indicates that she must’ve been napping with it under her head. Very strange.

Frinos is also asleep on his stone. The whole area is quite quiet and Dora is also nowhere to be found. Once Melinoë looks out of her tent, it turns out that everyone is sleeping in their own abodes and Melinoë has returned from the House of Hades at an unusual hour.

The problem is that she doesn’t necessarily want to go back to sleep after that. And she doesn’t want to venture out and towards Chronos again either. At least, he didn’t force any visions upon her this time. It’s a relief, something that has Melinoë letting out a long exhale into the chilly air of the Crossroads.

Goosebumps appear on her forearms and she enjoys the feeling. A thought then comes to her mind – why not warm up? Now that sounds like a fantastic idea and Melinoë knows just the spot for such an activity.

Of course, she’d love to have someone to accompany her to the Hot Spring but she’s not going to run around the Crossroads waking others up and asking them if they fancy a soak with her. Maybe it’s not really a custom to have a bath alone but Melinoë simply has to occupy herself with something and a dip in the Springs seems lovely and relaxing.

So she does just that. Melinoë is also enjoying the solitude, for there’s always someone around – be it her friends and allies or enemies and other foul creatures. Now, she can be alone with her thoughts that she effectively mutes out, so that she can focus only on herself and some rest.

Melinoë’s managed to slide down the backrest, so that the water’s now reaching her chin and the warmth enveloping her is doing wonders for her sore muscles. The soft sounds of the woods and the Spring itself are providing her with pleasant ambience and she can’t remember the last time she’d been equally relaxed.

The sensation is only strengthened by some seemingly unknown aura that falls upon the Hot Spring and that is noticed by Melinoë immediately. She opens one of her eyes and then the other and it’s like there’s some inaudible melody lulling her into further relaxation. She smiles to herself but still searches her surroundings for anyone who could be playing such tricks at this hour.

As soon as the Princess faces the other end of the tub, she jumps in her seat, covering her mouth with her hand, disbelief filling her to the core.

“Can it really be…?” she mutters, her eyes growing wider as they’re reflecting the light pink glow illuminating the place.

“Ah, yes, gorgeous, it can!” announces the honey-sweet voice that Melinoë falls in love with the moment she hears it so close to herself. “I sensed you taking a hot bath alone and I couldn’t not join you! You don’t know how difficult it was to reach you down here but, as you can see, everything’s worked out excellent!”

“Lady Aphrodite, I… I’m so glad that you’re here and… honestly, I didn’t think any of you Olympians are actually able to access this spot of ours,” Melinoë admits, eyeing the Goddess of Love from head to toe, unable to hide the amazement caused by her beauty and presence in the Crossroads. “What brings you here, my Lady?”

“You, of course! I may be busy with the ongoing war against that old Titan but I can’t turn a blind eye to what is going on in your heart, despite you so skilfully denying that inner battle.”

“I’m sorry, my Lady, I don’t quite understand, I think?”

“No need to be shy around me, sweetness!” Aphrodite announces brightly and sends Melinoë a reassuring smile. She leans forwards, forming waves on the surface of the water, her long and smooth hair floating in the steaming blue. Having locked her eyes with Melinoë, she continues, “you mustn’t forget about yourself in all this… mess, my dear. It can’t be healthy.”

“With all due respect, Lady Aphrodite, I don’t seem to have time for the matters of the heart these days,” the Princess confesses timidly.

“Nonsense!” Aphrodite waves her hand dismissively. “There’s always time for that, regardless of how much we all hate that word right now. What I think – and believe me, I know best – is that you need to let yourself feel what your heart so dearly wants to feel. Whether it’s towards Lord Moros or… whoever it is that that muscle of yours beats faster for anytime you see them!”

“What if I don’t know… What if I’m not sure who they are?”

“You know this, Melinoë. You’ve known for a long time. Do you want to hear what else it is that I know?” Aphrodite smirks, a spark of mischief dancing in her eye.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Melinoë sniggers, causing Aphrodite to do the same.

“Oh, gorgeous, let me tell you – although Lord Moros is a real looker, someone else has been even more than that to you all this time. Doom himself, despite his terrific looks, merely makes your heart flutter but someone else, it seems to me, makes it race whenever you let yourself indulge in such emotions. And you haven’t done so for much too long in my opinion, sweetness.”

Aphrodite looks a tad offended and Melinoë is nearly sure that the Goddess of Love isn’t bothered at all. If anything, this situation is humouring her. It’s also making Melinoë think about the feelings and emotions that she’s been pushing aside all this time because she’s found other things more important than pondering over what her heart could want. Does it even want anything?

She’s been so focused on the big endeavour that she may have as well neglected that part of her life. But it’s not without a reason, is it? Haven’t the Fates decided that it be this way, at least for the time being?

“You’re a little confused, aren’t you, love?” Aphrodite wonders softly, her eyes kind.

“I am, Lady Aphrodite. Honestly, I haven’t had time to even get lost in any daydreaming. All this mess up on Olympus and in the Underworld has been drawing my attention away from any inner dilemmas that I could have.”

“Spare yourself a while to think about that, then, alright? These matters aren’t the easiest to handle, which I’m sure you know, but I’m only giving you a fair warning, hm? But you’ll work it out. You’ll see how better you’ll feel once you’ve got the hang of it.”

“But, Lady Aphrodite, will it not distract me from my task?” Melinoë asks, worried.

The Goddess of Love moves right in front of the Princess and cups her face between her warm and smooth hands. Melinoë is mesmerised by the appearance and the proximity of the other woman and she can’t say her heart doesn’t skip a beat or two right now. But Aphrodite herself isn’t paying this too much attention, for she knows the effect she has on both humans and gods alike.

Said proximity also helps Aphrodite get her point across, no matter how in awe Melinoë is because of the Goddess. Aphrodite has dealt with worse cases, she can’t be discouraged by this mere display of admiration.

“It may. A little. But fret not, gorgeous, you shall find that it’s all been worth the tiny distraction here and there. After all, do you feel distracted when you know that someone cares for your plants during your absence?”

Aphrodite tilts her head to the side and her smile grows wider at the sudden increase in Melinoë’s heart rate. The young Goddess manages to calm it down but it hasn’t gone unnoticed by the Goddess of Love nonetheless.

“Not much, no.” Melinoë blushes a tad and chuckles awkwardly. “But it’s something really nice to think about before I go to sleep.”

“Stick to that and work on it, sweetness. You’ve got it!”

The brightness in Aphrodite’s eyes fills Melinoë with some newfound will to actually try all the things that the Goddess of Love has suggested. It can’t do too much harm, right?

“Good luck, my dear. I can already tell that something wonderful is going to bloom out of this.”

The awkward smile that’s lingered on Melinoë’s lips transforms into a much happier one when Aphrodite shares a soft and encouraging kiss with her. It nearly feels like this powerful force of love has just flowed right into Melinoë’s heart, ready to be let out and given to someone who’s worthy of that might.

Even though Melinoë wants to say something, probably thank Aphrodite, she stays silent as she notices that there’s no one before her anymore. She’s once again all alone in the Hot Spring.

#hades games #hades 2 #melinoë #odysseus #melinoë x odysseus #hades fanfic #hades 2 fanfic #my post

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