#if i want them to live outside of my head regrettably i have to write them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

romangoldendreams · 11 months ago

Text

my only truth,that´s what nobody can see.

It's not a diary, it's…I don't know what to call it. In my profession, any note is nothing more than that, a reminder that you have to do something.

All those idiots out there who think they know my misery have no idea.

Yes, I will never walk with one arm tied behind my back. But they don't understand anything at all. They think they know me, and they take thousands of photos of me a day, but the more images of me they have, the more they lose their sense of reality.

Because reality wouldn't sell, because the bitter truth is that whoever they call my true love is not.

Because love is no more real than we would like to believe.

They just wonder if I sleep with men, or with women, that's the only thing they think about. At least they don't hide it…I hear them, and I don't answer them. why do it?

It doesn't make sense, because whatever I say will be what they believe.

They ask me about her , Pier… they call her the love of my life, I'm bitter without her.

According to them, my last name is not Dean but Montesco, and she is Anna Maria Pierangeli, but Pierangeli Capulet.

She only gives them the head for that… and nothing will change this fact, even if I die tomorrow.

Isa tells me to shut up, to let it happen. But damn! Even when?

I am nothing they say, I am just myself living my life.

I'm so drowning in pain because Pier abandoned me that I can't even breathe, I have Marlon Brando waiting for me in my bed every night, I watch the Vampyra show, that crazy girl whose name I don't even remember or when I met her… I even that I met Miss. Monroe, the most beautiful woman in America…they make up so many things that I don't even have time to laugh or cry.

When they send me those shitty magazines I just burn them.

Yes, with my cigarette, by myself, in my underwear.

I'm sorry, Marlon. Tonight it happened, you won´t be my lover anymore, gosh, this cup of milk is shit. again, i will come back.

My true love…that's what all teenage girls want to know.

Well, love is nothing more than friendship. It's being at home, it's feeling like someone is listening to you, without stopping to see if they have a vagina or penis.

I know lust, I know sex.

But that tickling that has entered me from my back to my heart, and that made me spend all day with my friend, and on occasions, embarrassing more than regrettable, sticking my body to hers so that it was more than a simple friendship …what is that? I only know that I felt it, and that I was happy with what she gave me.

They say I met true love with a girl who ran off with someone else. And that my heart cried tears of blood, that I was there on her wedding day with my motorcycle.

I have been?

Oh shit. Maybe yes.

But I only know that I suffered with her. My true love broke my heart they say, but more than anything my dignity, but not with my friend.

With my friend I was happy every moment of my life. Because for hours at work, and even outside of it, she was there for me. She never got tired of waiting for me.

She was more than just a friend, she was a mother…maybe she was a lover. I close my eyes and I can imagine it.

I only know that I look into her eyes and I drown, I drown… I have no desire to touch even a hair on her head, and I am already his.

My friend, shit. I love you because you love me, and not even I can write here what I feel about our friendship.

Only without her i would have been dead a long time ago.

Damn I'm not good with words, I never have been.

But you fill me with joy. It is the plenitude that you have given me. I don't care if it's love or friendship. I know what I need, and what you give me.

Jimmy….tells me oh, how she does it!

Jimmy boy tells me when we are… well when she has me naked next to her.

Everyone talks about me. But for once I do it.

When we left each other's cigarettes after filming today, I knew we were going to do it. The ballet.

That we would commit the madness of our exercises.

I've only seen her naked once. But I didn't need more.

Because I haven't had a happy moment with my friend, they all are, that's why I know they are golden. That all of the above is nothing more than a shadow or something like that. I don't know how to say it to make it elegant. I'm not a writer.

She gave me her words, her conversation, she listened to my confessions, she gave me all her support knowing that I am what I am. Just a miserable wretch who does what he really wants. A great painter, a frustated pianist.

Yes, I have a lot of money, I told her

"Oh Jimmy boy and I have more than you," she told me, "you're a bastard when you talk about money, but i love when you speak about your matador skills."

Together we laughed, all our conversations sounds like that. My friend lets me go back to childhood. She takes care of me and gives me ideas, she plays with me.

she invites me to all the places where she´s with her husband and kids. she does not care if i bother them, and i don´t care at all neither, because i´m not there for her family, but for her.

If only they wanted to know everything about me…they would only have to see me with my friend.

And they look at us, over and over again but they don't realize anything.

Shit, being an actor is like stopping being you.

They know everything about your character in the movie and your supposed self, but not about yourself in truth.

My friend warned me. And I believed her.

I'm not talking about Brando anymore. I no longer compare myself to another.

"You're magnificent Jimmy," my friend tells me, "if you believed me, you wouldn't worry, it would just be you."

We talked about everything, the other day we talked about the universe.

I brought a telescope to the set and at night we saw the stars. Everything is so desert…and we gave them names, insults and demons.

We dedicate them to those scavengers who call me Romeo.

Blind, blind, blind.

My friend and I synchronized.

I wait for her in her sleep, and when I sleep, she waits for me.

I never had this with anyone. Not even with my parents. Only when my mother let me sleep in the tent, but she only looked out to see me in the garden, I, afraid, ran to the house.

My mother laughed, but not like my friend.

My friend tells me that I am everything to my father too, I believe her, because when I hear her voice I can't escape it, I can only say yes.

Before meeting her I didn't know what friendship really was, nor what true love meant.

Let those stupid people say, let them write.

Love is nothing more than being at home, with your only family, and your home can be where that person who has proven to give you everything you need is.

Mine was the set of "Giant" with our creepy director. Damned.

But I respect him because she asked me to.

I apologized, I would do anything for her.

My only consolation, I don't believe in God, but I would pray for her to always be there for me. And I know she will be.

That if something separated us we would see each other again. Because I was born to be her friend, I was born so that she loves me in the way she prefers, in the way she can…

Nothing can make me give my friendship again to another woman as I did with her, or to any man. Not even my love wrapped in that friendship, damn it, love is nothing more than a sick man wrapped in the blankets of her bed.

In the friendship.

i knew about human feeling with her. and when i say all, i mean ALL. NOT ONE left without be touched for us.

She´s inside me, she´s me. Damn, even i keep her things now, a lipstick, her cigarettes,and more, she will kill me.

Your company, your company…I fear death. I was once banned from having racing cars and motorcycles for fear of losing their fucking million dollars, but if she knew herself… that I'm more afraid of dying for losing her friendship than for money or going to hell. .

I love you, my friend. But you know it. You know everything about me. Inside and out.

Even if i am the Romeo of a bitch with no personality.

Your Jimmy Boy (1955)

#giant #james dean #diary of james dean #elizabeth taylor #liz taylor and james dean #james dean feelings #about feelings #classic cinema #classic flms #golden hollywood

8 notes · View notes

sailxrmxrs · 3 years ago

Text

i wanted to write something soft and self-indulgent with xyx because i'm a writer and i'm allowed to do lowkey self-inserts if i want to. if you can't write something for your brain's serotonin levels then what can you write for? loosely inspired by a high school musical marathon that reminded me just how adorable the can i have this dance scene is from the third one. also mixed with some of my own personal experiences for the vibes. enjoy some incredibly soft rom-com boyfriend xyx being his best romantic self on a rooftop garden.

Saturdays were, undoubtedly, one of your favourite days of the week. There was no going to work, nor was there the looming threat of further work in the oncoming day. It was the day to spend an extra hour in bed after staying up a little later than usual. It was the day to finally get around to whatever chores or tasks that needed doing. But, most importantly, it was also the day Xyx didn't have to go into the office, meaning the pair of you could plan almost anything at your disposal. Whether that be going out for an extravagant date or staying in with Cat, whatever the plans may be, you were guaranteed to spend the afternoon basking in the other's company. Today was no different, Xyx lounging in sweatpants and an old t-shirt with Cat sitting on his lap and your feet resting on either side of Cat. The morning had passed by slowly, nothing of note planned after the long week left you both feeling all kinds of drained and exhausted. All you needed was a peaceful day of doing nothing in the other's company.

Being early spring meant it was still that little bit too cold for some of Xyx's more adrenaline-boosting activities. So, naturally, you'd both agreed upon a comfy day at home in the warmth. Outside, clouds peppered the blue midday sky, stretching over the expanse of the city beyond your apartment windows. You and Xyx had moved into the apartment building recently, your first endeavour into living with one another since you started dating. It had been going well, the bliss of the relationship still glittering in the sheen of the new apartment. Each morning you woke up to Xyx's face blemished with the tiredness that the early hours brought with them, Cat laying by your feet curled up and content atop the blanket bought especially for them. There was no greater existence imaginable. Nor could you barely remember a time before the insatiable happiness that was being with Xyx. Even now, sitting in silence scrolling on your phones, perhaps speaking or laughing when one sends a funny tweet or video they saw to the other, brought about a distinct sense of bliss that was entirely unique and exclusive to the bond you both shared.

Xyx sighed heavily, his phone now on his lap as he threw his head back on the sofa, closing his eyes as he did so.

"You good over there, love?" You ask, looking up at the exasperation with which your boyfriend radiated.

"Yeah. Just bored."

Moving your legs from Xyx's lap, you shifted over to sit beside him, raising a hand to push his hair back from his forehead. "Oh, you poor baby. Whatever can I do to cure you of this ailment?"

"You joke but can we actually do something?" Xyx looked up, wide eyes and a slight pout in the hopes it's sway your decision further. Not that he really needed it, most of Xyx's requests were met with happy acceptance. But it was still sweet to see him try a little extra softness as a persuasive technique.

"Got something in mind?" You ask, watching his face light up as you nod. His answering grin sent a wave of wariness through you, memories of some of Xyx's past ideas flooding your mind. "Nothing dangerous or too wild, please. I'd rather not have to take a trip to the hospital this afternoon."

"You're no fun," Xyx teased as he gently moved Cat from his lap so that he could stand up, holding out a hand for you. "No hospitals, no injuries. Promise. Now, do you trust me?"

"Regrettably, yes," were your only words as you took Xyx's hands and followed him in his master plan to relieve himself of the boredom that had overcome him. Expecting him to lead you down to your car for a spontaneous trip out for food or to see a movie, you happily let Xyx take the lead. Though, much to your surprise, when the elevator approached and the two of you stepped in, Xyx chose a different course. Any questions were met with teasing remarks to wait and see because how could he ruin the surprise already? Entirely in character and aligned with his usual ways. Xyx being secretive like this typically meant he either had something in mind that where safety was an afterthought, not a concern, or he was planning something exceptionally sweet and romantic that felt like it was lifted from the pages of a romance novel. And, of course, he would never specify which option was about to take place, only deepening the apprehension. Though, even if the former were to come true, you knew deep down you'd never get bored with Xyx.

Eyeing Xyx with suspicion, you folded your arms across your chest. "Are you sure this isn't some plot to get rid of me so you get Cat all to yourself again?"

Xyx's laugh resonated in the elevator, its slow ascent soon approaching its destination. "No ulterior motives, doll. Although now that you mention it, maybe it's not a bad idea aft-hey!" He complained, recoiling from your playful, but strong, poke to his chest. Before you could dispute his claims, the elevator reached a stop and its doors opened, revealing an empty corridor save for a small set of stairs leading to a doorway at its peak. Xyx stepped out, gesturing for you to follow as he began to climb the stairs.

"Are you sure we're allowed to be up here? Doesn't that door lead out onto the roof?"

"If we get caught, it'll just make for the perfect action movie leap off the edge as we leap onto the building next door. Come on, I've got something to show you." Xyx held his hand out once more, his expression genuine and painted with a sincerity he often didn't let show unless the moment truly called for it. Recognising the urge within him, you accepted his hand once more and ascended the small staircase. Once at the top, Xyx instructs you to close your eyes to truly 'savour the surprise', as he put it. The doors open and a rush of cool spring air dances over your face. Your eyes remain closed as Xyx leads you out further into the gentle breeze that brushed the bare skin of your arms, suddenly making you very acute to the fact that perhaps your state of dress wasn't the most appropriate for fighting the elements. Still, there was no changing it now and Xyx certainly didn't care about the slight chill in the air.

"Okay. Now, open your eyes," he instructed from a few paces away, hands gesturing to the rooftop. Looking around, your eyes adjusted the light, uncovering a garden spread atop the roof of the apartment building. There was enough empty space to provide an expansive walkway between large plant beds, small trees and flowerpots. The breeze swept through leaves, sounds of rustling nature a complete juxtaposition from the distant sound of cars and people going about the city below. The clouds filtered the sun's light, casting a dulled film over the view.

"I didn't even know there was anything up here," you mused, taking a few absentminded steps, fingers lightly touching a nearby plant. A pair of arms slid around your waist, holding you tightly against Xyx's chest. "How did you know this was all up here?"

"Oh now come on, love, I could never divulge my secrets like that, could I?" His hands came to clasp onto yours, guiding you to turn around in his arms. "Now, the reason why I brought you up here." He released his hold on your hands and jogged toward the centre of the rooftop garden, sweeping an exaggerated curtsey.

"What on earth are you doing? Aren't the men supposed to bow anyway?" You laughed, watching his face twist in feigned offence.

"If a man wishes to curtsey, he may curtsey. Anyway, unimportant. Might I have this dance?" Xyx asked, waiting for you to accept the offer and join him on the makeshift dancefloor. Matching his dramatic curtsey, you moved closer, letting Xyx take the lead as he started to waltz atop the rooftop. His hand was firm on your waist, guiding you in clumsy steps about all the plants and greenery.

"Aren't you supposed to play music when you dance?" You asked, laughing as Xyx released his grip on your waist to twirl you around, pulling you in again closer; his hand returned to its spot on your waist, sliding ever so slightly lower to your hips.

He leaned in close, whispering in your ear. "Where's your imagination, doll? Close your eyes. It's a ballroom and we're dressed all fancy. All eyes on us, got it?"

Eyes now closed once more, you nodded, imagining the scene before opening your eyes to Xyx ever closer.

"Hi," you whispered, despite being the only ones around. Even now, his mere presence still sent an unshakeable fluttering through your stomach. His effect was near intoxicating. Hours could be spent lost inside his deep green eyes. Not without sufficient teasing, of course, but that was simply another of Xyx's charms and reasons why you adored him so. Your dance had become a gentle sway with no specific rhythm to it. You were simply two bodies basking in the other's presence under the clouded cover of the sky. Though the peace was soon shattered by a few droplets of rain splashing specks onto your faces. Looking up to the sky, it became very apparent there was far more where that came from. The previously pale grey had turned murky, permeating the sky in darkness. Raindrops fell heavier and faster, soon coating the light grey of the rooftop.

Xyx tipped his head back forward to gaze at you, an eyebrow raised. "Why not stop now, right, love?" And so you danced together in the rain, clothes and hair soon soaked through. Despite the cold sinking under your skin, there was no desire to shatter the sweet moment—a snapshot from a romance film you'd once watched together. Xyx held you in close, nose brushing yours as he smiled so deeply and genuinely. It was one of those smiles that assured you of all the emotions he so often kept hidden inside. Seeing him look so softly vulnerable spoke a thousand and one words, all directly pouring from Xyx's heart into yours through that iron-clad grip your gazes shared. He shifted his face ever closer, letting you close the gap between your rain decorated lips, the initial touch sparked by cold than soon dissipated into a shared warmth. Your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck while Xyx's hands were firm on your lower back with zero intentions of letting you out into the cold rain anymore than you needed to be.

"Dancing and sharing a kiss in the rain? I do think we've checked two things off the bucket list there, love." Xyx mused, pressing his forehead to yours as he closed his eyes in contented bliss.

"I didn't realise you had a list," you commented, fingers absentmindedly threading in his hair.

"Only since I met you. Told you I'd gone soft, didn't I, doll?"

You leaned back inquisitively, eyeing Xyx with curious wonder. "What? So was moving in together on there or—?"

Xyx nodded, cheeks somehow turning red even under the cold atmosphere surrounding you both. It was almost as if you'd turned immune to its effect. "Among other things. Which I will be happy to share, in as much detail as you wish. But first, a hot shower is needed because if you're out here much longer that nose of yours is going to freeze off," Xyx stated, a finger gently flicking the tip of your nose, flushed and tender in the cold. Laughing under his teasing touch, the two of you made your way into the cover of the apartment building, adrenaline coursing through you both at the sheer memory of your rooftop tryst. Perhaps living with Xyx was going to be far more innocently romantic than you'd first expected.

#blooming panic #blooming panic x reader #blooming panic xyx #blooming panic xyx fanfic #blooming panic fanfic #blooming panic xyx x reader #i will regularly have nights of listening to the entire hsm 1-3 soundtrack #and with the recent rewatch marathon i needed to immortalise this in some way #can i have this dance has my entire heart and has been one of my fave movie scenes ever since it first came out #and xyx also just so happens to have my entire heart too so it only makes sense to combine them #in some real adorable and beautiful rooftop garden softness #partially inspired by troy and gabriella but also a little memory of mine teehee #anna writes

87 notes · View notes

avintagekiss24 · 3 years ago

Text

—you can pretend you don’t miss me; bucky barnes

pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4049

warnings: 18+ ONLY, knife kink, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, tiny bit of blood, attempted murder

challenge: @cockslut-padalecki a decade under the influence “what if I can’t forget you? I’ll burn your name into my throat”

request: bucky barnes + “i have a feeling i’m gonna get lucky tonight” + orgasm denial

author note: surprise! it didn’t take me two months to write something sjsksjs please enjoy fic #3 of my 5/5.5k follower celebration! also another quick congrats to lisa for hitting 10k!!

inspired by this art ; gif by @zacharylevis ; line divider by @firefly-graphics ; title inspired by billie eilish bitches broken hearts

The taste of bourbon and cigarettes is on his lips and tongue as he licks into your mouth. He moans into you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as he hooks your leg right around his waist. Your back is up against the heavy door of his apartment, fingers in soft brown hair, wet lips smacking and sucking, teeth nibbling on his swollen, red bottom lip. He laughs, relaxing into your kiss and lips and teeth as he anchors your weight in his metal hand, flesh hand rummaging in his almost too tight black jeans for his door key.

There’s a smirk on your face as you pull away from him. Your lips are still touching. Foreheads resting on one another's. Eyes a little shy, only connecting for fractions of seconds before they’re on the floor or a pair of lips. The jingle of keys fills the hallway, then the thunk of one as it pushes into the slot and stops hard against the rusted metal of the lock. The deadbolt slaps back into the door and with a push of his foot, and a little help from your weight being pinned against it, the swollen door scrapes against the frame as it pops open, swinging back into the wall.

Bucky slips his hands down your sides, grips your hips tight as he starts to back you inside. They stay there, those hands, as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours and dip down to your mouth where he licks his lips and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s fantasizing about wanting to feel them again. A metal hand cups your face, his palm warm as he sweeps his thumb along your cheek.

His tongue sneaks out just before your lips meet again to tease the roof of your mouth before he grabs your top lip between his. You both inhale deep, breathing each other in, a concoction of soft and sweet and smoke and warmth.

You’re not sure who moves first, whether Bucky is pushing or you’re pulling— probably a little of both— but you’re inside of his apartment before you know it. The door slams shut. Your leather jacket slips off your shoulders and hits the hardwood floor as you back further inside.

Fingers and hands are everywhere. Yanking at shirts, popping buttons, pulling zippers as lips get more desperate. You back into a set of bar stools, knocking them around just a little as you stumble and catch yourself, throwing your head back as laughter spills from you. Bucky pushes out a breath and a small laugh while he eyes you all hungry like as he pulls at his boots.

You tease him a little, putting those feminine wiles to good use— tilt your head, twist your hair around your fingers, push your tits forward. With your shirt crumpled on the floor, the titanium bars pushed through your nipples catch the soft pink, blue, and purple lights of the neon signs pouring in through the kitchen windows through the sheer mesh bralette covering your chest.

Bucky looks a mess. Hair all over his head, pants open— the band of his Hugo Boss boxers peeking out— plain black t-shirt now in a rumpled pile on the floor. His footsteps heavy as he stalks towards you. He stops short, wraps black and gold fingers around your wrist and yanks, collecting you again to crush your soft body against his hard one.

You tilt your head up towards him, eyes turning to slits, lips brushing against his as manicured fingertips push just inside his jeans. Soft tips sweep over a rigid cock, the size making a sly smile curl onto your face. This one is full of surprises.

“Well well,” you purr, kissing him quick, wet and loud, never taking your eyes off him, “I have a feeling I’m gonna get lucky tonight.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, a breath pushing out through his nose as a lopsided grin paints his handsome face, “Aren’t you a smart girl.”

You curl your fingers around his neck, digging the tips into his messy hair and draw him in— dragging the wet velvet of your tongue over his mouth real slow, watching as his eyes close, “You, bed,” you instruct, “Me, bathroom.”

Footsteps fill the quiet, surprisingly lived-in apartment, the clicks of your heels and his heavy thumps as he pulls you towards the bed. He just points off to his left as he falls onto the mattress, resting a leaden head on a wide palm as he settles in. Eyes blinking at you slow as you disappear behind a white door.

The bathroom is immaculate. White. Sterile. Nothing out of place— very military of him. You undress slowly, removing your shoes one by one before moving on to your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a see through bra, waist high panties— and a black leather ankle holster housing your six inch, hand crafted, butterfly knife.

You lift your foot, place it on the white countertop and slip the blade from the holster before carefully, quietly undoing the straps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up a little straighter, roll your neck and shoulders as you stare back at your reflection. The pony tail comes down, silky hair falling over your shoulders and down your back— best fifteen hundred bucks you’ve ever spent on yourself.

Gotta look good on the day you finally get to kill the Winter Soldier.

With a soft flick of your wrist, the blade flips out and you can’t help but run a manicured finger over the edge, pressing the sharp point into the pad. You find yourself in the mirror again and tilt your head a little as your brain goes a little empty— except for maybe one thought.

You wanna fuck him. You’ve earned it, and regrettably so, you find Bucky Barnes sort of interesting. Funny. Engaging when prodded a bit but still somehow deadpan and aloof.

His huge cock doesn’t help matters either.

You sigh, oh well.

The door clicks as you open it and pass through. You keep your hands behind your back as your body softens— sinks into itself a little. Hair falls in your face as you feign shyness, batting big, soft brown eyes and sinking your teeth into an ample bottom lip.

Bucky took the time to get completely naked. Hard cock gripped in his flesh palm, slow drags from the base to the glistening tip.

God, you really kinda wish you could fuck this man.

“Come ‘ere.”

An outstretched metal hand accompanies the gentle beckoning. You move soft, a small sound of your feet sinking into the carpet before you reach out with your empty hand and slide it into warm metal, using the sturdy grip to hoist yourself up and over his stomach.

His hands find your hips— big, warm, manly hands. They slip upwards just a bit to grip the soft of your sides. Move down again for thick fingers to graze over your ass and tickle the backs of your naked thighs. Still, you palm the handle of your knife tight and high, in the small of your back, as you use your free hand to push the dark strands of hair out of your face.

Bucky’s eyes meet yours when his fingers push between your parted legs, finding a wet spot in those mesh panties. You inhale deep, blinking back at him as his fingers keep a sweet little rhythm back and forth against your cunt. Hips defy your brain and push forward into those fingers— wanting just a little more.

Maybe you can wait… maybe until after...

You lean forward before your brain can finish stringing the words together— you have to or you’d lose all your nerve and give into that weak devil telling you to taste the sin. Let him spread you open until it hurts. Your mouth finds his hot and swollen and you kiss him hard, so hard he groans into it. You pull back just enough to lick his mouth again, eyes bouncing between his.

“What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart? You need more of an invitation than this?” Bucky asks low and slow, pushing his cock right into your ass as his fingers creep inside your panties.

You smile, real nice and sweet before swooping the arm from behind your back to push the knife into his neck, “Oh nothing, baby,” you purr, “Just waiting for the right time to kill you is all.”

You lean back a little to see his face, tipping your head to the side. He’s pretty calm for a guy who’s minutes away from bleeding out on his own bed— but he is an assassin. Not much can shake him— should shake him.

Bucky blinks slow at you, hands coming to rest by his sides. His eyes don’t widen, pupils don’t dilate. Steady breathing stays just the same— he doesn’t even shift uncomfortably. Just blinks back at you. Slow. Easy. Without a fucking care in the goddamn world.

An angry heat blooms across your skin at his nonchalance as the seconds tick by. Your chest starts to rise and fall a little harder. Your eyes start to bounce between his as you suck your teeth in indignation, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

A blink is all you get.

“Of course you don’t,” you hiss, “Why would you? I was just one of many in the wrong place at the wrong time, right?” Your grip on the handle of the knife tightens as you push it harder against his skin— this time he swallows, “Who cares how many innocent lives you’ve destroyed as long as you got what you wanted.”

He still doesn’t say a word, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Just stares up at you as you crack, laughing angrily as you take his silence mockingly, “Well, I couldn’t fuckin’ forget you. Eight years. Eight years of living in absolute terror that you’d come back for me.” You’re seething now, eyes wild, breath coming harder and faster than the one before it, “Constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping at every bark of a dog and clink of keys and slam of a car door outside my apartment— do you know how it feels to live like that? Huh? Expecting to die every second of every hour of every goddamn day?”

Another silence drops over the room and it’s just the two of you staring at each other. You’re not even sure why he isn’t fighting back— why he’s just lying there and then it hits you, like a ton of bricks.

Of course he knows what it’s like to live like this. He’s used to it.

A trickle of blood slips down the side of his neck, the singular plop staining the white sheets below, “I’ve never thought about after— once you’re dead. What if I can’t forget you? I’ve spent so long hating you— it’s, it’s like by killing you, I’ll burn your name into my throat, you know? You’ll always just,” you tilt your head, digging the knife in a little harder, “Be there. With me always.”

The funniest thing happens as soon as the words slip through your teeth. His lips start to twitch. Curl into a smile— one where those pearly whites are on display— and then he’s laughing. Like someone just told a fucking joke.

It makes you recoil. Makes you squint and has your face twist in confusion, lips separating as a heavy breath passes through.

“Well,” he finally purrs, the laughter rumbling through his chest dying down, “Go ‘head, honey.”

When you hesitate, he pushes his chin forward, arch’s his head back to put his neck on full display, “Come on, baby. Don’t get my hopes up and not follow through.”

“You’re insane.” You hiss.

He leans up a little, another smile curling onto his lips, “In this business, you gotta be.”

The words stick in air like glue as he settles back into the pillow below his head, blue eyes twinkling underneath the soft neon lights pouring in through the windows.

He’s fucking with you. Just do it. The words echo, knocking around your brain as you stare down at him, blade still shoved into the crease of his neck. Another drop of blood plops onto the sheets below. Your lip snarls slightly, eyes narrowing as heat flashes across your skin again. He’s mocking you. After everything he’s done, all the pain— the fear.

You inhale deep, grip the handle so hard your nails dig into your palm and instinct takes over. The hatred, the built up aggression and vitriol guiding your hand, about to slash that pretty thick neck wide open. You are more than ready to see a deep red stain white sheets and blue eyes lose all of the life he’s built into them and fade away into nothingness. Just when you’re about to make your eight year long dream come true, it all flashes before your eyes.

Within a blink— half of a blink— you're off his lap, slammed up against the wall opposite the bed, warm flesh hand around your throat. You gasp hard, nearly choking on the air you can’t grab as you start to struggle, slapping at his face before swinging the knife wildly.

Bucky catches your arm with ease, squeezing your hand until you’re grunting and hissing in pain, grip relaxing around the metal. You blink again, and your knife is now pressed against your throat as you growl, struggling to no avail.

“You’re lucky baby,” he mutters, “Nobody survives that long while holding a knife to my throat.” He kisses you hard, digging his teeth into your bottom lip to drag it back with him when he pulls away, “You’re a cutie tho, so, you get a little reprieve.”

He leans back in real close, eyes roaming along your face as his head tilts, breathing easy. Staring back at him, lip curling again as you huff hard, angry breaths beating out of your nose. But your hands have come to rest on his arms. You can feel the blood coursing through the vein that’s popped out right down the center of his bicep. Your fingers flex around metal and muscle, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air conditioning tickles hot skin.

“Of course I remember you,” he whispers after a long time— too long, “I remember each and every face of the last seventy years,” his eyes bounce between yours, “I knew exactly who you were as soon as you popped up on that stupid dating app.”

Another sharp influx of air squeezes out of your throat when he drags the tip of your knife underneath your chin, down the length of your throat, down your chest. Slips it along your stomach before pushing it into the mesh that covers your chest. A flick of his wrist and you’re bare, the thin material giving way to the blade.

Your chest heaves, eyes wide, lips parting as the tip of that blade scrapes along your skin— right between your tits. Brown eyes drop to his red, wet lips quick, then shoot back to focus on his piercing blues.

“I wasn’t sure at first what you wanted,” he whispers, flattening the blade over a piqued nipple, clinking against the metal bar piercing your thick flesh, “If you recognized me after all this time— I mean, with the new hair and everything.”

A hum sounds at the back of your throat, trembling and airy and Bucky picks it up right away— another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The fingers around your throat peel away slowly but he watches you all the while, fire behind his eyes as he tests you.

“You’re a good little actress,” words still soft but full— maybe amazed that you were able to get as close as you did, “But you knew that already, huh?”

You swallow hard, eyes tipping down to watch his fingers drift down your arm. Light little touches, “You have to be when born— ah,” the edge of the knife catches your thick nipple as he slides it across your tit.

He kisses you again, real sweet this time though. Tongue sweeping along your bottom lip as both his encase it, “I’m sorry baby. You were saying?”

Flesh fingers dance along your stomach, sweeping from hip to hip. Just the tips. Feather light drags so you don’t forget about them. His large palm grips your hip, pushes his thumb into the meat of your side and you have to close your eyes— clear your throat to center yourself. To remember why you’re there in the first place.

Sweet breath washes over your face as Bucky rolls your left nipple now into the edge of the blade— kissing you again when you shriek at the quick, sharp pain just to eat the sound. You lose the fingers around your hip, only to find them again suddenly, jumping in slight surprise as calloused pads cup a soft, wet cunt.

Bucky’s still blinking slow, fingers pushing along a swollen clit, massaging. He’s real close now, prickly cheek rubbing against yours, teeth nibbling at your jawline.

Your own fingers dig into his biceps as your eyes flutter with the tightening of your stomach. A warmth starts to spread through your veins. Hips find a little rhythm against his hand. A sharp prick here and there as he circles that knife— your own damn knife— around your tits and back up to your throat again.

That’s when he sinks two long, thick fingers into you, not stopping until his palm is flush with your sticky folds. His thumb pressed against the sensitive little nub at the center of you.

His eyes are slits, head tilted up slightly as his mouth hangs, dragging in the air you expel. Only then does his fingers start to move, delving in and out, thumb still pushing along your clit.

“God,” you pant, pushing your head upwards against the wall, “Mmm, I can’t—” his fingers push deeper and the words are gone, like they never even existed in the first place, “Fuck.”

Bucky pushes the smooth blade against your throat just a little harder— the sharp edge forcing your chin upward a little more. He flattens his thumb against your lower stomach, starts to pull his fingers, not push them. The heel of his palm starts to slap against your skin as you buck into the motion.

Your hands slip up to his shoulders, both arms wrapping lazily around either side of his neck. The soft hum from earlier is replaced with high pitched whimpers and breathy little squeaks. Bitten off words fall from your lips as you squirm against the wall, wanting him deeper, faster, harder— which he delivers without you having to say a word.

He grabs your cheeks, pinching hard as the blade flattens across your pouty lips. A weak, desperate whimper sounds, all your resolve gone. Whatever leverage you thought you had completely wiped away— and it makes a wicked grin spread on Bucky’s lips.

“You close, baby? Hmm?” he hums, licking at your mouth again, “Oh sweet girl, you wanna come, huh? You gonna come for me?”

He strokes your clit with the tip of his thumb, your walls clenching around his fingers. The gentle encouragement continues, real soft and between sweet little kisses all over your face. A dull ache settles in your belly, a thick heat starting to stir within. Your heart leaps into your throat as your hips pump with Bucky’s hand, the release so close you can taste it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, “‘m gonna fuckin—”

“You want it? Huh? Want me to make you come honey?”

You squeak in response, nodding fast as you bite down into your lip, “Please. Please.”

Heat ripples through your body as you start to tremble, legs going shaky and weak. Muscles start to burn all over as you tense hard, coaxing the sweet agony swirling in your stomach. You cry out, his name hanging on your lips as the rush of it all pushes higher and higher.

Just as you start to unravel, just as the coil begins to snap, his fingers are gone. Pulled from your cunt and clit. You’re whipped around his body, forced back towards the bed. Your mind racing— maybe you’ll be getting some of that cock afterall.

Or not.

Metal slaps around your wrist, bites into the skin as it clamps down, the clink of teeth sliding into the lock housing ringing in your ears. You snap your head towards the sound when it all finally connects in your murky brain. The horror of realization floods into your veins— blood running cold as your stomach drops to your feet.

The handcuffs clink against the dark metal headboard as you fight against it, “You bastard! You fuckin’ piece of shit, let me go!” you shout, thrashing your arm back and forth, pulling as hard as you can, “Goddamn it— let me the fuck go! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you bast—”

“Ooph,” Bucky jests, octave rising as he slips back into his jeans, “You got a filthy little mouth on you.”

“Fuck you!”

He scoffs, laughing gently as he pulls his black shirt back over his head. The bastard even starts to hum as he plops down on the edge of the bed, taking his time while he pushes his feet back into his boots and shrugs into his jacket.

You keep sharp eyes on him as he stands and turns to face you, dangling a pair of small silver keys next to his grinning face before he tosses them somewhere deep in the apartment. You swipe at him with your free hand as he approaches, just barely catching his chin as he kneals down, “I’m gonna kill you,” you smile, a blind rage engulfing every pore, every muscle, every ounce of your body.

Bucky shrugs, “Not tonight, sweets. Listen, tell Sam I’m sorry about the mess, hm?”

“Who the fuck is Sam?” you hiss.

He looks down at his watch, “Yeah, he should be home in about an hour. It’s not everyday you walk into your apartment to find a naked, wannabe assassin handcuffed to your bed, so, give him my apologies— wait, you know about Sam, right? The new Cap, they made it official a couple of weeks ago.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare back at his smiling face, more humiliation pouring through you as you realize he’s had you pegged the entire goddamn time.

“Oh baby,” he laughs again, “You didn’t honestly think I’d take you back to my place, did you? I don’t even know you— you kids today are so reckless.”

Blue eyes bounce between yours for a few seconds before he glances down at his hands, works them back into his black gloves. He pulls your butterfly knife from his back pocket and starts to play with it, flicking his wrist to close it, and then open it over and over again.

“I’m keeping this,” he offers as he locks it closed and slips it back into his pocket, “Maybe you’ll find the balls to try and take it from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “I’m taking it back.”

Bucky stands, the sound of his heavy boots sounding through the apartment as he moves towards the door, “I look forward to it kiddo.”

***

If there’s one thing you respect about Bucky Barnes, it’s his attention to detail.

Right on the dot, exactly one hour later, you snap your head towards the front door as keys start to jingle in the lock. With the bed sheet wrapped loosely around your torso, you straighten up against the wall, eyes wide as you watch an exhausted Samuel Thomas Wilson walk into his apartment.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouts, jumping slightly and dropping his bag to the floor when he locks eyes with you, “What in the fuck?”

“I can explain… sort of.” you start, holding up your hand.

You apparently don’t need to. Sam’s phone is to his ear within seconds as he starts to pace back and forth, “Bucky, this is not why I gave you a key to my mother fuckin’ apartment!”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #decadeundertheinfluencechallenge #5k...holy god

773 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Fully Completely 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

Anyways, I’m rambling...

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door

💀💀💀

The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.

You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.

You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.

With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.

You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.

A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool.

You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.

You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.

“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”

“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.

“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”

“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”

You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike.

He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”

“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”

You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.

“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.

“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”

You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.

“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.

“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.

“Well, I know you’re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.

You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.

“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”

“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.

“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”

You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list.

“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”

“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”

“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.

“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”

“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”

“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”

“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.

He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.

“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”

You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”

“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.

“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.

“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”

You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.

“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.

You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.

“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.

“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”

The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.

“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.

“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”

You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.

“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.

“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”

“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”

“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”

He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint.

You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it.

💀

The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.

You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.

You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.

You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”

“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.

“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.

“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.

“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.

“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.

“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”

“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”

“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.

“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”

“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.

She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.

“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”

You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, ��interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”

You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.

581 notes · View notes

rezzyromance · 3 years ago

Note

What would happen if Heisenberg found reader’s diary?

What if said diary had a written confession of a crush/feelings?

I think he would be very giddy + cocky about it. He would tease reader making off handed comments with certain words she used in her diary to describe him until it clicked with her that he read it.

NSFW is not necessary but encouraged 🥴

Being greedy I’d like to see another prompt with the roles reversed - reader finds his diary.

Ps I love your writing 💕

Oh my god please this is so good.

NSFW +18 (CW: Sexual talk, but no actual sex. Nothing too specific.)

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back as your body relaxed, soaking in the hot water of a bath you made for yourself. The parts of the factory that you often roamed in were often cold, so it was nice to have a hot bath from time to time. As much as you were curious about the other parts of the factory, Karl made it clear to you that he didn't want you wandering around them. He wanted you to stick to the more "livable" parts of the factory like the bedroom, bathroom, and occasionally his office.

Your relationship with Karl was just a close friendship. You were someone who he felt like he could trust and you gave him company. While he only saw you as a good friend, you had regrettably grown feelings for him. Much more intimate feelings. Sleeping in his bedroom since there were no other bedrooms in the factory didn't help either. He didn't sleep often as he was too devoted to his work, but when he did it was often on the couch in his office. You felt bad practically stealing his bed from him, but his bed became a safe space for you as it still smelled like him.

After bathing yourself and relaxing a little bit longer, you pull the plug on the tub and begin to get out. Once you step out of the tub, you look around and realize something is missing. You forgot to grab a towel or clothes to change into. You groan and walk over to the bathroom door, opening it just enough for your voice to travel out of it more clearly. "KARL! KAAAARL!", you cry out for his attention. "WHAT?!", you hear his mumbled voice yell from his nearby office. "I FORGOT TO GRAB TOWELS AND CLOTHES FOR MY BATH. COULD YOU PLEASE GO GET ME SOME?", you ask. The air was dead silent, but you know he was groaning quietly to himself. "FINE!", he exits his office and you hear as he moves towards the bedroom. You then walk back over and sit in the now empty tub, patiently waiting for him.

He grumbled the entire way to the room. He hated being interrupted, but he knew if he didn't help now then you would just continue to beg. He goes into what used to be his bedroom and rummages around, looking for some clothes to get you. He tried not to think about how weird it was that he was digging through your belongings. He found a warm looking sweater that was on top of a chair. When he pulled it from the chair, something fell and hit his boot. He looked down to see a book. A diary. He chuckled slightly to himself when he realized you had a diary.

He reached down and picked it up, contemplating on whether or not he should put it back or snoop even further. He always did wonder why you stick around the factory. While the living area of it is safer than outside, it seemed like a depressing life to live, roaming only a few rooms in a large factory with little interaction. But still, you stuck around and seemed to almost enjoy it. He begins to open the diary, hoping to find some answers to his questions.

"Tonight is my first night spent in the Heisenberg factory. The factory itself is quite intimidating, but intriguing. To think that Karl built this army all by himself. He's so smart, I hope my presence doesn't drag down his success... and he's letting me sleep in his bed. He said he doesn't sleep much to begin with, but I feel a little bad like I'm intruding or something. Oh well."

He chuckles. The comment "He's so smart" slowly goes to his head, inflating his ego. He turns a couple more pages and continues to read.

"Today, I was bored and lonely. Karl usually says to not interrupt his work, but he was just in the office space. I thought maybe I wouldn't be too much of a distraction if I just popped in. What I didn't know was that before I entered, he had been recently doing some metal work in the hotter parts of the factory. The last thing I was expecting was to open to door and see him shirtless and sweaty. I couldn't move. He had this look in his eye that expressed his frustration, but it almost look animalistic.. like a predator viewing it's prey. I can't get the image out of my head, but I really don't mind."

He remembers that day. He was frustrated about you interrupting his work, but had no idea you were so flustered about him being shirtless. Animalistic? The words seem so sexual in a way. Could you be insinuating some sort of attraction? He flips through some more pages.

"While Karl does have powers to control metal, he still does his fair share of labor work. Today, he let me follow him around the factory while he worked because I told him how I was bored recently. I didn't think he'd actually let me join him. Could he possibly have grown some sort of attachment to me? It seems so out of the ordinary for him to agree to something like that. Maybe I'm just letting my hopes get the best of me. Either way, I couldn't help but notice the way he grunts when he's doing strenuous work. They made my mind wander. And I couldn't stop staring at his arms as he works. His muscles and veins bulge out of his strong arms whenever he handles something heavy. I just couldn't stop thinking about how sexy he looked. I hope he didn't notice."

He was shocked by the words, but a grin grew on his face as he processed them. He never realized how infatuated you were with him. The concept began to make him feel powerful. He continued to snoop.

"Last night, Karl made some sort of huge achievement in his inventions. I've never seen him so excited. He laughed so loud and it made my heart flutter to see him so happy. We celebrated by drinking. He doesn't usually drink, but he was just too happy and felt like celebrating. I drank enough to get tipsy. It was enough to fill me with almost enough confidence to make a move, but I never did. I couldn't sit still in my seat, though. He looked so relaxed in his chair as a cigar hung from his mouth. His eyes pierced through the smoke and I couldn't look away. He looked me up and down so much last night. What could have been on his mind? I wish I did something to show or tell him how I feel. I can admit to myself that I love him, but will I ever be able to admit it to him?"

The words caused him to freeze. "I love him." His brow furrowed as his feelings confused him. Why did these words make him feel so strange? He turned a page again.

"My mind is completely clouded with him. So many things I want him to do to me. I want him to make me beg. I want to feel his rough hands grip me all over. And I want to know what that scar on his lip feels like against mine. It's my favorite of his scars. His rough body has so many stories to tell and I want to be the one to hear them. I want to hear the way he grunts again. I want his powerful eyes to be fixed on me again. All I want is him."

His face is flushed and he noticed his pants slowly started to feel tighter. A new sense of power stroked his ego. A power over you that he never knew he had.

"KARL! WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY TOWELS AND CLOTHES! I'M GETTING COLD!", you shivered in the empty tub. What could have taken him so long? Your muffled complaints snapped him out of his nosey gaze. He quickly throws your diary onto the chair, unaware that he left it open, and gathers some clothes for you before rushing out. He grabs some towels on the way and opens the bathroom door slowly, sticking only his arm out with the towels in his hand.

"About damn time. I was worried you were gonna let me die in here." you make your way over to the door, reaching for the towels. As you reach, he suddenly raises his arm, causing the towels to no longer be in reaching distance. "Beg for them.", he says. You can't see his face, but you can tell that he has a grin stretching across it as he says this. You freeze. "What?" "I said beg for them. Go on." Your heart begins to pound in flustered confusion. "P-please...", your cold, naked, vulnerable body gets covered in goosebumps. "Louder.", he shakes the towel to taunt you. "Please!", you reach up and grab a small part of the towel. You hear him chuckle behind the door. He begins to pull on the towel, slowly pulling your body forward. You try to keep your feet on the ground and keep your balance. If he keeps pulling, you're bare body would be in his sight from the crack of the door. Why is he doing this? "Karl please! You're being a jackass!", you try to verbally assert your dominance but fail. "An animalistic jackass, perhaps?", his own words cause him to let out a cocky laugh.

It suddenly hit you. He knows how you view him and how you feel about him. He finally lets go of the towels and you wrap them around you, panicking over his new discovery of your feelings. There's only one way he learned all of this. Your diary.

You pull the door open and begin to run towards the bed room, your feet slapping against the cold ground. "Where ya goin' (Y/N)? You forgot your clothes.", he smiles and begins to walk in your direction. You make it into your room and rush over to where you normally keep your diary. You see it laying wide open. You cover your mouth as your face grows hot. His foot steps grow louder and closer until they stop as he stands in your door way. He pushes his sunglasses over his head, resting them on top so you can see into his eyes which you apparently loved so much. He whistled to get your attention and your head jolts in his direction. "Hm. What's that?", he points at your diary and fails to hide a grin. "You dick.", you mutter, embarrassed to all hell. "Yeah, but at least I'm a strong, sexy, animalistic dick. At least, according to you.", he laughs and throws your clothes in your direction, walking down the hallway to leave you alone for now. But, this definitely won't be the end of his teasing. (EDIT: I forgot to mention that I will be doing a similar story where the roles are reversed another time. Thank you anon for the amazing request.)

#re8 #heisenberg x reader #resident evil village #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg headcanons #karl heisenberg headcanon #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenburg

312 notes · View notes

syrupwit · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I’d love to see the “Telling scary stories that turn out to be real” prompt for the Origins or Awakening crew!

Hey, thank you so much for this! I've been holding onto this prompt because I love it a lot. In keeping with what I believe to be the spirit of dadwc, here's an incomplete but not incoherent first draft attempt. :-)

Under the cut, please find ~1000 words of the Awakening crew, with minor Anders/Nathaniel Howe, for @dadrunkwriting.

(This is set in the same AU as a longer Anders/Nate fic I've written, caveat emptor!, but reading that fic is not necessary to understand what's going on here. Just know that they're married, for reasons, and there's an Orlesian Warden-Commander.)

Winter storms had come to the arling of Amaranthine, and the inhabitants of Vigil’s Keep were trapped inside. As they gathered by a hearth together one cold night, with the wind howling outside, the Wardens agreed as one that they would tell stories to pass the time.

They made a cozy, if ragtag, tableau. On one end was Sigrun, sat as close to the flames as possible. On the other end was Justice, whose armor still had frost clinging to it, and who had claimed for himself the coldest spot that the fire’s light still hit. Warden-Commander Caron sat about halfway between the two of them, wrapped in furs and drinking deeply from a cup of mulled wine.

Oghren sat at the Warden-Commander’s back; Velanna sat across the hearth from Sigrun; and Nathaniel Howe and Anders sat a little off from the others, draped around each other like a big pair of cats. Ser Pounce-a-lot, a regular-sized cat, lay curled up before the hearth, dozing. Everyone but Oghren and the cat had cups of wine.

“Velanna,” said the Warden-Commander. She was flush-cheeked from her wine and over-solicitous. “Is there anything from that journal of yours that you’d care to share? You’ve been writing a lot lately.”

“I suppose,” said Velanna guardedly.

“If your stories are only for the Dalish, that’s fine. You don’t need to show us.”

“No, there are one or two that I might share”—she was becoming flustered under the attention— “but it would have to be the right moment. And the right mood.”

“Ooh!” said Sigrun. “Velanna’s been writing dirty stories. Look, she’s gone red.”

“I have not, dwarf! Why is that where your mind goes?”

Nathaniel cut in. “I have a story to tell, if Velanna wants time to prepare hers.”

“A dirty story?” said Oghren, sluggishly but with more interest than he had displayed all evening. He had now been sober for nine days, following an especially regrettable turn at the ale cask, and everyone was a little scared that he’d explode or something. It was his longest attempt at sobriety that they had witnessed.

“What is wrong with you all?” said Velanna.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with you perverts?” said Anders. “Nate’s terrible at telling that kind of story. Trust me.” He kissed Nathaniel’s ear, then tucked his chin in the crook of his neck, winding his arms around him more tightly.

These gestures of affection failed to pacify Nathaniel. “It’s not a dirty story, and I’d thank you to show a little more loyalty, Anders.”

“You love me for my honesty, come on—”

“I’d like to hear your story, Nathaniel,” the Warden-Commander interrupted.

“Of course, Commander,” said Nathaniel; and after further ado, but not much of it, he began.

STORY OF THE WITCH OF AMARANTHINE

When I was a young boy, and we went to Amaranthine, there was a woman there who everyone knew was a witch. I don’t mean the one who sold the largest apples in the marketplace; it was only my boyish fancy that took her for a witch, and while I was afraid that she might one day steal my head and turn it into an apple to then be sold, these were not fears I voiced aloud.

The witch of Amaranthine lived in a small and shabby cottage in the outer part of town. I saw her only once, early in the morning when we were leaving the city. She had wild white hair that sprung from her head like a mass of spun wool, uncombed, and there was madness in the bright eyes that peered from deep within her leathered face. It wasn't a face I'll forget, I'll tell you that.

Everyone knew she was a witch. Children ran from her path. Drunks refused to pass by her home, even when it was on the way to their own. Thieves and criminals didn’t bother her, and the Chantry left her alone—the Reverend Mother believed the old woman to be a harmless, misunderstood fool, and would hear nothing else from any Templar. The witch, I believe she just wanted to be left to her business. But one day a man came to Amaranthine who had no respect for the witch.

I don’t remember what he came there for, or where he came from. Perhaps he was a smuggler, or a maleficar, or any sort of person plying any sort of trade that is generally frowned on by people who follow laws. My memory gives me scraps—he lived on wine and oysters, he refused to misuse our Lady’s name and once attacked someone for doing so in front of him, he had a silver hoop through his lip—but I can’t tell what is real and what I’ve embellished or imagined. But he threatened the witch with some consequence unless she paid him. And she did not pay him.

He came to collect one night. No one heard anything; it was a quiet night, her neighbors said, even as quiet as the witch usually was. The next day, the man was gone, the witch was gone, and the witch’s cottage was gone. The ground where the cottage had been was left bare, the foundations gone as if they had been lifted away, no sign of whatever fateful confrontation had taken place except a large bloody stain on the earth. And, though it has been planted over now, the stain remains, the soil there still red at least a foot deep.

There was a quiet moment at the end of Nathaniel’s tale, or half of one, at least. Then:

“Yawn,” said Sigrun. “Boring!”

“I’d like to hear you do better,” said Nathaniel.

Sigrun took a swig of her wine and wiped her mouth on her sleeve vehemently, as if she meant to intimidate him. She flashed a grin at Velanna, who gave her a quizzical look in response. “Oh, I will.”

“I want to go after Sigrun,” said Anders. “I’ve just remembered a tale that will knock you all flat on your backs.” Oghren grumbled something that wasn’t worth repeating, and the Warden-Commander laughed.

Across the room, Justice stirred, as if his memory had been jogged as well.

[Up next: Sigrun’s story! Anders’ story! Justice creeps everyone out with his story! Oghren contributes the saddest tale! The Warden-Commander has a very short but punchy one! And Velanna, at some point, manages to get a word in edgewise, and maybe a few more after that.]

#anders-did-nothing-wrong #dadwc #dadwc fill

7 notes · View notes

beyondspaceandstars · 3 years ago

Text

While You Sleep

Chapter 12

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: kidnapping, violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“They couldn’t take that from me. They could never take you.”

“I never want to bring you pain or worry, okay? That shouldn’t be what… we do.”

Bucky’s words rang in your head as you sat in the lonesome cell, fighting for release any way you thought to try. But naturally, these attempts of wrangling yourself out of this had fallen flat and you weren’t trying anymore, that’s for certain. It only made the restraints dig into your wrists more. Not to mention you were beyond tired hitting a point of exhaustion that you didn't know was possible. You weren’t given a chance to relax as you sat on edge, waiting. Waiting for what - or really who - you didn’t quite know.

Sure, you had an Avenger for a soulmate (at least, that was what you considered Bucky, despite his humbleness) but you weren’t exactly up to date on their enemies. From your understanding, between the looks of the facility and your soulmate’s history, this was seeming like the work of Hydra. But they had been abolished...right? Apparently, you didn’t know anymore and doubts rang in your head as you feared you weren’t some random victim.

The first signs of daylight were just beginning to peek into your cell from a very tiny, thin window located near the top of the wall beside you.

Suddenly, a grumbling voice called from outside the cell. “She’s up.” You whipped your head towards the sound, just barely able to make out a figure illuminated by the early morning glow. There was probably some comment to make to whoever this was about how you hadn’t really slept but you couldn’t find your voice at the moment.

“Excellent.” A deeper, possibly older, voice called from down the hall. The man sounded way too excited for your liking. Your stomach threatened to empty its contents as heavy footsteps began making their way towards your cell.

When the steps stopped, you tried squinting through the minimal light but still couldn’t make out much of either man. If you had to guess, they looked like some doctors of sorts in long lab coats with notebooks in hand. One thing you definitely could tell was that they didn’t hesitate to stare back. You could feel their eyes taking you in over and over again making your heart pound in a weirdly familiar way.

“Does she speak?” The first man asked with a humorless scoff. You twisted in your wrist restraints wishing for some courage to get up and maybe put space between you.

Mustering a scrap of energy, you turned away from the men, hoping maybe your matted hair falling in your face could block them out forever. Because really, couldn’t this be forever? How would anyone know what happened? Your best bet was your coworker noticing your absence but then you thought of Bucky… He was away for now and by the time he caught wind who knows what would be of you. Tears began welling in your eyes at the thought of this being it for you -- whatever this was. You still weren’t sure what about you compelled these men to kidnap you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” the same voice called out to you this time, pulling you from your troubling thoughts. Slowly, you turned back to him, taking in more of the doctor (fake, you guessed) persona now. “I asked if you speak.”

“No,” you grumbled. You didn’t know where this smart response came from but it made you feel a bit better like you were coming back to yourself. Really, though, you were in no position to start getting smart with anyone.

He let out a joyous laugh that sent far more fear through you. “The Soldier’s soulmate has an attitude, huh?”

Soldier? Bucky. Your heart panged at another thought of him. If that’s who they were referring to, this was to be about Bucky, you realized. These men knew him and whatever connection was festered there, it hadn't fizzled and you were caught in the crossfire. This actually couldn’t be them… But it looked like it.

Suddenly, the cell door opened with a loud screech, and the two men walked into the full glory of the morning sunrise. There, on their white coats, you saw an emblem of what appeared to be some tentacle-bearing creature. Your suspicions were regrettably confirmed.

They walked towards you, their eyes looking over you as if you were an experiment and they were memorizing you. With fear racing through you, you slowly began scooting backward trying to get as far away as you could. Your back eventually hit a wall and they just kept coming.

“Quite the squeamish one for being chained to The Soldier,” the second man observed, writing something down in his notebook. You could see now that he was much older, having that wiser look in his older years. You guessed he was a leader of sorts (at least, that was how you were going to file him in your head) and the other man, the one who was so kind to comment on your attitude, was some kind of assistant. You couldn’t take your eyes off the logo on their coats as it was practically screaming in your face. It all felt impossible and yet here you were, in the belly of the beast.

“W-What am I doing here?” You asked, your voice scratchy and nervous. Honestly, you were just glad you had the guts to make any noise. The assistant looked a bit humored at your question.

“Wow, she speaks full sentences,” he commented with an unsettling smirk.

The “leader” of the pair shot him a look before turning back to speak to you. “We have some observing to do, my dear,” he briefly explained.

The vagueness of it all was certainly not helping you - like anything realistically could in this moment. Still, you pursued it. “Observing?”

He hummed in response, turning back for a moment to write a few more lines in the notebook. Truthfully, you wanted to just kick it out of his fucking hand. Your eyes flicked quickly to the assistant but he wasn’t handing out any hints, just looking at you like you were something to be conquered. Oh, how you wanted to vomit on their shiny dress shoes.

“I will explain our intentions to ease your mind,” he snapped his notebook shut, “but first, you are to be moved.”

And just like, as if his words were keys, a hoard of men entered the cell and hoisted you to your feet. You tried kicking and screaming but they were strong. Maybe too strong. A strength you possibly could only recall in two other men you knew. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as they corralled you easily and forced you down the hall.

Everything was dark again. There was no light from the windows in the hall, just some musty glows of lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. You didn’t know where to look so you just stared downward, taking in the metal flooring that made you chilled.

After turning a few corners, you were brought to a much larger cell. This one at least had a chair, but you didn’t think it was exactly a nice grand gesture as your eyes landed on the restraints attached to it. The second thing you noticed was some sort of computer-like machine and rolling tables which lined the side. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought this was just another medical office.

You yelped as one of the large men threw you on the chair, not giving you a second to even adjust before your hands were unbound only to be rebound by the chair’s restraints. You tugged a bit at them out of reflex, finding them as sturdy as expected. Your legs were free, though, maybe offering some tactic but exhaustion and fear overtook you.

Once they deemed you settled in, the army of men left, walking in line as commandingly as they had entered. The leader and his assistant stayed, waiting for you three to finally be alone once more. The door shut with a disturbing bang, really sealing your fate. The assistant stayed off to the side, leaning against a wall adjacent to the chair. The leader walked over to you, taking a seat on some rolling stool. Wow, these guys really thought they were serious professionals or something.

“I hope the trip here was okay,” the leader said with a chuckle. “Comfortable?” He motioned towards your lounging state. You blinked. “I see we are losing that attitude. What a shame, really. I’m sure your soulmate loves a firecracker.” Your body visibly tensed at the mention of Bucky. The elderly man didn’t miss it. In fact, it seemed like you unintentionally gave him the perfect segue into his whole evil spiel.

“Ah, yes, your soulmate.” The leader nodded as if he had just forgotten all about it. “Well, you see, the fact he even has one was news to us,” he shrugged and glanced at his assistant who nodded in confirmation. “We were sure when we wiped him we were wiping everything, so imagine our surprise when we find out he’s out and about dancing - with you on his arm.”

Your throat tightened as the memories of you and Bucky at the dance hall flooded your mind. It had been so busy that night you never would’ve thought you’d have to worry about someone… It sounded so ludicrous to you. You almost wish he hadn’t said it as the thoughts of that night were suddenly a bit darker. The carelessness you two had held seemed foolish now.

The leader watched you carefully. When you didn’t say anything in response, just blinked away more tears, he continued, “At first, we were quite angry we had missed something so big. We could’ve sworn we broke every attachment time after time but, as I said, you just swept The Soldier right off his feet. So, naturally, our sights were set on eliminating you.” He let out a ridiculous hearty laugh. “But then my assistant here,” the man in the corner waved in response, “realized that that would be a waste. There could be potential here for you. For you and your soulmate. Potential rooted in a team. Two unbreakable soldiers, both in bond and skills. What more could Hydra want?”

You gasped, your eyes growing wide, at the explanation. You didn’t know what to do now, your body had a mind of its own as it began shaking your head furiously as your wrists tugged and tugged at the restraints. This wasn’t realistic. They were absolutely mad. What kind of foolishness was this? They couldn’t possibly -

“Now, now,” the leader chuckled and turned to his notebook. He began checking referencing stuff from the monitor to the paper. “Don’t get too excited. We’re still brainstorming the whole concept and while it’s not near execution, it is on the promising side. There is, though, a vital component we seem to be lacking: your soulmate.”

Bucky… Your heart felt like it was going to rip itself out of your chest. Was he walking into a trap? Assuming he was walking in at all? Who was to say he had any idea of what was going on with you? How long could this all be for… You let out a surprising sob.

The leader responded to your outburst with an annoyed scoff. “There’s no reason to cry, dear. He’s sure to be here soon thanks to that little bond you have. If he hasn’t already recognized your distress by now, well, he’s not as smart as we thought.” He shrugged and began typing away on the monitor’s keyboard. “The whole attachment may all work out in our favor after all. Eventually, you two will be reunited, and won’t that be just lovely?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know anymore. You had no doubt in Bucky’s fighting abilities but these guys were… Well, they were pretty much responsible for him and everything you had seen him be put through. Who knows what they could do if (and when) he walked through those doors. You were lucky you hadn’t passed out yet from this anxiety alone.

“Besides, as I said, it’s all later down the line anyway,” the leader said. It had suddenly occurred to you at that moment that you were very glad he hadn’t given out his name. You couldn’t imagine humanizing these monsters. “For now, though, we are interested in learning more about you. I’ll be honest, on paper you are quite boring. Barely finished high school, left college for a coffee shop job… The pairing is almost comical. We just can’t figure out what you offer him and while, really, who are we to question Fate? But I still think in time we can figure out...well, whatever it is about you.”

You shook your head slowly, your eyes barely even able to focus on him anymore. Everything in you felt so heavy. “I’m not special.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” the leader chuckled. “He makes you special.”

As if on cue, a chorus of screams erupted from the hallway. You all jumped and turned towards the door. There was a little window on it but all you three could see were the bodies of the army of men from earlier flying about.

“Sooner than we expected,” the leader mumbled and began furiously typing something into the computer.

You didn’t know what to do besides sit there and wait for whatever was coming. Deep in you, you knew it was Bucky, you could feel it. You could feel him. But there was also a part of you that could also sense… rage. A very familiar, unsettling rage burned within him. It made you wonder if you actually wanted to see him in such a state. Some sick piece of you wished they had just knocked you out.

There wasn’t much more time to consider what you were going to do as the door to the cell was ripped off. Literally, fully, ripped away at the hinges to reveal a very determined, very angry, Bucky. He had an expression you didn’t recall seeing before, even in the nightmares. He looked ready to murder everything in its path but there was no calculated strategy to the madness. It seemed to be just him and his pure desire to eliminate anything and everything. His eyes were locked deadly on the older man, seemingly opting to ignore you. The assistant had begun shifting further away into the corner of the space.

“So nice of you to join us,” the leader said with an unsettling laugh. “I’ll admit, we weren’t expecting you so soon. I barely got a chance to get to know your little darling here.” He motioned towards you.

“I’m only going to ask this once,” Bucky finally spoke, his voice strained, “let her go.”

The leader smiled, “I’m not sure you’ll be asking for anything in a moment, anyways.” He motioned towards the computer. You and Bucky followed his motion with matching bewildered expressions. “In fact, I think you’ll be the one doing what I ask.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “No-,”

But it was already set in motion. With a simple press of a button, the room filled with an electronic voice repeating a series of words in a foreign language. You looked around, unsure of where this could even be coming from and what the hell was being said, Your eyes eventually settled on Bucky who looked completely… lost. You gripped the sides of the chair, begging for this to just be over, as you watched that was so familiar. You could feel the memories rising from the depths of your brain. Hidden away, nearly suppressed... You gasped. The nightmares. That’s what all this was. They had pulled the trigger.

As much as you loved and trusted Bucky, you couldn’t say the same for the other guy. If in that state, could he even recognize you? Like, fully understand your role? You didn’t want to find out, truly. The panic that was settling in now was unlike anything you had experienced that day. Not even the idea of Hydra goons kidnapping you had sparked this much within.

You were preparing yourself for the worst as you watched Bucky try to shake it off. The leader wore a proud expression while the assistant kept his lonely distance, watching everything unfold. Suddenly, Bucky began mumbling to himself as his hands made hard fists. You thought the blow was finally coming and he was going to be gone. Just like that.

But then Bucky lunged. In one swift move, he pounced on the leader, taking everyone in the room off-guard, especially the target of the aggression. The older man hadn’t even had a chance to put his arms up before your soulmate was punching him relentlessly. Bucky’s yelling in the process was of pure, expressive anger, completely drowning out the screams of pain from the leader. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to look away so badly but you were also hypnotized. Bucky was so determined and unwavering in whatever goal was planted in his head. A bit thankful someone would go to such lengths for you, you had had enough of such danger in your sleep - you didn’t want it in your reality.

Bucky switched suddenly to strangling the man and that seemed to be the final straw for the leader’s life. The older man was soon just a lifeless, limp body on the floor. Bucky was still knelt above him, watching the soul drain from his victim. Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t turn this off.

The assistant didn’t help it as he made some foolish break for the exit but Bucky was just as fast. In a couple of determined strides, Bucky yanked the younger man back by the neck and threw him into the wall creating an artistic indentation. The assistant fell to the floor with a chilling thud.

There was no one left for his sights to land on except for you. Slowly, Bucky turned around. A shiver ran up your spine when your eyes finally met. You didn’t know who was standing before you. Whatever or whoever this was quickly began stomping their way towards you. You shut your eyes and flinched away, waiting for a painful, finishing blow from the Soldier.

But it never came.

Instead, all Bucky did was lean over to turn off the speakers and then began untying your wrists. Hesitantly, you turned to look at him but found he wouldn’t look at you, just was intensely concentrated on the restraints.

“B-Bucky?” Your voice was scratchy as you fumbled over his name.

“It’s me, doll,” Bucky responded with an exhausted sigh. He sounded normal to you, his demeanor not even looking close to what you remembered from the nightmares. He… He was okay. Bucky still wasn’t looking at you as he finished one restraint then went on the next.

“You’re not…”

Bucky shook his head. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled. “We’re getting you out of here.”

“We?”

“The team is outside handling the other men.”

“You all came for me?”

Bucky finally looked up at you. For the first time, you could see just how tired he looked. A man nearly on the brink of defeat and enduring the fight. Your heart ached as all you wanted to do was crawl into his arms and take the longest naps of your lives.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bucky nodded. Gently, after the last restraint was undone, he picked you up bridal style. You threw your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder, letting yourself relax and the tears flow.

“Thank you,” you mumbled but Bucky didn’t respond as he carried you out of the facility

***

You must’ve fallen asleep because a few hours later you awoke at some sort of compound. You were lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed but nothing about this place looked like a typical hospital. The technology was too advanced and everything just seemed too quiet. You looked around, letting your eyes adjust to the bright light of the sun shining in from the large room windows. In the corner, you were greeted by the sight of Bucky sleeping awkwardly in a chair.

You twisted in the bed, trying to get more comfortable under the blanket. The super-soldier hearing must’ve kicked in because one ruffle of the blanket made Bucky’s eyes shoot open. He looked at you, panic shifting to relief when he saw you were awake. Quickly, in a few steps, he was out of the chair and at your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly. His hand went to touch your cheek but he must've thought better of it and instead lowered it. Your heart broke a bit wondering what self-deprecating thoughts were running through his brain after everything he had to do.

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore,” you shrugged but boy was it the hard truth. You hadn't been in a comfortable position in hours and endured being thrown around like some rag doll.

“Do you need any medicine?” Bucky asked, his voice suddenly having an air of panic to it. “I can call for help if you need it. Are you hungry? Do you need water? Or - Or just anything to drink? I can get you-,”

“Bucky…” You placed your hand on his to calm down. He flinched at your touch. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

He shook his head. “Nothing is fine, sweetheart. You were taken from me-,” Bucky cut himself off as his eyes began welling with tears. He looked wrecked as he stared down at you, taking in your current state. You felt the pain, wanting nothing more than to make all these torturing thoughts vanish. “You… You saw things that I just… I never wanted you to deal with-,”

“It’s over.” You took a deep breath. “I’m here, I’m safe, and you’re with me.”

Bucky closed his eyes as if preparing for something. “After what happened back there, do you even want me around anymore?”

Your jaw went slack at his question. Sure, there was absolutely no denying that the events of today scared you, most likely more than you realized. You had only seen Bucky that determined and violent in your nightmares so to see it just steps away was jarring. But you also knew nothing changed within him. He wasn’t a robot or anything. He wasn’t someone just taking commands. He had remorse. You certainly couldn’t say the same for who greeted you in your sleep. It may take you some time to adjust, sure, but you weren’t turning away. At least, you were going to try not to. Healing was just beginning.

“Of course, I do,” you said, raising your other hand to Bucky’s cheek. At first, he flinched but slowly he leaned into the touch, sighing like he was letting go of something. “Bucky, what happened back there… You had no choice. I don’t have to tell you that those were some very, very bad people. They had it coming and the fact you went to those lengths to save me is unbelievable.”

“I’d go to the ends of the Earth for my girl,” Bucky admitted.

You let out a weak giggle. “Thank you.” A pause. “May I ask how you figured out I was in trouble?”

Bucky smirked. “I had a nightmare.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “A nightmare?”

He nodded, “I started to feel weird after leaving for the mission like there was something I was missing. A little later on, I was taking a nap and you of course appeared but it was unlike any other dream I had ever had about you. It was… You were scared, deathly afraid of something, and then I saw what was going on. I practically watched it all play out from your apartment and on. It didn’t take too long to put everything together.”

You hmm’d. “Thank God for nightmares.”

Bucky chuckled and placed a light kiss on your forehead. “Thank God for nightmares,” he repeated in agreement.

134 notes · View notes

papermatisse · 3 years ago

Text

→ started: 7/13/2021

→ updated: 5/17/2024

↘ 𝗕𝗬𝗨𝗡 𝗕𝗔𝗘𝗞𝗛𝗬𝗨𝗡

♔ Inquiring Minds || [One-Shot], [F], 2.7k

The students of SM University have their attention on the popular history professor and his secretive lifestyle. Student Beomgyu finds a person who may hold the answers to what's on everyone's minds.

♔ Lost and Found || [One-Shot], [F], [A], 3.5k

Love comes with all kinds of sacrifices, and after everything she'd sacrificed for her own hopeful romance, all she really wanted was a lover to live with for the rest of her mortal existence. Though the universe—and for that matter the gods who inhabit it—has a cruel sense of humor.

↘ 𝗢𝗛 𝗦𝗘𝗛𝗨𝗡

♔ flowers & pomegranates || [One-Shot], [F], [A], 28k

The story of Hades and Persephone, but I made it Sehun.

♔ Oasis || [Series], [F], [A], [Crack] WRITING!

EXO: the nine member superhero gang protecting the city of Exodus. For years, they've done just that. A sudden turn of events leads them all stressed, confused, and paranoid beyond belief. A paranoia which could either lead them to answers or turn them against one another— turn them against their city.

↘ 𝗬𝗢𝗢𝗡 𝗛𝗬𝗨𝗡𝗦𝗨𝗞

♖ Opia || [SMAU], [F] COMPLETE!

yn falls for ballet dancer, hyunsuk, but gets way too into her own head.

↘ 𝗝𝗜 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗠𝗜𝗡

♘ Sandbox || [Semi-SMAU], [F], [Crack] WRITING!

Two streamers, who share many commonalities, meet and befriend one another. They're faced with both criticism and support for something not even they are necessarily aware of just yet.

↘ 𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

♘ apartment 5d || [One-Shot], [F], [Crack], 8k

(y/n) had just moved into the city and was still getting accustomed to the onslaught of noises all around, coming from both outside her apartment and within the building itself. through the thin walls of her new home, she becomes inadvertently invested in the lives of a couple who live just next door and seemingly don't know she can hear everything they say, as well as everything they do.

↘ 𝗪𝗘𝗡 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗛𝗨𝗜

♗ False Pretenses || [One-Shot], [A], [F], [Regency], 19.5k

Wen Junhui was the epitome of perfection. Tall, handsome, intelligent, kind, a gentleman, and the list goes on for miles on end. So it is only expected that this man of everyone's dreams was regrettably taken already, right? Betrothed to another, and so condemned from being pursued by any other? But what's to happen if he himself begins the pursuit with another?

↘ 𝗞𝗪𝗢𝗡 𝗦𝗢𝗢𝗡𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚

♗ Bliss || [One-Shot], [A], [F], [Hanahaki], 7.6k

Waking up with no memories, no recollection of who she once was, was a terrifying, near debilitating experience, but maybe with the help of a kind stranger, recovery could come sooner than expected.

♗ Let Me Try Again || [One-Shot], [A], [F], [Exes to Lovers], 30k

Soonyoung leaves for college, abandoning everyone he loves. He comes back and everything has changed. he attempts to find semblance in the myriad of change, as well as a home in a place he left behind him.

↘ 𝗝𝗘𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

♗ The Ultimatum || [Request], [One-Shot], [A], [Forbidden Lovers] 6.3k

Wonwoo is living a peaceful and happy mundane life with his partner, though outside forces and responsibilities prompt wonwoo to make a tough decision.

↘ 𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗬𝗨

♗ Snowbound || [Series], [A], [F], [Crack] WRITING!

"I was at peace before you came; why have you disturbed me? You have given me new wants and now you trifle with me as if my heart were as whole as yours..." Mary Shelley, from 'Matilda'

↘ 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗜 𝗕𝗘𝗢𝗠𝗚𝗬𝗨

♧ As You Are || [One-Shot], [A], [F], [Regency], 6.7k

A lady is expected to wed early, lest she grow out of a desirable age before meeting her significant other and producing offsprings. So what happens to someone who manages to surpass this narrow age range without having married?

↘ 𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

† Masterlist || [Anthology], [H], [A]

An Anthology of the thoughts which keep me up at night.

NETWORKS: @k-labels caratlibrary

#masterlist #exo masterlist #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #kpop masterlist #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #sehun fanfic #sehun fanfiction #sehun fic #cix masterlist #tbz masterlist #the boyz masterlist #svt masterlist #seventeen masterlist #cix fanfiction #tbz fanfiction #seventeen fanfiction

94 notes · View notes

thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 4 years ago

Text

Leona x Reader: Insecurities

This was an angst/comfort story I’ve been meaning to write up for a while now. I finally finished it and am a little iffy about how the ending turned out, but I needed to get it done so I could move on to some other requests. There’s also a hint in there about a future personal headcanon prompt that I will write up when I get the chance.

Rated M because of a reference to bad language and the black market for women (it’s very brief and for the most part subtle but I’m just warning you)

Warnings: angst, language, violence, kidnapping, fem!reader, mention of sexual slavery

If you would like to know what Kahaba means you can research it online. It is swahili but it is an inappropriate word and isn’t necessary for the plot line.

The flowers swayed lightly in the breeze, spreading their natural perfume across the area. You inhaled deeply and sighed. The sun felt lovely on your face and bare shoulders.

The shirt you wore had no sleeves, only straps which criss crossed in an elegant pattern on your back. A string of beads fell across your chest and the pants you wore were thin and billowy. You had received the outfit on the morning of your second day at the castle. Despite your boyfriend's lack of royal manners, he was still the second prince of the savannah and so you were treated like royalty as well.

Now you stood in the castle gardens all by yourself, per your request, and simply enjoyed the peacefulness of the area around you. It had been a long week filled with feasts and parties that left you utterly exhausted. It was no wonder that Leona wanted to sleep all the time. You couldn’t imagine how anyone who didn’t have the energy of an eight year old could live in such a bustling environment.

The amount of maids and guards that seemed to follow you everywhere was simply ridiculous. You were plenty capable of taking care of yourself and it wasn’t like any bad people were after you anyways. You doubted that most outsiders even knew you existed, much less the fact that you were spending the holidays in the castle. After much persuasion you had convinced them to leave you be, for at least thirty minutes in the gardens. Nothing could possibly go wrong in that amount of time. Turns out you were wrong.

A whistling sound quickly came to your attention and something whizzed past your ear. “What?” Another whistling sound drew your attention and you turned to check what could possibly be coming at you. A searing pain made itself known in your shoulder. You grabbed it quickly and yelped. Your eyes looked around for the source of your pain and landed on an arrow embedded in the ground.

Confusion and fear spread through your body as another arrow latched onto your leg. You shut your eyes in pain and cried out as your leg buckled. No, I have to run. Goddamnit instincts now is not the time to take a break. Adrenaline should have had you up and running by now but instead your body felt sluggish. It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened. As numbness spread through your shoulder and leg you fought valiantly against the sedatives which worked quickly to put you down.

The gardens blurred into a painting of abstract colors and you distantly noticed a person approaching you. “Why...sleepy...who…” Your voice slurred your words till they were nearly intangible and you felt the last sparks of fight being extinguished. Patches of black dotted your vision as you sank into the vulnerable sleep that you knew could be your demise.

-------

Bubbles. Bubbles were forming underneath you and pushing you towards the surface. It was a pleasant feeling but you couldn’t help but notice the worry that gnawed on your heart as the surface approached. You knew that above the water was where you had to go, and yet a part of you didn’t want to leave the comfortable warmth that the water provided. As the surface drew near you began to understand why you didn’t want to escape the water. A dull pain in your shoulder and leg quickly turned into a harsh sting. Your head throbbed and bright light stabbed at your eyelids in an attempt to damage the fragile pupils hidden behind them.

Finally and regrettably you were pushed through the top of the water and flung into consciousness. As if you really had needed air you started panting and coughing violently. Your throat was dry and your lungs constricted painfully every time you wheezed in another breath. After a few more minutes of hacking you realized it was probably due to the temperature in the room. Each of your fingers and toes were numb to the point where they would barely respond and unconscious shivers wracked your body.

“Ha look who woke up!” A voice echoed through the room and made you wince as your head throbbed in response to the high volume. A man in about his thirties chuckled and made his way over to you. As a first response you struggled, trying to put distance between yourself and the stranger. It didn’t work however since you were tightly tied to a chair. The man chuckled and leaned down so he could look straight into your eyes.

“You poor thing. I had originally planned on kidnapping you for ransom but it turns out that the royal family isn’t all that interested in having you back.” Your blood ran cold. No. He’s lying. Leona probably has people out looking for you at this very moment.

“I can see you trying to convince yourself that I’m bluffing. It’s truly unfortunate. I really could have used the money. However, you are attractive and young enough that I should be able to fetch a pretty penny for you on the black market.” You squirmed and flinched backwards when his hot, rank breath hit your face. You hoped he planned on using the money for dental hygiene. Not that it mattered. Leona would rescue you. After all he loved you.

“Leona will come for me. He loves me just as I love him. There’s no chance in hell that you will be allowed to get away with this!” The man stepped back at your outburst and looked surprised for a moment before breaking down into hysterical laughter.

“Oh man that is one of the best things I have ever heard,” he trembled, trying to contain himself, “I contacted your so called lover and he told me it wasn’t worth his time. Said he would rather take a nap than deal with this. Your prince has made his decision and I have made mine. You will be a fine slave, as long as we cut off that worthless tongue.”

You wrestled with the ropes harder in a desperate attempt to escape. Tears slipped down your cheeks and thoughts of hopelessness invaded your mind. Would Leona really do that to me? Of course he would. It’s all been a lie. He doesn’t love me. He’s too lazy to love anyone. That stupid lion! Mentally you shushed yourself. These thoughts were ridiculous. The man was obviously bluffing. This man is a kidnapper you can’t trust anything he says.

A ring drew your attention back to the man in front of you. He had gotten much closer and was now standing directly in front of you. The sound of a facetime call being received echoed in the dark room.

“What?” An annoyed but familiar voice came through the phone and you smiled realizing who it was. It would all be over soon. Leona would come for you and you would be safe.

“Good afternoon your majesty,” a growl reverberated through the device, “I am giving you one last chance, give me what I want and you can have the girl. If not,” the man flipped open a knife and pressed against your cheek. He dragged the tip of the blade down to your lips, leaving a ribbon of crimson behind. “I’ll take her tongue and her body. Don’t you think she would make a fine kahaba, prince of the savannah?”

A sigh came and you could almost imagine your boyfriend rolling his eyes. You nodded to yourself to try and reassure yourself that he would come for you no matter what. “For the last time she’s expendable. Do what you wish but don’t call me again. I have a date with my bed.”

The beep of the call ending cut through the tension in the air and confirmed the man's claims. Dread and hopelessness bubbled up in your stomach and filled you with horror. He really never loved you. The realization numbed your cheek and the rope burns on your skin. Leona’s words repeated themselves in your head.

Distantly you registered your kidnapper reaching for you. There was hardly any response when he roughly grabbed your chin and forced your lips apart. Two dry and bitter tasting fingers yanked your tongue forward and you whimpered in response. The man chuckled and pulled the knife back out, although you could barely see what he was doing through your tears.

“Now stay still Kahaba, we wouldn’t want to further damage that pretty face of yours now would we.” The man raised his hand and you squeezed your eyes shut as a stinging sensation hit your tongue.

----------

Startled, you opened your eyes and instinctively reached up to feel your tongue. The muscle was still intact although you did taste blood in your mouth. Feeling around your mouth, you realized that it wasn’t a knife that had sliced your tongue, it had been your teeth. A sigh of relief left you.

Quickly you realized that you weren’t tied to a chair and you weren’t in a damp room. You were in a large and finely decorated room. It was dark but not pitch black since moonlight and starlight filtered through the open windows. A calming breeze blew in past the beaded curtains making your skin prickle in response.

It was then that you noticed your shivering. The savannah often had pleasant weather even at night and your soft sheets and blankets had kept you comfortably warm without being overbearing. Although the days had been almost sweltering, the night was a very enjoyable temperature. Nothing to illicit shivering on the level that you were. It became apparent that you were not so much shivering, more trembling.

A nightmare. That’s all that it was. You wrapped your arms around yourself and moved out of the bed so you could get to the bathroom. The light stung your eyes but you bared it until they adjusted. Splashing cool water on your face you let your mind wander back to the contents of your dream. Soon tears slipped down your cheeks and into the porcelain sink below.

“Kahaba” The word echoed through your mind and you sobbed harder. Shaking you sunk to the floor and stifled a cry in your palm. The cold tile reflected your image and let you see how pathetic you looked. Crying over a dream. No wonder Leona didn’t love you. The cries stopped as you paused. But Leona does love me. It was all just a dream so why am I worrying. Sniffing you repeated the logic in your head as you cleaned up your face and tended to your puffy eyes. If you went to sleep like this then they would surely be red and irritated for the rest of the day.

A sigh left your lips once you had calmed down enough to feel tired. Willing yourself not to think about the nightmare you laid down and attempted to find sleep. Yet as hard as you tried, sleep would not come.

----------

Leona growled when he sensed another presence in his room. He sat up and glared into the darkness. His cat eyes quickly adjusted allowing him to spot his sister in law standing by his bed. His growls ceased and he raised a questioning eyebrow. It was unlike her to enter his room in the first place, nevermind the middle of the night.

Scenarios clouded Leona’s head as he remembered that you were staying in the palace as well. Normally if something happened he would only find out about it afterwards or if his help was needed, but if something had happened to you then naturally as your lover he would be informed immediately.

“What happened? Is everything alright? Is it y/n? Is she hurt?” Farena’s wife shushed him and held up a hand.

“Y/n is unharmed although I do believe she had a nightmare.” Leona relaxed and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was walking by on my way to bed when I picked up sounds of crying from her room.” He tensed up again. Crying? You had never mentioned having nightmares before.

“Thank you for letting me now.” He said before she left the room. He pushed his covers off despite his body telling him to lay back down. The hallway was dimly lit so it didn’t disturb his eyes while also being easy to travel. When he made it to your room he leaned his ear against the door and listened carefully. He picked up on the sounds of your breathing and noticed that they were fast and inconsistent breaths. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear you crying he could pick up on your distress scent and your body was obviously coming down from a panicked state.

Leona carefully pushed open the door and your breathing stopped. Knowing that you had already noticed his entrance, he sighed and closed the door behind him. The prince made his way over to you and laid down on your bed behind you. The mattress dipped and shifted as your boyfriend's warmth moved closer. He wrapped his arms around your stiff form and pressed against your back, whispering a low “relax” in your ears before you finally let your tense body unravel itself.

Minutes of silence passed where the only things heard were your mixed breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets. Then Leona rolled onto his back and pulled you so your head was on top of his chest. You gasped and froze. His heartbeat thrummed in your ear and you could feel the rise and fall of his ribs with every breath.

“What was your nightmare about?” You were shocked to find out Leona knew about your nightmare, but you supposed someone could have heard you crying through the walls. For a moment you lay there quietly, trying to determine how you should explain it to him. When you felt that you had gained enough confidence, you started at the beginning of your dream and recited the events that followed.

When you got to the part where Leona decided that he didn’t need you, Leona growled and tightened his grip on you. By the time you finished you felt like crying again and you were sure your face was burning with shame. It was hard to admit weakness to anyone, let alone Leona. He probably thought that the dream was for the most part right, and that you were too weak to be an adequate mate for him.

The lion man sighed.

“Well let me start by saying that the dream you had is a load of bull,” he mentally winced at how harsh he sounded. He had never been good at this kind of stuff. “I would never let you get kidnapped. Nevermind leave you there.” his tone softened and he tilted your chin up. “Listen, I’m not good with words and things, but I do understand my feelings for you clearly, and you mean so much more to me than anything has. I would never sleep again if it meant keeping you safe.” Your eyes widened at this. “I love you. Nothing is ever going to change or get in the way of that.”

Taking a moment to process what he had said, a thought struck you.

“Leona? You don’t think I’m weak do you?” The lion stiffened then relaxed beneath you.

“Of course not my little herbivore. I believe that you are very strong in ways that other people aren’t. Even me.” You smiled and nuzzled into his chest. Your insecurities had been proven incorrect and you suddenly felt exhausted after all that worrying. Underneath you, Leona began to purr as your breathing evened out. Tomorrow he would console you further, but for now, he was happy to see you rest.

#twst wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst leona #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona x mc #leona kingscholar x you #leona kingscholar x reader #savanaclaw #angst #nightmares #swahili #reference #twst x reader

255 notes · View notes

readerinsertfanfiction · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you can do Kakeru Manabe dating Momiji’s twin sister. She was also born with the zodiac curse, and like they tell everyone and are ready to tell Akito and he doesn’t improve, how would everyone react? Including Manabe. Would they defend her and try to make him agree to them dating? Thank you if you read this have a good day or night sjsnsnsj 😅 ALSO IM SORRY IF ITS TOO MUCH DJDKWNDK

Heya! While I do write for Fruits Basket (thank heavens for another fandom in my inbox for once lol) I write reader!inserts not the story of your OC that you don’t feel like writing out yourself. So what I will do is write a Kakeru Manabe x reader story with a character that has the zodiac curse, but otherwise there will be no Momiji’s twin, because I sure hope that the OC has more of an identity than just being a copy of Momiji.

A/N: Of course I write a Fruits Basket piece on the eve of Lunar New Year. 😅😅😅 HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE. 🐮🐮🐮

Fandom: Fruits Basket

Character: Kakeru Manabe

Prompt: Sohmacursed!reader

He slept in the flowerbeds without a care. Earning complaints from many. The school council president dared to roughen him up in public, earning a surprised look as the image of prince charming broke. He did everything differently and earned no ire, only more fans for the actions he took. Kakeru Manabe was a strange individual that went against the grain and that had your attention. Someone who was capable of pulling out a different side out of everyone.

Affable was a word that would suit him. Along with attentive, for he always thought and minded the rest first, even while he slept in flower beds, or did something silly that earned Yuki’s fist once more. Kakeru Manabe was, by all accounts a charming young male that had deserved his spot in popularity despite his ditzy outer appearance, if only because of something dark hidden beneath. It was attractive, for a Sohma at least. For they often lived under a façade as well, for they often craved the genuine attention of those surrounding them.

And here was the danger for you, for a Sohma was not supposed to interact with those from the outside. For they were not allowed to be with those uninitiated and you were very much not an exception. In fact, you were a reason even.

“We can’t be together,” you had stated, and Yuki had solemnly nodded, understanding the why but not willing to accept it just like that. However, as a fellow Sohma what was he to suggest else? The outsiders wouldn’t understand and as much as Kakeru was someone of great understanding and acceptance he was just another outsider. After all, it wasn’t unheard of from their own mothers to abandon their children once they found the curse, what obligation had he not to do the same?

“Ahaha, please don’t be like that,” Kakeru had responded, first thinking that you were jesting. Your humour had always been rather outlandish, it was why the two of you got along so well. Just last week you had been the one confessing to him, albeit covertly, but now it was him who returned the words to you, openly. Surely feelings couldn’t have changed that quickly?

“Oooh, is it because you’re actually the heir of a throne in a foreign country? It is fine, I will be your Prince Charming!” the male had exclaimed, thinking that you truly were playing a game with him, but at your stern expression Kakeru’s bright shimmering light dimmed a little as he eyed you and then Yuki and then you again.

“Is it because of my family?” he questions, a pensive look on his face as he recalls the complications his own family came with. The difficulties Machi had to suffer from. The things he fought so hard to break away from. Was it all fruitless in the end?

You shook your head once more, a soft smile on your lips as you took a step away from the male, creating distance between the two of you. It was regrettable that Yuki was here, when it was supposed to be a private moment, but also fortunate, for you were sure that he was needed to pick up the pieces of his friend that you were to leave behind.

“It is mine,” you answered honestly, remembering the way Akito had reacted to Rin and Hatsuharu, recalling the story of why Hatori’s fiance had suddenly left him, the heartbreak, the pain, the inevitable tragedy that was to come, but above all the lack of what you wanted to give him the most; the curse holding you back. And that was all you had been willing to say as you turned away, leaving him with only your rejection.

But Kakeru was amongst the many traits of affableness and charm also determined, unwilling to let go once he had understood that this went against yourself as much as it went against him to let you go.

Kakeru knew himself not to be as kind and as empathetic as he would like to be, often needing others to explain to him what the perspective of the other was. But he understood family and especially complicated families as a member of one himself. Or so he had believed when he tried to dive into yours and tried to figure out what it was that had made you say what you had.

“Have you tried to embrace a Sohma? Have you ever pressed their body against yours and felt its true form?”

The mysterious head of the Sohma family had left Kakeru with even more questions as he wondered what it was that Akito had meant. Kakeru had, without a fear, approached the head to put the hierarchy of the Sohma into question. An inquiry that had earned him a cold and callous ire in which he was challenged to do the one thing you had always avoided. Was it in there that your secret laid?

He had considered it, Kakeru had, but the thought disturbed him as he realised the implications that Akito had so carefully suggested. Was he able to disturb your boundaries as such, to force out your secrets to him so casually all for the sake of starting a relationship?

“You will destroy it before you have it,” were Yuki’s words when he tried to seek counsel from his friend. Yuki’s grey eyes had been so sad, back to that gloomy cold prince he had been before they became friends. It was a loneliness that Kakeru had come to recognise in all members of the Sohma, which he sometimes saw in you as well.

“Whatever it is,” the male decided to tell you instead, “I hope one day you will come to see me as someone that you trust enough to share your secret with,” he had told you after relaying the story of his meeting with Akito. He regretted his own noisiness, lamented his curiosity, but had satisfied himself with patience. Patience that he was willing to use to wait for you to be ready, or for his feelings to die out, though Kakeru had a feeling that was going to be another long while. He was after all, quite stubborn.

#fruits basket #fruits basket x reader #fruits basket Kakeru #Kakeru Manabe #It is the cow's year!#goodbye rat

98 notes · View notes

unpeumacabre · 3 years ago

Text

soaring dragon dancing phoenix - 龙飞凤舞: prologue

Yunmeng is no longer home for Wei Wuxian, for he is no longer welcome. And so when he visits he can always count on Jiang Cheng descending upon his head with the full strength of heaven's fury, to chase him out. But one day when he sneaks into Yunmeng again, days go by without Jiang Cheng making an appearance. Something has happened to Wei Wuxian's prickly shi-di, something that - once they reunite - they will find is far greater than they could ever have anticipated. Accompanied also by Wei Wuxian's dear friend (?) Lan Zhan and a Lan Xichen who has only just reluctantly left isolation, the four of them set out on a journey that will bring them across the greater part of China to the mystical Kunlun mountains of mythology - and more importantly, may bring them love, healing, and reconciliation.

If only Wei Wuxian could take his head out of his oblivious arse and start putting himself in other people's shoes for once...

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Wangxian, Xicheng, Wei Wuxian & Jiang Cheng

Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting + more extensive author’s notes on the story)

Count: 1.5k

next ->

One year after the events of the Guanyin Temple, and the death of former Chief Cultivator Lianfang-zun.

Lan Zhan!

I agree with what you said about Sect Leader Yao, that old fart. He wouldn’t know a good idea if it bit him on the arse. If I were you I’d have snuck into his room at night and shaved off his eyebrows – but then again, you’re Chief Cultivator, and you have to follow boring things like rules and protocol. Don’t worry, the next time I’m in Pingyang I’ll … It’s a secret! Look forward to the next time you have a discussion conference with that pig-headed old fool.

I’ve finally reached Yunmeng. Little Apple took such a long time to get started from the inn in Jiangling. I think he had a crush on one of the serving girls, to be honest. Even apples didn’t work to drag him away from her. I had to conjure a mirage of her all the way from Jiangling to Yunmeng to get him going – can you imagine that? One of these days I’ll have to find a nice little female ass to keep his little Little Apple happy … Hahaha! I can practically see you rolling your eyes at me now, Lan Zhan. You still can’t take a dirty joke after all.

Anyway, I digress. It’s nice to be back in Yunmeng and be able to pick all the lotus pods I want and to flirt with all the pretty Yunmeng girls, although none of them are as pretty as you are, of course. You’d make a big stir if you came to Yunmeng – you should visit with me one of these days when you’re free! Although I know of course you have responsibilities as Chief Cultivator etc etc but I promise you it’ll be fun! One of these days I’ll come kidnap you. Then Lan Qiren, that old man, would really have an aneurysm, ha! I’d kidnap you just to see his reaction.

Don’t worry about me, I’m talking nonsense as usual. I wouldn’t really kidnap you, unless I was really bored. And Jiang Cheng would probably beat my ass for trying. Honestly, it surprises me that I haven’t had the honour of Jiang Cheng’s company yet. Somehow, he always knows the moment I step into Yunmeng – it’s like he has a spell set up to go off whenever I’m in the vicinity??? And he never fails to turns up for an hour or two just to shout at me, thrash Zidian around a bit and tell me to go back to Gusu. Then he storms off somewhere to drink tea or something. I swear he’s going to die of high blood pressure one of these days.

Well, I expect I’ll see him around. He’s bound to turn up sometime or other. Looking forward to your reply, and counting every one of your twenty words,

Wei Wuxian

***

Lan Zhan!

Thank you for expressing your concern for Little Apple’s wellbeing. He’s eating well (as usual) and living happily in the city stables where I left him. He has a new crush on the stable boy though, but I’m not worried about that – it seems like his affections are as transient as floating smoke and passing clouds. He seems to be like his former master in the sense of being indiscriminate with regards to his choice of partner, which makes me wonder why he’s taken such an intense aversion to me. I guess it’s just the same old story with me and animals all over again.

It’s my third day in Yunmeng, and still no sign of Jiang Cheng anywhere. Perhaps he’s simply busy with some night hunt or other and can’t be bothered to whip my ass into shape. I’ve been visiting his favourite haunts the past few days but no luck – it seems like he’s really busy this time. I’m starting to worry, and although I never thought I’d ever say this, I miss his grumpy ass. It’s been the longest I’ve gone without hearing him call me a fucking idiot, haha!

Anyway I have a funny story to tell! Yesterday I went to investigate rumours of walking corpses at the base of Yunmeng Mountain. Apparently some farmers came across them and ran away but one of them was caught and eaten.

But guess what, Lan Zhan? Actually, it was nothing more than a group of hermits who’d come down from Yunmeng Mountain five days ago after meditating in seclusion for three years, and they were doing their Bagua ritual circle walk around one of the dove trees at the base of the mountain. They hadn’t bathed once in those three years, and so when the farmers came upon them and saw them chanting and moaning and pacing around the tree they were mistaken for walking corpses! Hahahaha how ridiculous is that??? Anyway I cleared up the misunderstanding. The farmer who was apparently eaten fell down a cliff when he was trying to escape from the “corpses” and broke his leg, so the hermits rescued him and patched him up. He was perfectly fine. I talked to them and they seemed like a pretty normal bunch to me – they were quite a big group when they came down the mountain at first apparently but then most of them decided to go down south and back home instead of lingering in Yunmeng. That’s about all the excitement I’ve had so far, I think.

Well, anyway, thank you for the twenty-one words you used in your reply. You have gotten quite adept at teasing me, haven’t you? Looking forward to how else you may surprise me next,

Wei Wuxian

***

Lan Zhan,

No, I don’t think Jiang Cheng fell off a cliff too. As much as you might wish for it to happen, he’s still my brother an important sect leader, you know! Anyway I already checked all the cliffs around the mountain before I received your letter so it couldn’t possibly be so.

Besides, I went to Lotus Pier earlier today – just to check on how things are going, you know, in case they need my help or something, nothing to do with Jiang Cheng. I just stayed outside the gates because I thought Jiang Cheng would probably descend from the heavens on a cloud and break my legs the moment I stepped foot into Lotus Pier, but some of the disciples spotted me and asked me what I was doing there. They said there have been people disappearing just outside Yunmeng, to the southwest and twenty li outside the main city, and when some of the Yunmeng Jiang cultivators went to investigate a few days ago some of them disappeared. So Jiang Cheng decided to take a few more of the Yunmeng Jiang disciples and investigate himself.

Since I have some free time, I’ve decided to help them out. They’ve been gone for four days already – the beast must truly be a handful indeed. It might be fun to go and help, although I think Jiang Cheng might spontaneously explode when he sees my face. Well, maybe the explosion will end up killing the monster, who knows.

It’s quite odd, though; some of the disciples who escaped even said they saw the spectre of Jin Guangyao, that wily old fox, hanging around the cave where they were attacked. Although of course that is impossible, for he is probably still trapped in Nie Mingjue’s coffin, fighting a battle till the end of time. Well, I guess I’ll see for myself if what they saw was true or not.

I had not known that you were capable of silk embroidery. Your skill is indeed fine – as expected of the esteemed Second Master Lan! I shall treasure your gift until the end of time. The cherry blossoms flowered today, and they made me think of you. I wonder if you still remember visiting Tanzhou with me when we were looking for the remaining pieces of the Yin metal? Was it your first time attending such a festival? You looked so surprised by the petals raining down on you then! I miss those times.

I will write to you again tomorrow when I have rescued Jiang Cheng from the human-eating monster. I will make sure to give you a good account of his face when he sees me there to interfere with his night hunt, ha!

***

Dear Lan Wangji Hanguang-jun Mr Chief Cultivator Sir,

I am writing this letter to you because I know you to be a good friend of Wei Wuxian. Just today, I visited Lotus Pier and found that my uncle has been missing for a week, and Wei Wuxian with him for two of those days. They have apparently gone in pursuit of a human-eating monster twenty li southwest of the main city limits of Yunmeng. It must have been a fierce creature indeed to have ensnared both my uncle and Wei Wuxian

Unfortunately, as I am currently extremely and regrettably tied up in Lanling Jin sect matters, this humble person would like to humbly request for your help in locating and possibly rescuing them. Thank you.

Best regards, yours sincerely and most humbly,

Sect Leader Jin Ling, Lanling Jin sect

#wangxian #xicheng #upm works #upm #cql #wwx #lwj #jiang cheng #lxc #jc #mdzs #mdzs fanfiction #cql fanfiction #wei wuxian x lan wangji #jiang cheng x lan xichen #wei wuxian #the untamed #lan wangji #lan xichen

16 notes · View notes

godslush · 3 years ago

Note

I know its diff timeline and all (sadly) but have you thought about how the stardroids would react to MMV’s conclusion of Megaman’s and Sunstar’s battle, Sunstar coming to believe in Mega’s hope for peace and sacrificing himself to protect that wish?

I'm running multiple timelines in my head on the subject and a lot of them play off the big mystery of where the Stardroids come from and what happened to them before they were discovered; MMV, Mega/Gigamix, and, well, a "hybrid" setting for integrating OCs that I won't really talk about here because it is a Can Of Worms.

Also, before anyone asks, no, I didn't read Archie, so I don't work with it. Nothing against it, I just only have time for So Much.

MMV itself is a very interesting case because the Stardroids were reprogrammed to follow Wily's will, but we are never told what they would have done if Wily hadn't mettled meddled (M&B Data gives us an idea of how they might have acted). MMV-wise, I'm in the camp that Sunstar was their leader (despite various sources insisting he was not one of them), and I love to imagine they could have all been a very close in their own way before crashing on earth and going dormant (in fact, much of my writing for Antares outside of the 'hybrid' HC - that involves a text mockup for a game about it where Sunstar and Terra are the playable characters - touches on stuff like this, but it's completely separate to the comic).

I'd say that if the other Stardroids weren't destroyed for the final battle, they would have followed Sun's will for peace (perhaps reluctantly at first), but more importantly would have been able to jump in to prevent his death by stabilizing his core - who's to say none of them would have the know-how, being advanced ancient robots? As far as I can tell, Sun didn't 'sacrifice' himself, but simply accepted his fate and the fact that he wouldn't have been able to make it somewhere to be repaired in time for his core to blow.

Regrettably, games being as the games are, Wily's more of a cut-and-dry villain who barely cares for robots as more than tools for his world domination efforts, and Rock doesn't leave robot survivors (at least until later games), so we may never know. I don't really touch the games' timelines directly because of things like that. The game world is a callous world, where it's okay to put dead robots who used to be living and thinking individuals on display in museums.

Mega/Gigamix - which my comic offshoots directly - is so much different and provided me with a character conundrum; Rock does not destroy other robots needlessly, Wily cares for his metal kids (at least Giga), and everyone gets to coexist. For me, it's kind of the perfect world...

...but it's a world where the Stardroids - some of my favorite characters to think about and write - got the short end of the stick in terms of characterization and ultimate destiny, and Sunstar got it worst of all, being reduced to a barely-sentient fountain of pure hate and destruction, and nothing more (context clues in the comic itself imply that it's not Sunstar talking to Rock during that final fight, but Duo/the White Giant). It's a stark contrast to him being the one who reconciles in the game, to him being described in M&B as "bright and cheerful" (though the games screw him out of this informed characterization, as well), and leaves me with a bit of a bitter taste.

As a creative with a Very Bad Habit of pulling at loose ends I shouldn't be touching and trying to weave my own stories out of them (and usually regretting it down the road), I wanted to give them all a chance to exist and grow within my favorite iteration of that world - to show off some of the informed personalities we were given in M&B Data but never got realized beyond text anywhere canon - even if it's just in my head. But Sunstar is a tough one to redeem within the context of the setting I'd like to redeem him in, and involves writing a big backstory with alien worldbuilding and a bunch of 'nature of the soul' presumption and it's all a bit much.

That's not to say, however, that I don't have plans to do it.

In fact it's already fully outlined and ready to be set in motion.

I just... need the time and energy.

But his reconciliation is only two steps away.

#dai's mega man dump #long post #sorry for the textdump but i've been thinking about this a lot #they're two VERY big steps sadly lol

14 notes · View notes

fromthehellmouth · 4 years ago

Text

One for Sorrow, Two for Mirth

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Maledictus! Femme! Gryffindor! oc. Regrettably, there is so much angst... Part One!

Maledictus prompt requested by @hyacinthsandbooks I had so much fun creating this character, thanks for the prompt! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Drawing by me and inspired by scenes from the story. I hope you enjoy!

Overview:

Tom Riddle befriends an unlikely victim of a powerful blood curse

I had increasingly found myself in a perpetual state of insomnia and dread. There was almost nothing I could occupy my mind with that would take it from my lingering anxiety and melancholia surrounding my condition. My nights were long and restless, and I had to become endlessly creative in order to find ways that would keep me out of trouble as well as keeping me occupied during the long dark nights in the Gryffindor common room alone past curfew. Often, it would result in me exploring the castle grounds in my other form, or writing down my thoughts to pass the time. Perhaps it was the concept of literature that I would gravitate to because of its mysterious qualities of immortality. It was chilling but also somewhat comforting to know that my works would remain with me far after I had irreversibly changed. It was not something I liked to dwell on, but it was something that I knew I could not escape from--it was always there, nagging, prodding, looming over my decisions, my psyche--it was a horribly cruel curse.

Over a century ago my family had gotten involved with a group of vengeful wizards who were known for their adaptations of some of the darkest corners of the dark arts. They fled the country but the curse went with them. Once a curse of that strength had penetrated its way into your bloodline, it would permanently dwell there, feeding off you, like a tumor, like a degenerative disease, like a leech, essentially, it declared its power with its name; it was a blood curse. It was only a matter of years before there would be nothing more I could do, and I would have to accept my change and my fate with it. At least there was no need to study for N.E.W.Ts. My parents had begged me for years not to accept such a pessimistic attitude, to care about my studies, my dreams, and my aspirations. Over the past few months, through our owl correspondence, I felt they had lost the motivation to keep pestering me about a life that had been taken from me the moment my grandmother told me what I was: a maledictus.

Fortunately, at this point in my development, my transformations were still voluntary. When I was very young, I remember having frequent visits to the Ministry of Magic with my parents. They would have me seen by famous dark wizard catchers, legendary curse-breakers, healers, and talented seers. From the beginning we knew there was no known cure for this type of blood curse, but I think the little security the aurors offered was necessary for my parents to hold onto. They needed expert opinions, that unfortunately would continue to tell them there was nothing to be done. Of course, my childhood self had virtually no knowledge of the severity of my condition, and thought it was simply enchanting to see mommy and daddy’s workplace.

Since my first year at Hogwarts, I had told no one about my condition except headmaster Dippet, professor Stump—my head of house, and professor Merrythought who was an expert in the dark arts because after all, she was the DADA teacher. I liked professor Merrythought quite a bit. She was an older woman with grey-blonde hair pinned back in a loose braided bun which she always had hairs escaping from. She was one of the few people who did not immediately resort to pity and fear when I told her what my bloodline had been cursed with. She was calm and interested, she told me how special I was and got me involved into studying more about blood disorders involving dark magic. Unfortunately, there had been rumors of her leaving Hogwarts and retiring—yet another thing I would be attempting to repress. My mind had become an expert at most coping mechanisms, my methods of choice being denial, repression, and sublimation--primarily writing.

In a sense, knowing my future was carved into stone was somewhat freeing. It allowed me to live fully and completely in the moment, and not have to plan or study for my future. In another sense, the looming dread was very real, and seemed to be working its way into the grooves of my personality--settling in the fine lines of my psyche. My dull despair had become a part of me. I never doubted my purposelessness until I met Tom Riddle.

***

It was nearly 1:45am when I noticed his figure contrasted against the shamrock-green hills. In a defeated attempt to become more comfortable with my animal form, I had begun to fly over the castle grounds more recently during the night when I felt my insomnia had become too much for me to ignore by lounging in the Gryffindor common room long after the other students had taken leave. I was never in the mind of being rebellious or secretive, and I was almost positive that if I had told professor Merrythought, she would have kept the sensitivity of my travels safe. Spotting a dark-clothed figure, I circled closer, still keeping my distance. Edging in tiny fractions closer to the tops of the forbidden forest’s trees, I made my way closer to the figure. I was presently slightly concerned for encountering the kind of person who would be coming from the forbidden forest at nearly 2 o’clock in the morning, but my growing curiosity controlled me, and I eyed the figure from above, still slowly cruising lower and lower. When I had reached the grass, the figure had entered the covered corridor leading to the clock tower, and I decided to present myself to the figure who couldn’t have been more than 6 feet away from me. It was always fun to play out a little scare. I let out a shrill, stuttering call. The figure froze, spinning swiftly with a hand to his mouth. I could see his shoulders quivering as he stared at me.

“...it’s just a magpie, Tom...” he whispered to himself as if he needed convincing. As he turned to face me, I immediately recognized him as a popular Slytherin boy from... history of magic...? divination...?

“Unless...”

Defense against the dark arts. That was it.

“Are you... an animagus?”

I froze. How could he have known? There was no way he could have known... Silently and immediately I flew back outside the covered corridor back into the open air, and faster than I had ever flew before, I found my way back to the Gryffindor tower, perching on the windowsill I had left open, dropping inside, and in the darkness transforming back into a student and swiftly slipping under the thick covers, I fell asleep suprisingly effortlessly.

***

In the morning I awoke earlier than usual. It was as if my mind knew I had been gifted with a long sleep and didn’t want me to get comfortable. I had become accustomed to falling asleep late and waking up early—both situations leaving me awake while the rest of the castle lay unconscious. I put on my uniform and brushed out my hair. I found that the more I transformed, the silkier my hair had become, it was as if the strands were becoming more feather-like, and tended to reflect the light more. I had gotten nearly a dozen requests for the enchantment I had used, always leaving me with an awkward and less than satisfactory “it must just be oily.” I descended the stairs to the common room where I read the clock.

5:30.

Defeatedly, I gathered all my schoolbooks and began to review the material for my first class of the day. Herbology.

***

I decided to take a walk to the kitchens to pick up a cup of tea before breakfast, which begun at 9am each morning. I still had a few hours before breakfast, so after I made myself a cup I circled back to the clock tower courtyard near where I had departed from the boy I had followed last night. I sat on the ledge of the fountain and began to re-read the textbook required for this upcoming unit in herbology on uses and cautions of aquatic plants. We would be taking a guided field trip to the Black Lake for research, which I was quite excited for. While my eyes danced across the finely-scripted writing in the yellowing book, my mind wandered to last night. I found myself retracing my steps, and visualizing the boy’s face above me, shocked and intrigued. What did he know?

***

After herbology class, which had been held at the Black Lake, I followed the mass of students back to the main castle grounds. My days at school were mostly spent alone either studying or hopelessly wandering in my mind to places where I no longer had to abandon my future. I recognized very few people as friends, and I stood out from my fun-loving, reckless, and colorful housemates. It was as if my natural personality I remembered glimpses of from childhood had been veiled with a layer of plaque, tarnished and dusty. I didn't mind the aloneness. I often felt most secure when I didn’t need to reveal my secret to anyone, and was able to choose my schedule the way I saw fit. Back in the castle, I followed my normal crowd of Gryffindors who I shared my first two classes with. These were the students who I sat with at meals, went to study parties with, sat in the common room after hours with, but never ended up knowing very well. It was a polite relationship. They asked me what I thought about our next class’ lesson.

“Can’t say I’m excited.” I rolled my eyes, my hands rested deep in the pockets of my skirt.

“Don’t want people to know what you’re scared of?”

“Must be it.”

Defense against the dark arts with professor Merrythought was next, and the notorious lesson on boggarts had been expected by most students for months. Undoubtedly there was excitement for exposure to mysterious and dark creatures as well as teasing material for students with childish fears. I couldn’t help think of the boy I had encountered by the clock tower who I would inevitably see again this upcoming class. I hoped my nervous habits would not give me away as suspicious. For some reason, I felt the need to be wary of him.

***

The classroom had been completely rearranged for the upcoming lesson, with the chairs and desks pushed to either side of the long room, and professor Merrythought’s figure standing in the back near a large ornate chest. As the students trickled in, the rumblings of the crowd grew louder as giggles and anticipation filled the cold air. My hands wrapped around my arms as I attempted to retain my warmth.

Am I the only one who notices that draft?

Merrythought calmed us down and begun her lecture on the history of the discovery and initial magical responses to the boggart. It takes the image of what you most fear... Its true form has never been seen... It withers at the sound of laughter... The students got called up one at a time as she showed us the counter-curse Riddikulus! which would obstruct the boggart’s form and intercept its visual manipulation. Riddikulus! the steep chasm of a split cliff lets out a nasty fart and the room explodes in laughter. Riddikulus! a swarm of wasps turn into winged lemons and drop to the floor, rolling around and colliding with each other, and the class cackles.

Godric, would she just close that bloody window?!

“Lucia!” the room’s roaring died down and I felt my face turn red hot. My stomach twisted and contorted within me and my walk was feeble as I approached the large chest.

“And when the boggart is released, remember the incantation!” I swallowed hard and in a second, the lid of the chest flew open and a swirling silvery mass flew toward me and shifted into a bird, its head, beak, and breast were black mimicking a raven, but its belly was white and the under-feathers of the wings and long elegant tail that caught the light shimmered hints of deep phthalo green and royal Prussian blue. The bird began to lunge toward me and in a panic I shouted the incantation much louder than I expected.

“Riddikulus!!” The bird’s feathers erupt in every direction, leaving the creature completely bald and resembling an uncooked chicken, struggling to stay suspended in the air. The class giggled and Merrythought propelled the creature back into the chest and called forward the next student as I slipped back into the crowd.

“Tom!” The boy approached the chest in a single fluid moment. He wore his school robes to every class unlike the majority of students who only wore the required minimum of a blouse, sweater and trousers or skirt. He stood out not only because of his height but because his ebony-black hair glistened under the lantern-lit room. His robes seemed to be an extension of his broad square shoulders, and as he readied his wand I felt the room muffle in an unnatural stillness. The boggart shifted into the body of a young boy, with the same black hair as Tom, the same pale skin and full, pink lips, but the boy’s eyes were closed, his face was hollowed and gaunt, and he was lying on the floor, seemingly lifeless. The class seemed to collectively hold its breath as the dead body of a young boy nearly identical to the older Tom lay before us. Tom lifted his wand and smoothly uttered,

“Riddikulus.” The black robes along with the body of the boy melted into a thick black bubbling slime that seemed to shake and bounce slightly. This time there was no laughter. There was no reaction. Professor Merrythought quickly swooped up the transformed boggart with her wand and tossed it with a graceful flick back into the large chest.

“Well done class! Quite the show. That’s the end of the lesson for today, we’ll continue where we left off tomorrow!” The students murmured with the abrupt dismissal and I couldn’t help myself from straying my gaze to look at Tom. To my instant shock his piercing aquamarine eyes shot right back at me and I almost let out an audible gasp at the sudden intensity of his stare. I felt my heart-rate race and I nearly ran from the classroom.

***

Later that night my mind was racing, I had to know what he knew, why he had stared at me back in class, did he know I was the bird who had followed him last night? I sat by the crackling fireplace of the Gryffindor common room. The clock read “12:10,” and there was only one girl left in my company. She sat at the other corner of the room and I could hear the shuffling of books which meant I would soon be alone and she would be going to sleep. I caught myself staring into the flames, the fire dancing and glittering into smoke and stray glowing embers.

“Goodnight!” the girl called out as she ascended the stairs to the dorms.

“Goodnight.” I replied, my voice was tired but my mind was wide awake. My eyes lazily flew over the spread of books before me.

There was no way I would be able to study with Tom on my mind.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his bright eyes flashed in that cold room. It was as if the only thing my head could focus on were those piercing eyes and the image of that magpie lunging right toward me.

If you’d like to read Part Two, click here

Tags: @tmr-simp-pride

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fic #Harry Potter #Harry Potter fic #harry potter imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine

48 notes · View notes

queen-of-deans-booty · 4 years ago

Text

You’re Not Alone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader,

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mental illnesses, still depressed!reader but happier than before, fluff, baby-nipple action

Summary: Everything you thought you couldn’t have, you have now with the man of your dreams. All your life, you were told you weren’t good enough, but now that you know you are... you’re not alone anymore.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Author’s Note: This is the sixth part of six parts of the commission for @sea040561

All your worries as a pregnant woman all went away as soon as your baby boy was born. He’s only a few months old, but he is the light of your life. With having MDD and PDO, you thought you were going to be the world’s worst mom. All throughout your pregnancy, you were scared you weren't going to live up to what being a good mom is supposed to be like.

Regrettably, there were more than a few times where Dean had to force you to do something because your MDD and PDO wouldn’t let you do it. You two have a system going on that works, and now that your baby boy is here, you’re glad that you two went through what you did. You owe everything you have to Dean which is why you named him Bobby John Winchester. When he heard the name, he actually cried a little bit.

You hold Bobby John in your arms and he feeds from your breast. Everything bad you thought wasn’t going to happen, never did, so how can you really complain? Bobby John is literally a miracle, and you’re going to treat him with so much love and respect that he is overwhelmed by it. He seems happy right where he is, and that’s where you’re going to be. He’s everything you hoped to be and more, so you can’t ever imagine being apart from him.

He wasn’t sleeping at all, so you decided to sit in the rocking chair and feed him while Dean slept. There was no use in both of you getting up to deal with it knowing that you’re the only one who can calm him down and give him what he needs. He feeds silently, watching you with big green eyes. You fell in love with him the minute you heard him scream and cry, and now you vow to do everything in your power to protect him from everything bad in this world.

Even if that means it’s from you.

Yes, you still have it, and you’re not sure that it’s ever going to go away, but you’re going to work hard at keeping it at bay. You’ve been getting fewer and fewer episodes the longer you’re with Dean and your son, and that makes you really happy because of it. Dean is doing everything he can to take care of you in ways you never thought were possible, and you’re falling in love with him every single day. You’re learning to take better care of yourself, you go to therapy now to help with your episodes, and you’re doing it all for Bobby John. You have no clue where you’d be right now if you hadn’t met Dean Winchester.

It might be a higher power, but you’re thankful for it.

“Hey, you two doing okay?” Dean whispers when he enters the room.

It’s storming outside, and you’ve opted to keep the lights off so that Bobby John can feel more tired in the dark rather than in the light, but that doesn’t stop the lightning from filling the room with light every once in a while.

“What are you doing up? It’s my turn anyway,” you chuckle and turn your head to face him.

He walks around to face you so you don’t have to strain your neck. He looks at his son and smiles fondly, and he leans down and presses a kiss to his head. Bobby John’s eyes move from your face to Dean’s and then back to yours.

“I didn’t feel you in bed. I just wanted to check to see if everything was okay.”

“We’re doing fine. More than fine. He’s almost done anyway and then I’ll come to bed.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Marry me.”

“What?” you ask and snap your eyes up to his.

“I don’t know about you, but I love you so much it hurts. We have a son now, and all I want to do is spend the rest of my life being married to you… to take care of you and our son like you both deserve. I don’t know how much time I have left on this Earth, but I know I want to spend it with you. Please, marry me.”

“Yes,” you giggle-cry.

He leans down and kisses his son’s head once more before moving up to your waiting lips. The kiss lasts longer than it should have, but he’s the one who pulls away first.

“I’ll be waiting for you in our room,” he winks at you as he leaves the nursery, and you turn to your son who removes his mouth from your nipple.

“You know, your Daddy is the strongest man you’ll ever meet. He’s been so good to us in ways you don’t know, but he is going to be here for all of us for a long time. He and your Uncle Sammy. You have three uncles, you know that? Uncle Castiel and Uncle Jack too. Though, if Uncle Jack tells you to put something in your nose, just say no,” you whisper.

It’s like Bobby John can understand what you’re talking about because he smiles at the mention of Jack. You were never certain about a lot of things in life, and you’re still not certain, but you know there is one thing you are certain of: you’re not alone anymore, and you’re going to be just fine.

I knew they were going to be together from the minute they were born. Y/N and Dean’s souls became intertwined, stretching to fit the distance between them. I always knew Y/N would have difficulties in her life regarding herself, but I couldn't interfere. She had to seek out Dean so she can prove to herself that she can become better. It sucks that she had to wait this long to do it, but I’m glad that she did.

I guess she could have been born “normal”, to have a life that wasn’t so hard. I didn’t make her, but I always kept a close eye on her to make sure she didn’t throw away her life before it truly started. Everyone has their own time clock, and hers just started later than usual.

Dean could have met her at any point, really, but she needed to be ready to meet him. Before, she wouldn’t have been so open to the idea of moving in with him or even consider dating him. Before, she wouldn’t have been so open to the fact that she could be happy. She needed to grow as a person, to meet Jody, and to have her as a support system before anything could have happened.

They’re soulmates, so they would have found each other one way or another. Their souls are interwoven so that it doesn’t matter how much distance is put between them. I’m glad they got to live this ending because I am a sucker for a happy ending. There aren’t a lot of those in the world these days.

Before, I looked at Y/N’s life and I looked at Dean’s life, and all I saw was sadness and despair. Now, all I see is hope, and I realize that they’ll never be alone again. My work here is done.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why! Follow my library blog @queenofdeansbooty-writes where I reblog all my stories, so you can follow that if you can’t be tagged!

@flamencodiva @pisces-cutie @wingedcatninja @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @kiwihoee @thefaithfulwriter @babypink224221 @jennazeise @calaofnoldor @emoryhemsworth @miraclesoflove @xxboesefrauxx @kendall-michele @winchest3rbros @nahigm @sandlee44 @bluedazefangirl @a--1--1--3 @paintballkid711 @musiclovinchic93 @mrspeacem1nusone @essie1876 @thelazywitchphotographer @notyourtypicalrose @fuckwby @sing4mejensen @redsalv20 @superrandomnatural @scarletmeii @mizzezm @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo @akshi8278 @fandom-princess-forevermore @katherine097 @phantomalchemist @posiemax @tricksterdean @fallingintovoids @countrygal17a @whit85-blog @sammypotato67 @knowledgefulbutterfly @justalonely-nerd @sharp-cheekbones-locked @deanloveboi @dream-believe-and-love @casseythebee @redperson58 @liberty0123 @donnaintx @deans-baby-momma @perpetualabsurdity @foxyjwls007 @bluedazefangirl @thatmotleygirl @dumb-dork @havesaltwilltravel

#supernatural commission #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fluff

100 notes · View notes