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hannie-dul-set · 3 years

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PAIRING. huang renjun x fem! reader. GENRE. high school! au, suggestive. WARNINGS. attempted murder, mentions of blood and self injury, veryy descriptive kissing, mc has a few screws lost, swearing, depictions of unstable behavior. WORD COUNT. 1.8k GENRAL TAGLIST. @danishmiilk @wownajaemin @leejunini @astroboy-lele @unknown5tar @yunoyeol @w0nni3wrld @charm-art @bat-shark-repellant @keemburley @deliciouslyyellow (pls dm me to be added/removed!)

NOTE. ah yes, the only two genres: murder and making out. inspired by the dream i mentioned earlier. different events, but same vibe HAHA. disclaimer that no matter how much you hate your academic rival, never ever turn to attempted murder! thank you and enjoy

huang renjun— with all his picture perfect smiles, prim and proper tucked in shirts, a pretty face enough to have you on your knees, and with a perfect gpa to top it all off— was someone you wanted.

wanted six feet under the ground.

“hey, congrats!”

speak of the fucking devil.

“you always do really well,” huang renjun towers over you in front of your desk as you sit down. you look up from the wrinkled certificate that have the abhorrent words second honorable mention printed on it's scented surface, only to face his fucking face instead. he beams at you with a smile. you feel convulsions wringing inside your throat. “congratulations again.”

you don't miss the first honor certificate tucked between his books in a measly attempt of concealment. it takes everything in your power to force out something of a smile.

“thanks. you too.”

with that, he quickly scurries away into his seat next to yours with red ears.

your first period teacher enters, beginning class with a greeting, but your mind is elsewhere.

it’s only midterms, you breathe out through your nose, hugging your arms above your desk while sketching out a study plan for the rest of the semester in your head. there’s enough time before graduation. the hold you had on yourself gradually becomes tighter.

still, you know that even if you worked yourself day and night until you bled cold and crimson, huang renjun would still be one step ahead. you bite down your lip, peeling off the dry skin with a sourness writhing in your gut, digging your fingers deeper into your arms. if only he were gone. you leer at the boy diligently taking his notes beside you. if only he were gone gone gone gone—

your eyes widen, ignoring the blood staining your nails.

if only he were gone.

after class, you walk up to his desk and asked if he wanted to work on the physics homework at his place tomorrow. he says yes with starry eyes in a heartbeat.

the next day, renjun couldn’t wait for the final bell to ring. you, too, couldn’t remain in your seat— albeit for a different reason. so when the ringing occurs, the both of you don’t waste a second in finally heading out of the campus.

it’s a silent walk to his place, a standard suburban neighborhood, the sky slowly turning orange in the background. every time you turn your head to look at him, he looks back with a small smile, and you can’t help your hands from twitching at your sides.

renjun unlocks the door and meekly welcomed you inside.

“you can leave your shoes here,” he says, digging his keys into the back pocket of his school slacks with dangling noises. you look at him, smiling, and with a soft hum you leave your school shoes next to his, trailing behind him into the living room.

looking around, you ask him. “are your parents home?” there was an opening that leads to the kitchen, glass doors showing the backyard. the stairs that lead to the second floor are made of sleek, dark oak. it’s a modern interior. they have a fireplace inside.

“no,” he breathes out, wetting his dry throat with a swallow before turning back to face you. “they’re out on business. i don’t think they’ll be home until the weekend.”

the both of you stop right in front of the staircase.

“i see.”

he quickly muffles a cough and leads you up to his room.

the inside of renjun’s room is neat— organized books on the shelf and sheets neatly pressed. There’s a set of candles beside his bed. you hold back a scoff. as expected from the top student.

your eyes flit over from the window above his bed to look at him, instead.

“you don’t have to be so nervous around me, you know,” you muse, dropping down your bag to join him on the floor. worksheets littered with numbers and constants, gravity and acceleration, all scatter on the floor. they blow with the wind knowing that they wouldn’t even be filled in, anyway.

“sorry,” renjun sputters out, loosening his striped necktie with two fingers. his vision is kept trained on the wall behind you. “i’m not— i’m not doing it on purpose.”

you adjust your legs on the floor, skirt riding. “is there a reason?”

“a reason?” he gulped.

“why you can’t look me in the eye.”

renjun thinks he sees the corners of your lips twitching upwards.

“i’ll— i’ll go open the window, it’s a little hot in here, isn’t it?” scrambling to his feet, his knees sink into the navy sheets of his bed, reaching for the window in a nervous flurry to let the air in. “the news said that the temperature’s slowly gonna start rising but i didn’t think it would be—”

he bumps into you when he turned back.

there’s a click from behind him.

the wind stopped coming in.

“it’s not really that hot.”

the way your breath fanned against his lips makes his head spin in circles.

you have an arm out against the glass, your sleeve’s fabric grazing his tempered cheek when you went to shut the window down. renjun feels a ghost in the air where there’s a space in between you. “i— i guess you’re right,” he says, clearing his throat. “i never expected that you’d ask to work together.”

there’s syrup at the end of your sentence. “you seemed pretty happy when i did, though.”

he isn’t sure if it’s just him or if you’re slowly getting closer. “well, that’s— that’s because i—”

“you don’t have to say it.”

your voice digs deep into his bones like chains of velvet. he can feel your chest pressing against him now, crushing the sense of rationality that he was bestowed with from birth and is replaced with a warm lush of rabid, violent waters gushing into bit of him stomach,

it comes off a whisper yet it sends him reeling.

“i know.”

renjun swallows. hard. but he’s afraid you’d hear the manifestations of a tempered restlessness that had managed to crawl its way up to the tips of his fingers— which found themselves resting onto the curve of your back. stray strands of his swair sweeps above his eyes, obscuring the closeness of your face, and he wants to ask how. how did you know that he likes you.

he never got to.

the question doesn’t even get to resurface after the first hit of your cherry flavored chapstick, his bottom lip caught in between yours, teeth grinding against the plush, pink skin. the second hit has his decorum slowly peeling away from his skin when his tongue traces over yours in a hot mess of delirium, when you settle between his legs, a coarse groan vibrating in his throat. the third has him forgetting his own name.

his eyes are hazy when you pull back with a rough smacking of the mouth. with a short-winded voice, you ask him.

“do you mind if i make a call?”

renjun looks at you in a fit of breathlessness.

an airy laugh leaves your lips that he can’t stop staring at. you press a kiss on his nose. “my parents need to know that i won’t be going home tonight.”

dazed, he answers. “y-yeah, sure.”

he blinks a few times before letting you go.

“take your time.”

you send him a smile before fishing your backpack from the floor and leaving the room.

just like that, a switch was flipped.

upon closing the door, you quickly twist the knob, locking it with the keys that you’d snatched from him earlier. it’s convenient that he has each one labelled— a belated thank you to your school’s ever organized golden boy who never fails to make you sick in the stomach.

at each wall you pass, you make sure to seal the windows shut and have all the doors closed. the contents of your bag make steady pangs against your back as you shuttled down the stairs. you lock the back door shut, close all the windows, turn on all the lights, and throw a match into their fireplace, waiting for the fire to come to full bloom. all that’s left is the kitchen.

there’s no time wasted in turning everything on— the microwave, oven, and the stove until you can't crank them any further. embers fly into the air. it’s getting hotter. you duck down to the compartment under the stove to reveal a white painted propane tank, taking out a cordless soldering iron to seal the safety relief valve close. you place a rag over the opening valve and twist it halfway through. a hissing sound whizzes through the air.

with that, you leave through the front door, locking it for good measure. his keys disappear into the bush nearest to their porch.

it’s only a matter of time until huang renjun ceases to be a pest anymore. if not for good, then at least lethally injured.

you head home to finish your physics worksheets that were due tomorrow.

for the first time in god knows how long, you wake up and head to school with a well rested air.

you take your things out of your backpack, humming a soft tune right before the bell rings for your first class. your other seatmate— donghyuck— notices your unusual cheery demeanor, and inquires about its oddities. you simply answer him with an allusion to finally being free. he laughs it off and turns his head to the chalkboard.

five minutes before eight. the doors creak open. you’re ready to stand and greet your teacher until you realize that it isn’t her.

it’s not.

something nauseating knocks into your lungs and stifles your throat, eyes wide and stinging. it squeezes your neck with poison prickling the surface.

huang renjun enters the classroom with his usual nods and smiles to everyone he passes.

“holy shit, dude. you look like hell.”

“i didn’t get any sleep last night,” he laughs, lightheartedly. “guess i’ll have to sleep through recess.”

your teeth grind against your lips, supple skin turning redder at each nip. your nails leave scratches on the desk as you rattle in your seat, thinking, thinking, panicking. each breath feels like choking on pulverized copper in sulfuric air. there’s a ringing in your ears and you hear nothing except your own voice screaming why is he here why is he here why is he here?

he doesn’t go to his desk. he’s standing right in front of you.

“you look well.”

it sears your fingerprints off your skin.

you don’t answer, don’t even look at him. he breaks into a small smile and leans forward, one hand pressed against your desk and the other reaching for a lock of your hair as he nears and nears and nears. “there’s something here,” he says.

there isn’t.

“you left my window unlocked, baby.”

his hot breath hits your cold cheek, tucking a strand behind with a smile. to everyone else, it would look sweet— heart fluttering. to you it was a death sentence. renjun breathes out a contained chuckle into your ear before letting his hand fall on your shoulder, a tight grip at the last second.

“better luck next time.”

#NCT-WRITERS #cznnet #neowritingsnet #kpopscape #huang renjun x reader #renjun x reader #huang renjun x you #renjun x you #nct x reader #nct x you #huang renjun scenarios #renjun scenarios #nct scenarios #huang renjun smut #nct smut

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troubatrain · 3 years

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runaway - n. patrick (part five)

a/n: helllllllo i still cannot believe you guys like this series as much as you do honestly it blows my mind considering this was just one smutty blurb that took a life of it’s own. it’s super cool - thank you so much for reading!! i should have the next part up soon because i’ve already started it so that’s exciting (and it will be a proper celebration of the nolan patrick revenge tour). as per usual we’ve got to thank @hookingminor because nothing gets done around here without her letting me dump ideas and stuff in her dms

Part Four - Part Six

also tagging (because they asked): @fratboytj

Nolan takes a deep breath while he stuffs his hands into his pockets, his long legs carrying him through the city and to a building he was becoming more familiar with everyday. Yours. Initially, Kevin had insisted you moved in with him, and Nolan swore he’d have to move out just to keep his hands to himself. You explained to your brother that you needed space, and the second you reminded him you’d meet every girl he brought home - he was helping you find an apartment instantly.

Nolan hadn’t been by, actively avoiding your parents who’d been helping you move in and trying to distance himself from you the best he could. Travis caught him red handed, his flush cheeks outing him to his teammate almost instantly, and Travis was beside himself.

Dude Kevin’s going to murder you.

One time he told me not to even breath in her direction.

You’ve lost your mind Nolan.

Maybe he was losing it, Nolan thought buzzing up to your building and hoping you’d let him. You were like a drug Nolan couldn’t stop doing. He thought about you constantly, a summer spent Instagram stalking you until he heard you were in Philly. Travis told him to cut you off, ghost you until he simply couldn’t avoid you and by then maybe he’d find the courage to tell you he couldn’t do this anymore. Nolan didn’t know what this even was, if it was a string of hook ups or if he had invested his heart into you. He finally got up to your floor, knocking twice on the door gently. You appear on the other side, wiping a tear that was spilling from your eye in a Red Sox hoodie you stole from one of your brothers, “Nol?”

Nolan could feel the pull in his chest, and he finally took the plunge. He stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. Your hands snuck under his hoodie, grabbing into Nolan’s skin while you sobbed into his chest, “What’s wrong Boston?”

“I miss home,” You cried, the fear you had about leaving your home was real, and it was starting to settle in. Your parents had left a few hours ago, leaving you in your place for the first time alone and it just hit you. You were hours away from home with no family in the city besides Kevin who barely kept himself alive. The anxiety started to settle in, and the tears were flowing before you could stop it. It was all too much, and you hated that you were letting Nolan see you like this, a damn disaster, but he was the most comforting presence you had right now.

“Y/N,” Nolan whispers, running his fingers through your hair. You couldn’t stop, your breathing had become erratic once Nolan pulled you into his arms, “Breathe, baby, you have to. C’mon-”

When you didn’t answer, Nolan stood quietly trying to figure out what to do. He could call Kevin, but then he’d have to explain what he was doing showing up to your place unannounced, and he didn’t even know why he came. He wanted to see you, that was the truth, but admitting that meant defeat. Nolan raked his brain, thinking about the way he felt the first time he’d been that far from home, “You have any weed?”

You smile, a few stray tears still falling while you pick your head up from Nolan’s chest, “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

“Yeah,” Nolan nods, his hands on your cheeks and a smirk on his face while he waits for your answer. You nod, pointing to your bedroom door, “I’m going somewhere with this, I promise.”

Nolan grabs your grinder, grabbing a paper and getting to work. You watch his fingers, long calloused fingers rolling up a joint. You sat next to him, crossing your legs while Nolan rolled on your end table you bullied Kevin into putting together just a few hours ago, “You said you had a point here Patty…”

“Well, Boston, when I used to get homesick this is what I’d do,” Nolan admits, his cheeks redder with his words. You furrow your eyebrows, this was the smallest piece of information you’d ever gotten out of Nolan. Nolan knew a lot about you, because Kevin never shut the fuck up, but you knew little to nothing about Nolan Patrick, “Open.”

Nolan’s dick twitched in his pants while you happily obliged to his order, part of hoping it was his dick he was telling you to open for and not the joint in his hand. He places it between your lips, lighting the end for you and letting the smoke fill the room, “Why’d you come here anyways?”

“Wanted to see you,” Nolan hums, watching the smoke slip your lips. Your eyes were puffy and red from a few hours of crying, a hole in the shoulder of the hoodie you were wearing and your hair was a disaster, but Nolan didn’t think you could look any better. You pass him the joint, straddling his lap so you could get as close to him as you could. It was so easy with Nolan, and when you were together it’s like everything seemed to click. You stayed silent for a bit, comfortably nestled in Nolan’s arms while you listened to his heartbeat.

“Heard you’re coming back,” You mutter, unsure of how to approach the conversation at hand. Your hand was toying with Nolan’s sweatshirt strings absentmindedly, and you heard his breath hitch at your question.

“I’m fucking terrified,” Nolan admits, tired of keeping up the tough guy act. You pick your head up, turning it to the side like you were taken back by his words. You thought Nolan was different, your suspicions confirmed by his confession. Kevin had probably been injured more times than you count, but he never once complained about it because that’s hockey. Nolan’s words meant more to you than he probably even knew.

“If you’re not ready you don’t have to go back,” You press a kiss to his jaw, and a small smile lands on Nolan’s face. You didn’t know what to tell him, besides a cheesy go get ‘em that he didn’t need to hear from you, “But I’ll be proud of you regardless.”

Nolan’s hands snuck under your hoodie, his hands a little cold and rougher than you remember from a summer’s worth of lifting, “You will?”

“Always,” You hum, sinking your teeth into Nolan’s neck and giggling when he let out a hiss at the contact.

“Are you seriously turned on right now?” Nolan chuckles, leaning his head while you continue to press kisses against his neck.

“Emotions are sexy Nolan, you should try having more,” You tease, grinding your hips down against his lap, Nolan’s grip tightened at your words.

“I’ll tell you what’s sexy and it isn’t how I’m feeling,” Nolan smirks, looking at you like you were the most obvious answer in the world. Nolan’s hands wandered down your legs, the shorts you were wearing left little to the imagination, and if you were sobbing when you opened the door Nolan would have made a point about it sooner, “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Stop that,” You tuck your head in Nolan’s neck, hiding your face from him. You could be given a million compliments but you didn’t want them if they were coming from Nolan, his voice sent shivers down your spine - and it was dangerous.

Nolan remained silent, pulling your head up and running his thumbs over your cheeks. His stare was intense, and it was all you needed to know what he was thinking - he wasn’t going to stop saying that to you. You press your lips to his, a groan falling from Nolan’s lips when you took his lip between your teeth, “I missed you…”

Nolan’s confession hung in the air, his lips pressed against your neck and words muttered into your neck. His hand slid under your shorts, sliding them down your bare legs and tossing them to the side. Nolan hooks his arms under your legs, pulling you up to his face and laying back down.

Gonna make you feel so good baby.

I want you to ride my face princess.

Be a good girl.

Nolan pressed a few open mouthed kisses to your thighs, your legs practically shaking with anticipation of what was to come. You look down at Nolan underneath you, his tongue flat against your pussy and you could have sworn this was heaven. You grind down your hips, Nolan nodding and guiding your body against his body, “Fuck Nolan.”

“Faster baby, c’mon,” Nolan eggs you on, and you move your hips quickly, pressure building up inside you. Nolan’s tongue swirled your clit, sending you over the edge, “Cum on my face princess.”

Nolan’s hands dug into your thighs, holding you over him without sparing you a second to catch your breath. He was addicted to you, and he wanted you to know just how much he-

Loves?

Likes?

Cares?

Nolan cared, he definitely cared about you more than you probably thought about him. Honestly, Nolan didn’t care if Kevin punched him square in the face as long as he could still see you afterwards. His tongue teased your entrance, a whine escaping your lips from the contact, “Nolan I’m, fuck-”

When your second orgasm washed over you, your legs shaking from pleasure while Nolan held you up above him. His mouth finally unlatched from your pussy, and you thought that was going to be it. Nolan, however, had other plans for you. You landed on your back, two fingers in your pussy while Nolan’s thumbs rubbed circles into your clit. Nolan pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes were looking into yours, “Want to see you cum this time pretty girl.”

You nod, your thighs closing while Nolan continues to pry them back open. Your eyes were fluttering shut, practically rolling to the back of your head when Nolan’s long fingers curled inside of you. His other hand grabs your chin, “Nolan I can’t-”

“Open your eyes for me baby,” Nolan coaxes you through your orgasm, one eye popping open to look at him while your hips lifted off the mattress. He finally pulls out his fingers, licking them clean. Nolan pushes a piece of your hair from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Feeling any better?”

“Definitely not doing worse,” You mumble, nuzzling your face against Nolan’s hand, wondering how someone could be like that in bed and so gentle when all was said and done, “Stay?”

Nolan didn’t sleep a bit that night, holding you while you snored softly on his chest and lying awake in your bed. He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do about this, but he knew one thing.

Things were never going back to normal.

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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bitch-im-your-biggest-nightmare · 4 years

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Parents fucking suck bro. [Corpse Husband & Reader]

Warnings: Arguments, bad parents, swearing, crying Summary: Y/N loves playing with Among Us with the others, even if she's the youngest among them. While shes playing with them, her parents walk in and are not happy with the fact she’s playing with them. There's a big argument and shit goes down but Corpse is there to comfort Y/N. Tag list: @save-the-sky @alilshit @whatifwedo @hughugh20 @fleurmoon @bi-andready-tocry @itsminniekat @yoongi-holland @loraleiix @hacker-ghost @fanworrior @marvelous-musicals @annshit @unknown-and-invisible @letsloveimagines @hairbrush-anon @babyhoneystvles

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“Hey guys” Y/N greeted happily as they entered the lobby in Among Us. They have been playing Among Us with Felix, Sean, Rae, Toast, Sykkuno, Charlie, and Corpse for a while now. Y/N was 18 and still living at home, making money off of YouTube. They’re parents were strict and wanted them to have a “real job” like being a doctor. Y/N knew their parents were toxic and would disapprove of their job choice, so they keep it a secret.

“hey Y/N”

“Hello”

“hii”

“Whats up Y/N”

Everyone began to greet them, which made them smile. Y/N was filming the gameplay of this for a new video on their channel. Everyone seemed to love when they played Among Us, so they always played it- doing commentary and music on the side. “How you guys doing on this..” they looked out the window of their darkened bedroom, seeing heavy rain pouring down from the dark clouds in the sky. “Pretty damn depressing day where i'm at, holy shit.”

There was a couple of laughs and chuckles, and everyone began to state what the weather was like where they were. There was a lot of “Its nice out where am”s. It rains a fuck ton where Y/N lives, especially during spring. But they loved it, rain was their favorite.

“Alrriiight is everyone here?” Toast asked.

“Nope, Corpse is joining.” Sean announced, which caused sounds of happiness. Corpse was everyone's favorite, it was that damn voice. Corpse was Y/Ns bestie, they always had each other backs. There was many people who shipped them, but they both only wanted to be friends.

A few seconds after Sean spoke, Corpse joined. “Hey guys.” Corpse said, he sounded tired. But that was common for him, he told you about his insomnia. He probably didn’t get any sleep last night.

“Alright lets start the game.” Sean said, clicking to begin the game. Y/N smiled at the big letters reading “IMPOSTER” at the top of their screen. They’re a really good imposter- as they were told. They first went to blend in with crewmates, going to walk around a bit. While roaming around, they went into electrical to fake a task. Y/N saw this as the perfect chance to get their first kill in. So, they snuck up and killed him, then they vented to escape.

After a minute, a dead body was reported and they were now at an emergency meeting.

“Where was the body?” Toast asked.

“I found the body iiin.. electrical.” Rae replied, “Who was in there last?”

“I did see Y/N walking towards electrical.” Felix said, “That is where the body was found.”

“Yeah, but did go into electrical?” Y/N said, “I was heading to reactor, I had a task there.”

“Not the best alibi.” Sean said, “But I’ll take it.”

“Could be Rea, but.. wait no.” Sykkuno said.

“How could it be me if I reported the body?” Rae chuckled.

“Yeah I know I just realized.” Sykkuno replied.

“So... skip vote?” Corpse said.

“I’m still sus on Y/N.” Felix said while voting for Y/N.

“Vote Aoc shes kinda sus.” Y/N said, voting for Rae.

“Wha- Y/N!” Rae said.

“Sus.” Y/N said plainly.

“Ok yeah i'm skipping this vote.” Toast said, skipping the vote.

Most people skipped the vote, so no one was out. Y/N continued to play the game how she would, until she killed someone and had to quickly vent because someone just walked by. That made them shriek, “oh sugar honey ICED tEA-” they laughed, “That was a close one, hah.” Well seemed they were being too loud because their mother walked in.

“Why are you being so loud?” She asked, just as an emergency meeting started.

“Oh shit- my moms here hold on.” Y/N said, going to mute but misclicking, so now they were all going to hear this. “I’m just playing Among Us.”

“Shouldn’t you be looking for a job instead of playing stupid video games?” Mom said, stepping into the room.

“Oh- uhm... I do YouTube as a job. I make money of it.” Y/N replied quietly, knowing what was to come next.

‘whAT?! YouTube is not a fucking job Y/N!! Me and your father told you many many times that we want you to be a doctor!” Mom yelled. Y/Ns sister got into a great college because of her smarts and intelligence, shes going to be a surgeon one day. But that just wasn’t Y/N, they wanted to make content for the people on the internet. And so far, it was working pretty damn well.

Y/N sighed, “Oh my god mom shut up! I hate all that doctor college bullshit. Im making enough money on here!”

“Are you delusional?! Why can’t you be more like your sister, shes so successful!” Mom yelled, she was in disbelief. She wanted to have the perfect children, but she only got one.

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS COMPARE ME TO HER?!?” Y/N screamed, beginning to cry. “What does it fucking matter?!”

“You are such a fucking disappointment. Get off that damn game!” Mom said, running over to pull Y/N away. But Y/N pushed her back.

“Bro FUCK off! its my goddamn business, Im a fucking adult now, leave my shit alone!” Y/N screamed through the tears.

“I am your mother! I know best! Now get off that fuckin- OW!” Y/N slapped their mother straight across the face, pushing her out of their room and closing the door, locking it. They sat back down and looked at her screen.

“Oh fuck. You heard all of that.” Y/n choked a little, “Shit.”

This is where Corpse came in, breaking the silence and shock between everyone. They listened to the whole thing, messaging each other in the chat what to do. “Hey, your moms an asshat.”

Y/N flinched, hearing banging on her door and screaming. “And a fucking psychopath!” they sunk down a bit, putting their hands on their forehead and breathing heavily. “Shes gonna kill me!”

“Hey hey hey, its alright Y/N. Don’t let her get to you, she doesn’t know what shes saying.” Rae said.

“I personally think you have great content.” Toast said, “I don’t think i would trust you as a doctor.”

“hey don’t listen to her Y/N, we’re always here for you.” Corpse said, “DM me and we can talk about it more, ok?”

Y/N sniffled, “Ok.” Then they muted, taking their phone out to DM Corpse.

T/N: Hey

Corpse_Husband: Hey are you doing alright?

T/N: No

T/N: Do you think im a disappointment? Is YouTube really worth it?

Corpse_Husband: Disappointment? no. The only disappointment is that sad excuse of a mother you have. And YouTube? hell yeah its worth it. I started youtube off when I was younger and had a blast. If you’re having fun and making bank keep doing it! You’re 18, your mother doesn’t control you anymore.

Corpse_Husband: Pewdiepie is a subscriber to your channel

Corpse_Husband: That should be enough motivation

T/N: you have weird ways of making me happy :’)

Corpse_Husband: I do have facts.

Corpse_Husband: But seriously, please dont have a panic attack, those suck. But do you wanna play more Among Us? It might cheer you up :D

T/N: Yeah yeah yeah thanks. And sure, I’ll play more among us. Thanks Corpse, your the best best friend 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🌹🌹🥀

Corpse_Husband: 🥺

~The End~

Oh my god this ones terrible. I might rewrite it in the future.

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #fanfiction #requests #oneshots #bad parenting

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steve0discusses · 3 years

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Yugioh S5 Ep 19: Yugi and the Only Neck Accessory He Didn’t Really Want to Wear

Been busy! Hopefully stuff will open up soon as I’m taking a hiatus on a different quarantine project and will be finishing painting the entire roof of my car this week? One can hope. Sanding the rust off the whole top of a car takes a long time it turns out?

Also, fun Yugioh fact, I recently painted a book cover for an author who is older so she’s never seen the show, and she looked at my tumblr, saw my Duke Devlin fanart and was like “That’s him. That’s my main character. OMG. You captured him perfectly!” and I was like “Ma’am that is Duke Devlin, hence the single dice earring on his lobes there, but we can work with this.” and now a spiritual Duke Devlin is on the cover of a Wuxia-style fantasy trilogy on the Vella. Had to give him a top knot and delete the eyeliner for Wuxia reasons but uh, that’s just Duke.

So long story short, fanart can get you work, don’t even worry about posting that stuff online because most people don’t even know it’s fanart anyway and older ladies freakin love it.

Back in Yugioh, the team was doing their best to navigate a map through the woods and they do about as well as they normally do.

And inside Tristan lifted up the floorboards and was like “I found the only way out, this is it, this is the only way.”

And they ended up in something that has a color scheme I would actually associate with a jungle. Finally. We have finally left California (in order to go to another Hell.)

Youknow, when we went to California, we visited Hell, and when we went to India, we also took a stop at the nearest death destination. There’s just so much death on this show and sometimes I forget because there’s been a ghost in our party for so freakin long it’s been normalized.

(read more death imagery under the cut)

Joey freaks out at a flock of crows and reveals in this episode something I never realized about him before.

Like I’m not always the perfect observer as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I love that this is canon for probably only this episode, but I will never forget it for the entirety of this series.

You go on hating birds, Joey.

Bro was like “Maybe it’s a deep cut about Mai Valentine because she’s a harpy lady” but eh...pretty sure we spent like an entire season of Joey telling us that Mai was a good experience? Would be incredibly funny if immediately after all of S4, Joey was like “You know what? Screw Mai, guys.”

So my thoughts...it’s probably just a literal bird experience. Like I had a friend who hated deer because once she went to a petting zoo, got some pellets to feed the deer, but her finger was sticking up, so when the deer came over to nibble on some pellets her finger went up it’s nose by accident. She was so disgusted by this event that was entirely her fault, that she brought up how much she hated deer basically whenever we saw one.

So like...maybe Joey fed a bird wrong at a petting zoo. I can see him getting bit by a parrot because he was too Joey Wheeler.

But now that we’re in a graveyard neighborhood, Pharaoh decides to hop out because there’s a lot of ghosts here and he needs to practice socializing with his peers.

So that’s just a Yugioh monster doing the ostrich dance, right? Like this is a meme from like 2010 but on Yugioh in 2003(4?)

Good to see the Ostrich dance here in the land before Vine.

So they pull out their Pokemon to do some antics, Tea looked like she was about to do something useful, and Yami does a yump across time and space to get her as far away from playing (not)cards as quickly as possible and y’all...sure was a position these animators animated.

Holy crap.

And I was going off about that scene last season where they woke up in the same bed like...

...have these two been together this entire time? Like together together?

They’re like...way more comfortable than you’d figure they’d be considering Yugi nearly passes out every time he gets a hug. But Yami just like....How long has this been going on? As long as Joey’s fear of birds?

Like obviously this show would never cover what the hell Yugi may be thinking about this overreaching move here, because we’re gonna gloss right over that, and just run away up a flight of stairs. No one mentions this ever again. Which is mind blowing for an anime to do. I think in most anime I watch, the kids would be like “ahh ahhhh I bumped into a booooob!” like it does for I want to say every other episode of My Hero Academia. But in Yugioh, they saw that low hanging fruit and they were like “we expect a higher level of maturity out of our audience. Now here’s a fleet of ostrich dancing tree monsters with faces for crotches.”

They decided to sprint up this flight of stairs, and it enough of a slope to deter the monsters who are only unbalanced weird legs.

I want us to take a moment and admire this background painting. I can’t unsee the rocks that are all the same size, just piled on top of eachother. Did Alexander the Great just plop rocks here--or was the mountain made up of tons of similarly shaped boulders?

Like there’s a lot of nice bg’s in this arc, don’t get me wrong, but this one...I’m just trying to wrap my head around the logic of it.

At the top, they meet a pantheon, that is immediately blocked by this wall, because if this arc had a tagline, it’s “Yugi gets inconvenienced every 4 seconds.”

Bro was like “Clearly they would have pushed it over if Tea wasn’t slacking off” and like...she is actually. Look at her. Only used one hand? Slacker.

Joey was disappointed he couldn’t push over a massive wall, and the team decided not to analyze how much Joey Wheeler thinks of his own strength and instead fixate on these statues.

Usually in anthro characters they kinda look birdlike but act human. But what about an anthro that’s just a bird? Like human torso, but can turn his head 180 degrees? Yugioh made me ask this question.

And then Joey was like “wait, there may be a solution that isn’t just to use brute strength!”

Youknow it is a bummer that Kaiba couldn’t witness Joey own a dragon while he himself only has a robot jet dragon. Although, the jet is probably faster, stronger and overall...better than this baby dragon. It would have been great for Kaiba to witness Joey under-utilize this dragon and forget he has it for like huge swatches of the episode.

And then Grandpa pulled some body horror out of nowhere.

Wow.

I mean that is really gross.

I guess Grandpa can’t use Blue eyes, because Kaiba ripped it up, Grandpa can’t use Exodia because Weevil tossed it off a boat, and grandpa can’t use the card that’s just a building because...it’s a building.

So instead Grandpa has a bunch of meat and bones that look like something out of Doom. It’s probably from a more obscure Konami property, but I forget which.

I’ve seen Tristan hold back Joey in this hold, first time it’s been Tea.

So much shipping in this episode, it’s wild.

It’s also wild how low my standards are for what could possibly be shipping when it comes to Yugioh because of how freakin tepid all of these characters are, which as I’ve brought up before, I really don’t mind.

So Yugi decides that because Grandpa was folding his arms like one monster and it made a gem light up or something, to just do the video game thing and use the giant ass statues as clues.

Why was this arc not a video game? Like parts of it really feel like it was meant to be.

So Yugi falls down a hole, where the walls cave in like it’s that dumpster in Star Wars but like...it barely phases him.

Also...Yugi might be able to see in the dark. It’s never been brought up but like...the more I think about it...has Yugi ever struggled to see without the lights on?

After Joey disappoints everyone, he confronts death.

And Pharaoh and Yugi decide to solve the puzzle of “how do I get out of this trap dungeon room” which, honestly, is probably what they’re doing every time they hang out in the brain pyramid.

So they summon their mascot monster, and surprisingly the show decided its ability to fly cannot help them out here.

Kuriboh manages to become enough of a doormat to push Yami up to the stone and they end up in a set of weird cuts that ended in this?

Like seriously it was like flashes of light and then they were just...up here like this.

Hey like...

Alexander the Great, my man...

Were you planning to put that stone in the middle of a exhaust vent hoping someone would touch it? Because there’s no way anyone would rationally have done that. You would need to fly to do it. This is the world’s worst DM.

Like Yugioh pulls a lot of fantasy nonsense but this arc is a lot more like a “it’s a kid’s show, just go with it.” arc than most of them. It’s not a bad vibe, necessarily, it’s just not the vibe I’m used to.

So once I witnessed maybe the most boring conversation I’ve ever witnessed about corn (this was on a twitch stream, by the way, a guy was playing an interesting game, and then a guest came on and started talking about corn and plants for 2 hours) and they would not shut up about how all taxonomy is wrong because there are no such thing as trees and how all animals are labelled incorrectly, and then they started comparing it to like all sorts of mushrooms and phytoplankton as you would if you clearly got a little bit high before dumping your corn knowledge on a twitch stream.

Anyway, after that bizarre experience I suffered so I could learn how to play an obscure video game, I think I can safely say, that while I know everyone here thinks a bird can’t be a dog. If you’re a high biologist: a bird is absolutely a dog. Apparently you can just do that if you’re the most boring biologist alive and no one will argue with you because to do that would involve talking to you. We’ll just say a bird is a dog and no one can fight me or I will talk about the corn book that this guest on this twitch chat was thinking about renting from the library about the different types of corn mutations inherent in freakin Indiana. Therefore, Joey’s fear of birds and dogs is same.

So they use Dark Magician to save them from the statues, and Yugi busts into the pantheon again because they got to open this casket before a time limit that I kind of forgot about, tbh.

And inside the casket, is...this thing!

(enjoy this line on the bottom of the image I don’t feel like fixing it)

And you may say to yourself...it looks like it’s just floating in mid-air, that’s silly, and so I want to introduce you to the next panel where you can see that it is...quite literally...just floating in the air like a video game.

and it just slurps itself onto Yugi before he can be like “nonono.”

Wasn’t there some horror movie where you were stuck in some sort of body brace that slowly tortures you (was that Saw?) This has that vibes. Like man that looks uncomfortable to wear over a jacket and two belts and a collar that is another belt.

That and I...I gotta appreciate that Yugi popped his collar while wearing body armor and chunky necklace. What 00′s fashion appreciation right there.

Bit like...this isn’t breathable, right? Like Yugi’s gonna finally take this thing off and his jacket will just be completely soaked in sweat?

Anyway, that’s it for this post, next week we’ll see if Yugi can walk through a doorway in that thing.

Also, I can’t bring up the ostrich dance without sharing the vines of my generation

youtube

#Yugioh #YGO #yu gi oh #photo recap #episode recap #S5 #Ep19 #Yugi Muto #Joey Wheeler #Joey's fear of birds I've never heard about until this episode #Tea Gardner #Grandpa Muto #Tristan Taylor #Baby Dragon #This weird ass tranformer that Yugi is wearing.

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seokjinsdisciple · 3 years

Text

Riddikulus - fifteen

jungkook x reader, hogwarts!au, enemies to lovers!au

Warnings: language, memory loss, talks of break ups, bullying lowkey, kinda fluffy at the end

Word Count: 1.7k

this update is trash and i hate it

THIS IS UNEDITED

series masterlist

taglist: @nellaphine @elixirguks @softfluffgirl @sensiblebutch, @deolly, @zeharilisharaban, @jungshookmeup, @elliegrace1999tvd, @mybiasforsure, @minsugapie, @betysotelo18, @purpleheartsfortae, @annoyingpessimist

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ON THE TAGLIST SEND ME A DM OR AN ASK

“So here’s the deal,” Tae started, sitting on the couch in the Room of Requirement, “As far as I can tell, we can’t undo the spell without seriously fucking up her brain.”

“Like how badly?” Namjoon groaned, burying his head in his hands.

“Like mush,” Tae said, shrugging as Hobi elbowed him.

“So we can’t do anything?” Yoongi said, letting his head hit the back of the couch.

“Not that I could find,” Tae said quietly, a sigh leaving his mouth as Jungkook walked in.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, walking over to a nearby arm chair, “When I told Madame Pomfrey what happened she made me talk to the headmaster.”

“And what’d he say?” Hobi perked up.

“Well good news is that Seonghwa is being expelled,” he started, watching as some of the tension in the room was lessened, “Jin lost Gryffindor 150 house points though!”

“Seriously Kook? That’s what you’re worried about?” Jimin asked.

“Sorry, it’s just,” He started, running a nervous hand through his hair, “Gryffindor hasn’t lost the house cup since I’ve been in school.”

“Can we focus please?” Namjoon asked, shooting an irritated glare to Jungkook., “What did he say about the memory charm?”

“He said if any one of us tries to remove it he’ll take our wands and make sure we never practice magic again,” Jungkook grimaced, “He said its impossible to undo, and if she really wanted that memory gone, it was none of our business.”

“So we just sit here and pretend everything’s fine?” Yoongi asked, an incredulous look on his face.

“At least he’s getting expelled,” Hobi said, leaning against Yoongi’s side.

“I think I’d kill him myself if he wasn’t,” Namjoon muttered, giving Tae an appreciative smile as he leaned over and started rubbing his shoulders.

“Jin’s a mess, Joon,” Hobi added, “You should really talk to him.”

“I just can’t right now,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, “I can’t believe he would do something like this without even telling me she was thinking about it. I just need some space from him for a while.”

“We can respect that,” Yoongi spoke up, “But don’t forget that you’re madly in love with each other and literally soulmates. One mistake doesn’t change that.”

The boys huddled around Namjoon as his shoulders shook, the feelings of the day finally catching up with him as he let his tears fall freely. The boys stayed like that for a while, comforting each other as worries and concerns kept coming up. When they finally called it a night, they all went their separate ways, no one noticing Jungkook heading in the direction of the hospital wing.

You woke up in time for your first class, thanks to Jungkook tossing one of your shirts at your head.

“Get up,” he said, running his hands through his extremely unkempt hair.

“Did you sleep here?” you asked with a yawn, stretching your arms before sliding out of the bed.

“Yeah, I didn’t want Seonghwa messing with you while you slept,” he said, throwing off his dirty shirt and pulling a clean one out of his bag. You couldn’t help but gulp as you set eyes on his abs, eyes roaming the expanse of his bare skin, “Stop staring at me and get dressed.”

You shot him a glare as you spun around, heat filling your body at his laugh. You threw your shirt off, your bare back on display as you shimmied your pants off. You smiled a little to yourself as his breath hitched from behind you, a strained cough leaving his lips as you pulled on your shirt. Two could play at that game.

You turned to face him, an innocent look replacing your smile, “Jungkookie can you hand me a skirt?”

“Um, I-, what?”

“Do you mind handing me my skirt?” you repeated, smiling widely now at his flushed face. His eyes looking at everything else in the room but you.

“I-uh yeah. I can definitely do that. Skirt,” he blushed harder, quickly reaching into the bag beside him and handing you the skirt that was in there, his head turned the other way.

“Thanks, Kook,” you laughed, pulling on your skirt. You slipped your shoes on, throwing your hair into a bun before turning back to where he stood.

“Ready?” he asked, hand scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you said, “Let’s do this.”

Jungkook escorted you to your classes, along with Jimin, for the rest of the day. Whispers following you wherever you went. You half expected your classmates to be understanding about this whole thing, but based on the whispers you had been hearing, it seemed like whatever happened was getting blamed on you. You shouldn’t have been that shocked.

“How did they even find out about this?” Jimin hissed, shooting a glare at a third year Gryffindor who had said some pretty shitty things.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook said, “No one else knew about this besides the 7 of us and Seonghwa. And since he got kicked out this morning I doubt he told anyone.”

The three of you kept walking towards the library, silently pondering how the hell the whole school found out about your erased memory.

“This is giving me a headache,” you groaned, pushing the doors open.

“Don’t hurt your brain, please,” Jungkook said, “I need it for when we study potions.”

“I’ll try to figure this all out while you guys study,” Jimin said, waving you two into the library and hurrying down the hallway.

“Well, there’s no point in wasting time then,” you said, “we’ve been slacking off, Kook.”

“I know,” he sighed, sitting down at your usual table, “and exams are only two weeks away.”

“You’ll do ok,” You said, smiling reassuringly at him, “You have me as a tutor, how could you fail?”

His nose scrunched, fake disgusted face as he snorted at you, “That doesn’t reassure me at all, princess.”

You kicked him under the table, a smile growing on your face as he laughed. You started pulling your books out, quill and ink soon following. Glancing at Jungkook as he bent down to do the same.

He looked as handsome as he normally did, hair messy in all of the perfect ways. Your heartbeat sped up the more you looked at him, and how far the two of you had come. A few months ago you would have never been caught dead sitting across from him in the library three days of the week. But now you were starting to enjoy his company, and honestly, you considered him a friend.

“Are you gonna teach me potions or just stare at me today?” his voice drew you from your thoughts, cocky grin back on his face as he shot you a wink.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, directing him to turn his book to a certain page, and the two of you got to work.

It was a comfortable silence, only talking when Jungkook asked you a question about the work or when the two of you took breaks. With tired, ink covered hands scrawling the last words of your homework you sagged in your seat. You let out a big yawn, glancing at where Jungkook still sat, hard at work. Looking through his potions notes.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, “I think that’s enough for the night.”

“Mh,” he hummed noncommittally, eyes never leaving his notes.

“You’re not listening to me!” you exclaimed, mouth pulling into a smirk, “You’re the worst quidditch player I’ve ever seen.”

You paused, waiting for him to have some sort of reaction, but he sat still reading, scratching his forehead.

“You have a tiny dick,” you said, pouting as he sat with a blank face, “You’re not half bad,” you said, last ditch effort to get him to respond in any way.

Jungkook just smiled, putting his notes down before looking at you, “I’m the best quidditch player at Hogwarts, you wouldn’t know anything about my dick, and you’re not half bad yourself, snake princess. Now if you’re done trying to get my attention, we really should get going.”

You scowled at him, putting your materials away as he teased you.

“How was I supposed to know you could hear me?” you whined, pouting as Jungkook tugged your bag into his arms.

“I responded to you the first time!” Jungkook laughed, holding the library door open for you.

“You hummed! That’s totally not an answer!”

“Maybe not to you,” he grinned, ignoring the pout the was firmly set on your face, “Ah, c’mon, Princess. Who would I be if I didn’t mess with you at least a little bit?”

“A decent human being,” you grumbled, ignoring his laugh as you turned the corner to the dungeons, not even realizing Jungkook had walked you back, “You didn’t have to walk me back.”

“It’s no big deal,” he said, handing you your bag and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I know I don’t remember everything that happened,” you started, his doe eyes softening, “but I really feel safe around you, Kookie. I was thinking we could try to be friends?”

“Just friends?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, “But what if I want to be more than just friends, princess?”

You swear your heart stopped in the moment, his cocky grin enough to stop it beat in its tracks. Your eyes fluttering shut as he started leaning in.

“Goodnight, princess,” He whispered, voice ghosting on the shell of your ear. You jumped at his voice, eyes opening quickly at the realization that he was not about to kiss you.

When he leaned back, you could’ve slapped the smug grin he had on his face right off, hand coming out to give you a wave as he spun on his heels.

You trudged into the common room, ignoring the taunts of your classmates and walking right past Jimin and Yoongi. Giddy smile never leaving your lips even as your head hit your pillow.

It was the best you had slept in weeks.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook hogwarts au #gryffindor!jungkook #jungkook #bts hogwarts au #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Photo

Title: ghosts of christmases past

Theme: holiday party

Fandom / Character(s):Juice Ortiz x OFC! Hazel Morrow.

Warnings: A little bit angsty/bittersweet here. This is kind of Juice and Hazel being stuck on the side of the road together and... internally reflecting on their last christmas together, alone and earlier at the MC. One in particular. Listen, if I’m never gonna write either version of this story, just enjoy these random ass little bits as they come to me, lmaooo. Love you guys.

FYI, the bit in italics is Haze having a bit of a flashback. This ties to the theme, I promise.. It’s theme adjacent...

I made the moodboard thing. Don’t steal or repost/claim as your own.

Word Count: uhh.. 300 to 700+, roughly.

My last intention was for this to... Turn angsty and bittersweet. But alas, here we are.. But don’t fret, it ends kinda.. somewhat happily.

Also, again.. I made the banner for this. Don’t steal or repost.

TAGGING:

@chasingeverybreakingwave @sassymox and @kyleoreillysknee are the only people on my Sons Of Anarchy taglist. If you’d like to be on there, dm my main or this blog or click that link belowa nd add yourself.

also gonna tag bb @champbucks and @12daysofchristmas

[ about my writing | masterlist | multifandom tag doc ]

“Sweetie, can you go with Juice into town? Your brother said that Tig and Chibs are sending him after some things for the party tonight and I need a few things too. I’d do it, but I’m kind of enjoying Grandma time with little bit and your nephews.”

My mom thought she was asking the harmless questions. Apparently, she’d completely forgotten how Juice and I can’t even be in the same room anymore without either a shouting match or awkward silence and heavy tension as the air around us filled to the brim with things that hadn’t been said.

And all I could think was that this time a few years ago, before I left town, we were so happy. I thought he was it for me. I thought back then that by now, we’d be settled down. That maybe Juice would be working at Teller Morrow and I’d be teaching or something.

I swallowed hard and nodded. My mom wasn’t going to let me out of this and obviously, whatever she needed was important.

She handed me a list and some money. I tried to shove the money back at her, explaining that I’d pay, but she wouldn’t hear it.

As I went to walk out the door, my mom called out to me. “Juice was a better man than Jase.”

I whirled around, gazing at my mother with my brow raised. “ If this is your way of saying you told me so, Mom… Trust me. Lesson learned.”

“No, I was just suggesting that maybe you use the time you’re out with Juice, you at least attempt to talk to him. I know things went wrong back then, but I also know that if you didn’t still feel something and feel it strongly, you wouldn’t spend so much time picking fights with the poor guy. He doesn’t really have anyone but the club, Hazelynn.”

I opened my mouth but I closed it. My mom had a point. And lately, any fool could see that Juice was really going through it.. He rarely talked to anyone, he was always so damn tense I thought he’d jump right out of his skin. If he did have to interact with me, he was even more tense. Standoffish, even, and that wasn’t like the man I’d known years before. That wasn’t the man I loved. Juice was more easy going and a bit of a joker. Not this tense and serious guy he’d apparently turned into as of late.

I was beyond worried about him. To a point where my own current situation was sort of taking a backseat. But any attempt I’d made to reconnect had been met with annoyance. Bitterness. And deep down, that cut me.

He was literally the one man I’d honestly never wanted to give up back then. But I had to at least try to follow my dreams. I had to at least try living a life free of the MC and it’s dangers and scary situations. I’d just needed a break.

“You know I’m right, Hazelynn. You look at him the way I used to look at Jax’s father. You never wanted to break it off back then. You’re home now. You’re safe. You deserve to be happy. And if Juice makes you happy, maybe you need to stop pushing that down and lean into it. Just a thought, sweetie.”

“Mom, I…”

“No buts. Go. I need everything on that list now, not four hours from now.”

I eyed my mom and after a second or two, I walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, stopping to put on a light jacket. It wasn’t terribly cold, but I knew it would get cooler the later in the afternoon it got. I made my way down the hall and into the guest room where I’d put down my little girl Serena earlier after she crashed for her daily nap. I leaned over and brushed my lips against her forehead. “Mommy will be back as soon as she can, okay? Until then, Gramma’s got you. Be sweet, little angel.” I muttered, walking to the door of the bedroom and shutting it quietly behind me so the boys didn’t run in and wake her up.

I’d just walked outside when Juice’s motorcycle as well as my brother’s and Opie’s came to a stop in front of my mother’s house. They were laughing and talking and as usual, the second Juice and I locked eyes, his jaw set and the smile was gone. There was only hurt and bitterness there.

Opie and Jax shared a look and quickly retreated to the inside of our mom’s house and I shuffled my feet, trying to figure out a way to ask if he’d give me a ride to town too. Even though I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the last thing he wanted to do was have me riding behind him on his bike. Even something as simple as an accidental brushing of bodies lately seemed to make him overly annoyed.

And it hurt.

I knew I’d hurt him. I just wanted to make up for that. But so far, he wasn’t willing to let me.

“Are you going into town?” I asked the question tentatively. Juice stopped messing with the bike to look over at me and then he shrugged. “Maybe. Why?”

“My mom, uhh.. She needs some stuff from the grocery. I’d go in my car but it’s kind of sitting in Teller Morrow on a jack right now…” I gave a sheepish look and bit my lip, watching his facial expression as he seemed to take forever mulling it over.

“Fine. I’m leavin now though.”

“I’m all ready to go.” I answered, stepping a little closer. I stared up at him intently, noticing just how pronounced the deep circles seemed to be under his eyes. He clearly hadn’t been sleeping.

,, Oh Juice,” I thought to myself, ,, Why do I feel like there’s something wrong but you stubbornly refuse to reach out.”

He eyed me and bit his lip. For a few seconds, I almost thought he was going to say something. He looked like he wanted to ask me something so badly that it literally almost came out, but he closed his mouth and cleared his throat, nodding to his motorcycle. “Hold on tight.”

I slipped onto the bike behind him, careful to hold on tight but leave distance. Last thing I wanted was for him to get annoyed because I was leaning against him a little.

The ride into town was quiet, only the sounds of the motor and the wind. I shivered a little, wishing I’d opted for a long sleeve beneath my thin jacket too. I’d forgotten just how chilly it got to ride a motorcycle, because I hadn’t done it in so long.

The lights of town were coming into view when things went downhill quick, fast and in a hurry.

The motorcycle got wobbly and Juice swore, pulling over on the side of the road, near one of the canyons. The wind picked up a bit and I hugged myself. Juice kicked at the motorcycle and dragged a hand over his head. A movement which I spent far too long staring at as my mind just kind of… Drifted.

To a Christmas a few years ago, back before everything went so horribly wrong between us.

XXX

“ Baby girl, wake up.”

The warmth of his breath against my ear had my eyes fluttering open and as soon as I saw the bright midmorning sun, I groaned. “Oh no. Mom is going to absolutely murder me.”

“We both crashed. Question, how dead do you think I’m about to be in Clay Morrow’s eyes, scale of ten?” Juice asked the question as he rushed around, grabbing my clothes for me so I could go and jump in the shower. My head was pounding. I knew the few drinks I had the night before at the MC Christmas party had been a very, very bad idea… Especially when you consider that of my entire family, I’m the one who never does things like this.

But last night had been magical. Cuddling in front of a bonfire with Juice, wrapped in a blanket. Stargazing as we sipped cocoa and later, whiskey… and we just kind of really talked about the future. Where we saw things going.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that after I graduated in the spring, I was heading off to UCLA. And that I intended to put distance between myself and Charming for a while. I just.. I needed the break from the rollercoaster of crazy my life had always been. I needed time to process discovering that my father wasn’t the same man as Jax’s father, but Clay Morrow, a man that I really hadn’t ever bonded with. A man that I’d always seen as merely ‘dad’s replacement’.

I didn’t want to ruin our time left together, so I hadn’t quite told him yet.

His arms wrapped around me from behind just as I went to step into the shower in his bathroom and he muttered quietly against the shell of my ear, “Want some help washing off, baby girl?”

I turned to face him, melting against him and biting my lip as I gave a soft laugh and giggled. “Your hands all over me? It’s only one of my biggest fantasies, baby.”

His mouth crashed against mine passionately, our tongues tangling, his hands all over me as he pulled me even closer somehow and mumbled into the deep and passionate kiss, “Love you so fuckin much baby girl. Can’t wait until we don’t have to deal with curfews and all this other shit. When it’s just you an’ me. Our own little family.”

I swallowed down the lump in my throat and smiled up at him, nodding even though I knew I wouldn’t be around for a while. But not having the heart to tell him…

XXX

“I asked you a question, Haze. You listenin to me?” Juice’s stern tone had my head snapping up and I bit my lip, surveying the blown tire. I finally managed to clear my mind from my memories enough to ask what he’d said and he grumbled, repeating himself.

He’d asked if I had any signal on my cell phone. I handed it over and he took it, unlocking it and promptly pausing.

And in that moment, I wanted to kick myself, because I forgot that I’d taken a photo of him with Serena asleep a few days ago at the MC when she got dropped off there to be watched by Jax and the guys until I finished my shift at the hospital. I’d come in to find her asleep on Juice’s chest, arms around his neck. She’d told me on the way home that she had three favorite uncles now… Apparently, she’d really bonded with Juice.

I told myself that I put the picture on my phone because my little girl was in it. But deep down I knew it was more or less because the two people I loved most in the world were in a photo together and I wanted it where I could see it every time I had a shitty day or a long double shift at the hospital.

He glanced at me, rubbing his hand over his head and held the phone back out in haste. “None. Same as mine. We’re either walkin or we’re standin here all night. Because I don’t exactly have a spare.”

“Shit… I.. I can walk up the road a little, see if maybe I can pick up service.” I offered, starting to walk away before Juice even had a chance to verbally answer. I’d gotten a few feet away from the motorcycle and Juice and I heard him running to catch up, stopping me.

“It’s getting dark. I’ll come with ya.”

“I figured you might want some space, I… you were getting annoyed.” I mumbled softly, staring up at him. His entire expression changed and he sighed quietly, shaking his head no, tilting my chin up when I decided it was better if I looked down and not directly at him.

Because I couldn’t take the pain in his eyes anymore. I also hated that I was the reason it was there to begin with.

Everything had gone so horribly wrong between us and it was all my fault. All because I’d been too afraid to do what I really wanted. Too young, too stupid, too filled with all these big plans. Plans that all went wrong and even if they did go alright, they always felt wrong. I’d never really felt like I was where I was supposed to be.

But since I’d come home?

I hadn’t felt like I was ever supposed to be anywhere else. Maybe I never should’ve left. Maybe then my daughter would have a good father and not some prick of a sperm donor who was already married and wanted no part of her, or of me.

“I wasn’t. It’s just hard bein around you… Knowin that I wasn’t enough.” Juice mumbled quietly and I gave a quiet gasp.

“Juice, you’ve always been more than I deserved.” I found the courage to actually hold his gaze, my brows knit in concern because his words weren’t like him… and somehow, I knew he meant them and that he felt them.

Had he always felt them?

“That’s not why I left…” I started, only to go silent. “I left because I had to know if there was more to life. I needed a break from the craziness and I had a lot on my mind. I was so in love with you that sometimes it scared me.” I trailed off completely, muttering the last part “I wish I never left every single day.” quietly enough that I thought maybe he wouldn’t hear it.

But he did hear it. And he tilted my chin again, leaning down a little, his mouth brushing against mine. “It’s also hard bein around you because I still love you, baby girl. I never stopped. I just thought you didn’t...”

“I didn’t what?” I asked, my mouth brushing up against his with each word that left it. His fingertips dug into my waist and I rubbed against him just a little, my breaths shaky and erratic. Everything coming at me so fast I didn’t have time to process. I waited on him to answer.

“That maybe you didn’t love me.” he finally answered, adding quickly, “I was scared back then too…” his hand caressed my cheeks and he stared into my eyes. The wind picked up and he wrapped his arms around me to try keeping me warm just a little.

“I still love you too.” I admitted it quietly, making him blink in shock when his eyes met mine. He swallowed hard and started to tenderly move his hands up and down my sides, one hand stopping to caress my cheek all over again.

“First.. We get off the side of the fuckin road.. Then, baby girl… when we get back to the MC, we’re going to have a serious talk, okay?”

I gave a soft laugh and nodded. “Okay. That’s fair enough. Let’s go try to find a spot with some service, yeah?”

“Yeah, even though I don’t wanna let you go right now.”

“You have all night to dance with me and hold me.. Like that last Christmas party we went to back then.. I’ve missed us so much.” I pointed out, making him nod.

Nothing mattered but getting back to the MC. Because I had so much I wanted to say. So much I needed to do to make things right again. To show him that I loved him and I’d missed him every single day I was away. That I made a huge mistake back then and I was so sorry.

#12daysofchristmas #12 days of christmas #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz imagines #my writing; juice ortiz #my fics; juice ortiz #my moodboards; juice ortiz #this might be a lil angsty i warn

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feather-dancer · 4 years

Note

“I know there is still a lot both of you have and are still are keeping from me, leaving me with little more than the scraps like you think I'm so fragile that I would break if I went and anything found out. You know like the incidents you turned into innocent dinner conversation while he went and waved me off or straight up lied with talk of camping while really he was out there fighting for his very life."

The sheer discomfort of being so ceremoniously outted must be rather blatantly on show along with the crushing realisation of exactly where this is going now even before a finger is pointed at his chest all judgment and fire. Her gaze only hardens further when it meets his own widening green.

"So I need to know: was it you, Walter. Were you the reason he wrote that letter?"

The implication is clear: Honesty as had been promised or else.

Ok, I adore all of the Stricklake interaction in chapter 2 of the Ghost AU, but this part always gets me. She’s just like - tell me the truth or that’s it. No more excuses, no more bullshit.

And internally he’s like,

Aaaaah

The letter originally was just a what if scenario I tossed in as the potential to do it was right there because as far we know, it was never brought up again after Barbara challenged Jim in the hospital (Where she said she never read it) and given everything that had happened since then it’d be... Well if he wrote it THEN before she knew either time how dangerous things were for her son and essentially shut off since, what kinda things was he facing at the time that led him to genuinely fear he was going to die? Strickler was always gonna be the first person her mind would jump to on reading it even though hilariously in this is that rare case he is both completely innocent and oblivious to the actual cause.

Which is very :D Oh no for us.

This was actually one of the parts of the entire Stricklake scene that got shuffled around a lot because of the flow not working right, the original version of this being very different in how it happened too. Barbara still was very upfront on her thoughts though, I remember sending an early version to a friend which might still be blowing around my DMs though bits and pieces of it survived intact? I know they suggested (Having not seen Trollhunters, they’re incredibly indulgent of me) throwing in a mention of exactly what those two were doing behind her back which later became that first paragraph! Really glad they did as it gave more of a focus for her to collect her thoughts together before the accusation happens..

The line “The implication is clear: Honesty as had been promised or else.” actually kept haunting me as it sat at the top of a page staring at me anytime I was doing edits around there, clearly I needed reminding too.

I’m so glad it paid off tho given how damn self indulgent the entire Stricklake section was! The second one I at least had a genuine excuse to happen but that one? Noooot so much. The one I’m writing atm is a tad self indulgent too I will admit but it’s needed for those who might not read the oneshot.

Ty <3 My morning has been made.

#Ghost!AU #writing. Also A+ gif usage omfg #megan0013

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bijackkellys · 4 years

Text

thunderstruck ; part two

a tergo lupi

Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types) Relationships: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Word Count: 1,931 Dedications: as always a big shoutout to my wonderful gf and beta reader @mistyw273 and to @dimenovelcowboy for being such an amazing friend. tag list (if you’d like to be added to this list just send me an ask or dm!): @santa-fe-maniac @pulitzers-world @yo-let-me-get-a-milkyway @verified-dumbass @jewishdavidjacobs @agentsnickers @thetruthabouttheboy Author’s Note: not me going back on my proposed updating schedule already...but this is an early update, so i figured it would be excusable. tomorrow's a bit of a personal day for me so i'd thought i'd get this out here now so i can keep my head clear. up until this point, it's been pretty jack-centric—but davey is finally here! tw for mild violence (it's not graphic!). thank you again to my lovely readers for all of your support.

read it on ao3

IT’S MIDDAY AND SWELTERING on their way back from the library. The late-June heat is bright and vivid—it’s not as bad as it could be, Davey thinks—it’s not August, but sweat trickles down his back and beads on his forehead all the same. He finds himself wishing they had chased down the snow cone truck that had passed them a few blocks back. He’d probably be able to look past the taste of straight sugar and food coloring if it meant having something cold on his tongue right now.

Les, to his credit, remains unbothered by the heat. He’s busy avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk and rambling about the books he picked up; he didn’t quite inherit the penchant for reading that Davey and Sarah both had when they were kids, but recently, Davey got him hooked on the Percy Jackson series, and he’s barely stopped talking about it since.

He’s giving a full-disclosure review of The Battle of the Labyrinth when they round the corner to their stretch of apartment buildings, and at the same moment Davey’s phone pings.

“—and I didn’t like Rachel in the beginning but then she nailed Kronos in the face with a hairbrush so now I think she’s a badass,” Les says, and Davey should chide him for his language except his eyes settle down on a text from Sarah and his stomach drops a few hundred feet.

SNATCHERS ARE HERE. GET LES TO SAFETY. DON’T CALL US.

At the end of the street, next to their building, there’s a van with the windows blacked out.

“We need to go,” Davey says, the words thick and heavy and dark in his mouth. The borrowed books tumble from his arms. Les’s gaze snaps up to him, confused, and Davey takes his hand and half-drags him back around the corner, heart pounding in his ears.

They’d been so careful. When Les, the anomaly, the only super in their family, had started showing his powers, they’d pulled him out of school, tried their best to teach him control despite having no experience whatsoever. Les was a fast learner, though. He’d gone from having flowers trail behind his every step to knowing how to coax the vegetables in their mother’s garden to perfect ripeness in a matter of weeks, and he hid his abilities well. They thought that made him safe.

Clearly they were wrong.

“What’s going on?” Les demands, tugs against him.

In that moment he looks more eleven years old and afraid than he has in a long time, and Davey wants nothing more than to be patient and gentle and kind with him. But there’s no time; the explanation spills forth in a rush. “They’re here for you, Les. Snatchers. We can’t go home, maybe not for a while.”

Les’s eyes go wider, mouth quivering. “What about Mom and Dad and Sarah?”

“They’ll be okay. They’re not here for them. But we need to run, Les, now.” He risks a glance over his shoulder and sees two men in jet-black uniforms striding towards them, and his heart leaps into his throat. “C’mon!”

He tightens his grip on Les’s hand and they bolt together down the sidewalk, shoving past the crowds. Davey doesn’t know where they’re going, just knows they can’t stop. The Snatchers are on their heels, shouting something unintelligible at them, their words lost to the noise of the streets. Davey’s too busy running through prayers in his head to care; he pleads with God for protection and luck and maybe a miracle.

Then, Les is jerked out of his hand, and for one dark, fleeting moment, Davey loses faith.

There’s a hand over his mouth before his brother’s name can rip from his throat. Davey struggles against it, kicking and yelling and shoving blindly as someone drags him into an alleyway and pins him against the wall. They’re stronger than he is and Davey, though fighting for his brother and therefore unrelenting, is overpowered. There’s a hand on his chest and one still firmly muffling his shouts.

“Shut up,” a voice hisses, low and dangerous beside Davey’s ear. “I’m trying to help you.”

The words take a moment to register in Davey’s mind. He blinks, his eyes searching for Les, who stands a few feet away in the shadows of the alley, looking drawn and afraid but safe. Davey goes still.

The pressure on his chest eases marginally, and it’s in that moment that he allows his gaze to settle on the stranger. The boy can’t be much older than him, with a tousle of dark hair and eyes as hard and bright as live steel. He’s oddly familiar. His clothes are tattered and he looks sort of haunted, like he’s maybe been running forever, but still, there’s this graceful edge to his features and something proud and defiant in his expression.

And he’s very close to Davey’s face.

Davey feels his cheeks grow maddeningly warm and hopes that the blush that comes all too easily to them isn’t showing. By the smirk on the boy’s face, there’s no chance.

“Stay quiet,” he says, slowly removing his hand from Davey’s mouth and giving him a look that is all at once warning and teasing.

Davey gives a shaky exhale and moves towards Les. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, and his younger brother nods, sending a cool trickle of relief through Davey’s stomach. His eyes return to their rescuer; there’s a million questions burning in his throat—who he is, why he helped them, if they’ve met before, why there’s a pair of broken cuffs around his wrists—but in the end, he doesn’t voice any of them. He just shifts his weight and says, “Thank you.”

The boy gives him a grim sort of smile. “Don’t mention it. You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No,” Davey shakes his head. “You saved us.”

He opens his mouth as though to respond to this, but then his eyes catch on something in the entrance to the alleyway and his expression drops, replaced with a harsh, flinty glare. “Maybe not,” he says darkly. “Get behind me.”

There’s a Snatcher standing between the brick, dressed like a shadow and pointing the muzzle of a gun at them. Davey feels fear jump through him, hot and sharp, and takes a step back, shoving Les behind him.

“What do you know,” the man spits, his eyes and crude smile flashing, “Jack Kelly, the walking ghost. And harboring another little super-powered brat—Snyder’s gonna be thrilled.”

Jack Kelly. The pieces slot together in Davey’s mind; that’s why he looked familiar—Davey has seen him on the news. He’s Strike, an ex-hero turned criminal, an arsonist. A murderer. Davey reels back, a bitter taste in his mouth, and places a protective arm around Les.

Jack barely reacts. His gaze is set on the man in front of him, hands tightening into fists, and Davey can see the tension that pulls his shoulders and the muscle in his jaw taut. He and the Snatcher survey each other, poised like two wolves, both equally deadly. The air reeks of oncoming disaster.

It’s Jack who moves first, as quick and sharp as lightning. A shot goes off, and Davey feels Les flinch violently against him, but the bullet pings uselessly against the wall and only seconds later the Snatcher’s gun is on the ground. Davey almost doesn’t know who to root for—in between a kidnapper and an arsonist who set a whole hospital on fire, it’s picking the lesser of two evils—but Jack seems to have no interest in hurting Les and is therefore the only person that Davey can trust to get them out of here alive. Not to mention that he’s winning; Jack moves fluidly but with purpose, dodging nimbly out of the way of the Snatcher’s blows and landing swift, hard jabs.

Davey half wonders why he isn’t using his powers, but he doesn’t seem to need them. The Snatcher is stumbling back already, and as he rears a fist back for a blow, Jack’s hand darts out and strikes the man just above his collarbone. One stinging, targeted hit and the Snatcher crumples, like a marionette whose strings have been cut.

Jack turns slowly to Davey. He’s swaying on his feet, knuckles split and breathing hard, like that was all the fight he had left in him, but Davey can’t dredge up any sympathy. Not for the person who burned down a building full of innocent people. “You’re supposed to be dead,” he says.

“So I’ve heard,” Jack replies. His eyes are lidded, exhaustion palpable in the air around him, but he levels his gaze with Davey’s. “Look, I know what you’ve heard—”

“That you set a hospital on fire? That you’re a murderer?”

Hurt cuts across Jack’s face, leaving no trace of the wolfish snarl it held only moments before. “It wasn’t me,” he bursts. “I know what they said on the news, but I swear to you, I didn’t do it.”

He sounds sincere, almost desperate. But Davey isn’t stupid; he knows that killers make good liars. “Why should I believe you?” he demands, and he’s tempted to call the police, to let them know that Strike is alive and on the run, but Les is still behind him and Jack is standing in between them and the alley’s only opening.

“Because I just saved your life,” Jack says, and rubs at his wrist beneath the cuff, “and because I can help you.”

Davey grits his teeth. “I don’t need your help. All I need is for you to leave us alone.”

Jack shrinks back as though he’s been burned, as though Davey is the arsonist between them. With a heavy breath, he steps to the side, and Davey takes Les’s trembling hand and leads him toward the exit.

“Where will you go?” Jack’s voice comes suddenly, and Davey whirls around. Jack puts his hands up in surrender, the metal around them catching in the light. “I just want to know if you have somewhere safe to stay. The streets are crawling with Snatchers, I’ve seen them everywhere. If they’re looking for you, luck won’t get you far.”

He doesn’t say it like a threat, just a warning. His dark eyes are earnest, and for a moment Davey thinks he looks less like a killer and more like the masked hero he’d seen pictures and grainy videos of online, pulling people from car wrecks, stopping thieves, saving lives. For the first time, he wonders if Jack is telling the truth.

And either way, he’s right. Davey and Les have nowhere to go, no other family in the city, and they can’t just wander the streets until it’s safe to go home. But Jack has saved them twice today already. He’s left the door wide open for them to walk away if they choose to—and while it goes against every inch of Davey’s moral code to accept help from a killer, his priority is keeping Les safe. If going with Jack is the only way to do that, then he supposes he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“Alright, Kelly,” he says finally, tightening his grip on Les’s hand and praying that he isn’t about to make a mistake in trusting a wolf. “Let’s say I accept. How do you plan to help us?”

“I know someone who can give us a place to spend the night.” Jack’s eyes flash in the first real, genuine smile that he’s given since they met. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna love her.”

#THUNDERSTRUCK #newsies #writing #my writing #newsies fanfic #jack kelly #david jacobs #javid #jathvey #ot3: watch what happens #umanawrites #newsies the musical

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bekahdoesnerdshit · 4 years

Note

ask Two for the angst ones this time: 13 for raini, 5 (possibly will be pertinent come the end of this minicampaign) & 29 (she literally has Any Weapon w/ her pact so it's fititng) for ayen, 7 & 10 (hehe I know there's trauma in this one) for cog, and then mix and match 4, 17, 18 between Caspian, Ryker, and Brilliance bc I don't know them as well and I would Like To

My life is just below readmores now, I guess. Will I ever learn to shut the fuck up? No! And that is a promise

Raini

13. What does it take to make your character cry? Oh boy. Raini definitely isn’t a big crier, because she a) doesn’t really let herself get to that point and b) hard pivots into “angry” over “upset” and she isn’t an angry crier. She’s cried twice in game so far, and probably not many times before that. In both in game cases -and likely the always alluded to but never seen “before times”- the catalyst for her crying was being overwhelmed. In a good way, bad way, whatever, but that’s the trigger. Just- Looking at something, not knowing what else to do but let yourself cry about it, and not seeing any reason to stop yourself. (shfjsdjkfh the funny answer is: during sex. But can you IMAGINE jskdfskjdf)

Ayen

5. Would they ever turn on someone they just met in order to save themselves? Oh for sure. Without question. Not without guilt, in fairness, but without question. She’s pretty well adjusted, pretty “go with the flow”, but she did grow up in a pretty cutthroat world. She was spared from having to make those kinds of brutal decisions from a super young age by Shadow Mom, but she definitely saw the fallout of those choices and learned that, while it’s all well and good to do the “right” thing, it’s much more important to do the right thing for you. If that means condemning some stranger to die so you and yours don’t have to? So be it. Better people have done worse, because that’s sometimes just how things go. I’ll be honest! This character decision was a completely on the fly one when we were having that debate in the library about what we should do with the information we learned in the library. But I stand by it. In character, Ayen 1000% sees whatever’s going on as Not Her Business. It’s fucked up, sure! But, you know. Not her monkeys, not her circus. 29. What is their weapon of choice, and what weapon do they dislike using the most? Bro I love that Ayen doesn’t have A Specific Weapon SO much. Especially because Pact of the Blade specifically makes it so that, whatever weapon she summons, she’s proficient in while wielding it. So she sees somebody using a weapon, goes “oh! cool!” and summons it herself, and then just. Intuitively knows how to use is. How fucking funny is that conceptually?? Her go to if things are serious or she doesn’t have time to pick something obscure is a longsword. Dad uses a greatsword, and a longsword is pretty close to that! Image how cool they looked fighting off assholes, back to back, with two bigass swords? Is that the only reason it’s her favorite? No of course not!!!! That would- that would be silly. And childish. Swords are just cool is all. She hasn’t used any in game, but I think she honestly just doesn’t like any kind of polearm. It’s like, is it technically safer to be a little further from your enemy? Sure. Does it give you a small tactical advantage? Maybe so. But they’re so uglyyyy and they look weird and you have to use both hands and the balance is weird and >:( Spears can stay because you can throw them but you’re on thin fucking ice.

Cog

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why? Thank GOD Alex I wanted this one for Cog SO bad!!! Valentine WastelandGame! If you can read this! You’re a dead motherfucker!! This is for a variety of reasons including but not limited to: - Is responsible for the deaths of at least 3 separate world leaders! Uh oh! - Asked for my blood one time! To do Science on! Not cool! - Ace doesn’t like him. Enough said. - Called Ace “hotheaded” and “brutish” keep his NAME out of your MOUTH - Is fucking Maelo’s ex I think? Honestly I lost that plot on that one a little bit - Keeps taking Sunny on dates! We’re protective and Jealous?? Hard to say! We don’t have time to unpack this one let’s keep moving - Is convinced aliens exist? And are coming to attack the world? OKAY - Talks in fucking circles about philosophy and the greater meaning of “good” and “evil” in the context of the world. Like, no sir! Good is when you help people and evil is when you kill them! Except unless it’s me killing you which is going to happen because I can cast Finger of Death now and you better believe that spell has your fucking name on it. Freak boy. - Just like. Eats straight raw steak. Not Evil but really weird and probably not great for you? - Overall just a very bad slimy manipulative and stinky dude. 0/10 I’m gonna put an arcane bullet in his skull. Like. Everything Valentine does, everything she learns about him, convinces Cog more and more that the world would be a better, safer place if he wasn’t allowed to exist in it anymore. She was kinda neutral on the guy until he gave his grand speech in Cormir about how the only way to save the world is to ‘conquer and subdue it’ and tried to talk her in circles enough that she had to agree with him or seem like a hypocrite. Since then, it’s been a slow creep from “I don’t trust this man and don’t want to work with him again, even if it makes our lives harder” to “he’s dangerous and needs to be stopped” to “...if given the opportunity, I would kill him myself”. And now that she has our new friend the Shadow Demon whispering in her ear, telling her that “the world will tremble and change before her” and that she should “stride boldly, and fear not the consequences that may follow” honestly? The next time we see Valentine, he might be in trouble! 10. What were the character’s parents like? What was the affect the parents had on the character? Oh, is there trauma in this one? Is there? Alex? Is there? Maybe so!! We’re gonna talk about Cog’s dad first, because he’s a) still alive and b) I KNOW you’re fishing for more mom angst. Cog’s dad name is Conrad Grace! He’s the head of Lafaroh’s town guard, whatever that means for a town of maybe a hundred people. I feel like his day to day really consists more of making rounds to check on people than dealing with criminals, although he likely has to break up the occasional disagreement or toss somebody in the drunk tank for the night. He’s also in charge of making sure the Guardians -the gods that live deep in the swamp outside Lafaroh and protect the town in exchange for food, building supplies, the occasional corpse, and other resources- get their offerings (This is Important, because he does Stop doing that soon). He married into he Grace family (that’s RIGHT he took his wife’s last name because it’s 2021 and he’s Woke not because her family like runs the town okay moving on), initially because I genuinely believe he fell in love! They were probably pretty young, because Lafaroh is very much a Deep South Swamp Town Analogue, but I don’t think it was just a social power move. The most important Conrad fact? He told Cog that he became disillusioned with the Church when she left home, because he couldn’t imagine continuing to support something he could now see had so clearly been hurting her. And I, Rebekah, a homosexual who has had Words with my Christian parents about the way their religion has hurt me? OH buddy we were a little bit of a mess about it. DM Ryan! Don’t you know I’m projecting!! Please be more careful! (Editor’s Note: This is the moment that made me realize I was projecting. Whoopso!!) Cog’s mom name is Charlotte Grace Sr. because, I guess, we’re freaks. I hate that this makes Cog technically a junior because the thought of anyone calling her Charlotte Jr. makes me break out in hives, but it is, technically, correct. The distinction while Cog was growing up was, instead, “Charlotte” and “Charlotte Olivia” because, again, we’re southern as hell. Charlotte Sr. is, unsurprisingly, the head of Lafaroh’s church, which means she very much has more actual power than her husband does. She did love Cog, I think, but in a way that very much more felt like someone guarding an investment than raising a child, especially when Cog became a teenager. She had high, exacting expectations, and grew more distant from Cog the older she got. Whether this was an unintentional side-effect of Charlotte Sr. becoming more engrossed in the preparations necessary to allow Cog to become the “Conduit”, or whether it was a purposeful decision because she knew she would lose her daughter and wanted the sacrifice to hurt less is unclear. Cog’s dad is kinda just a dude, but we KNOW this bitch has mommy issues. I also think an important distinction to draw between the two is that while I’m willing to give Conrad the benefit of the doubt and say that he may have just wanted Cog to stay in Lafaroh when they party returned because he was worried about his daughter and wanted her home, Charlotte Sr. wanted Cog there because it was Where She Was Supposed To Be, because she had a destiny to fulfill. More than that, when Charlotte Sr. found out that Conrad had stopped sending supplies to the Guardians when Cog left and had instead been selling them to Bandits to get money to rebuild the town, she was not nearly so understanding. She accused him of heresy, and ordered for him to be, uh. Flayed alive. Which wasn’t great. It’s what got her killed ultimately; Cog had to choose between her parents, and after watching her Mama summon a shadow demon that very nearly choked the life out of Sunny? It was a choice with only one possible outcome.

Caspian

18. Would society call your character a good guy or a bad guy? What would they say they are? Caspian is. Caspian is Just a person. Like she is just out here doing her best, trying not to get killed by, idk. Pirates or ghosts or w/e. This is an endeavor that, statistically, could be going a lot better. I think the more interesting angle to look at this question from is the fact that she’s a monk from a well known monastery, and that there’s Expectations on how she conducts herself in the world as a result of that. She is Just A Person, but that’s not good enough. Not when she’s running around wearing Pelor’s holy symbol, representing his monastery, reflecting on him. For a long time, I think Caspian resented the expectation that put on her! Why can’t she just be a kid? Just a person? She didn’t ask to be raised by these monks in this kind of life. But when she left home and realized how suddenly lonely she was, there were quiet, sad moments it was easy to soften with prayer. Rekindling her relationship with her god was her way of staying connected to home, and I think it also made her want to go from being Just a Person to actually wanting to take pride in being a Good Person. And then her campaign lasted for two fucking seconds lmao so it didn’t even matter hahah! :)

Ryker

4. Has your character ever been hurt or betrayed by someone they thought they could depend on? What happened? YEAH BOY rye-bread got his SHIT handed to him lmaoooo His whole “why are you adventuring?” deal is that he fell in love with the noblewoman he was hired to escort across the country to her betrothed’s estate, and she played him like a fucking fiddle and convinced him -after her wedding, after she was pregnant with her husband’s first child and therefore heir- that she was in love with him too. But of course, because she was married, her husband would never let them be happy together. She talked Ryker into killing her husband, and promised to meet him the night he did it with horses and supplies for both of them. Anyone reading along at home with even a shred of common sense probably just said, “uh oh!” And uh oh indeed; she fully sold his ass out. There’s something emotionally devastating about slipping out of the bedroom of the man you just killed, his blood still on your hands, to find the woman you love standing between two enormous guards, but I can’t quite put my finger on what. Ryker figured out her plan in the following days he spent in a cell, awaiting execution. She didn’t love her husband, but by playing the role of grieving widow and anxious mother-to-be she could ingratiate herself with his family enough to be allowed to take control of the estate while her son, the true heir, grew up to run it. It was cruel, and clean, and if Ryker hadn’t managed to escape it would have gone off without a hitch.

Brilliance

17. Is your character afraid of death? Why/why not? Brilliance isn’t afraid of death, she’s afraid for what she’d leave behind. One of the songs on her playlist really leans into this (and I’m very excited to be posting her playlist soon! Stay tuned!), because she is terrified of what her death might do to Sienna. She never planned to become an adventurer, much less travel to the Hells to try and save an entire city. She was content, more than content, to guard Sune’s church, to help the people that came seeking her goddess’ blessing and guidance. When her city faced a sudden influx of refugees from Elturel after its destruction, she was even happy to volunteer to help the Flaming Fist keep order and root out would-be troublemakers. She never meant to get caught up in a job that would take her out of her home city, much less out of her home plane entirely. Every fight she got into in Hell, every time it seemed like she may be staring down something that might kill her, Brilliance had to swallow down the overwhelming guilt of knowing that if she died here Sienna would never know what happened to her. The image of Sienna, worried and pacing, looking toward the door to their apartment every time there was so much as a whisper in the hallway, desperate for any sign that Brilliance had come home-- It wasn’t delusions of self-importance or self-preservation that had Brilliance taking Glasya’s deal to save her from the narzugon’s clutches; it was the image of Sienna collapsing onto their bed and sobbing because she finally admitted to herself that Brilliance was never coming home. Still. Sienna needs her, but her party needs her too. They’re counting on her to be there for them, to take the big hits that they can’t handle. First one in, last one out; she doesn’t leave until everyone else is safe. She wants to survive, she wants to go home and marry the woman she loves, but she couldn’t live with herself if she did it at the cost of the life of someone who was depending on her. Brilliance isn’t afraid of death; she would die for her party members, even the ones she doesn’t particularly like. She just knows exactly what the cost of her death would be.

#sometimes.........i am a prose boy. sometimes....i write answers like 7 for cog. depends #rainivere #amnesia campaign #ayen morwraek #creepy campaign #cog #wasteland campaign #caspian #gos #ryker #brilliance #dia #syn-odics #answered #also idk if i've mentioned it before but it's very important to me that y'all know the bit about it being 2021 wasn't a joke #canonically wasteland game takes place in 2021 so folks things are Really gonna go to shit in the next four months lmao #uh oh!!#word count: 2633 #mine

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bnhavibes · 5 years

Note

Y/n goes out on a late-night run to get out some nervous energy and ends up running longer than expected. Since their still not tired they decided to call their best friend Shinso to ask if they can come over for a bit. You can decide from there, thank you b.

announcements!!

requests can take a while, i’ve decided to start writing a fic 🥰 but i haven’t chose who to pair with my OC so im going to have you vote in my asks!(or dm me on discord if u want to make certain requests too!

do you want reader insert with (y/n) or should we just name the OC? (side note: whats an alluring name?) <answer a for (y/n), b for (your suggestion).

should it be bxg, bxgxb, or gxgxb? <answer a, b or c>

who would you like to see in this pairing(s)? <answer a, Katsuki Bakugou, b, Shouto Todoroki, c, Izuku Midoriya, d, Ejirou Kirishima, e, Denki Kaminari, f, Momo Yayaorozu, g, Jirou Kyouka, h, Hitoshi Shinsou, i, League of Villains (insert up to 2 members unless you’ve picked a student or hero), j, any other options besides Endeavor, Aayoma, Tokoyami, Asui, Shigaraki, and anybody who’s personality i cannot portray lmfao)

Shinsou, Hitoshi x Reader

(request)

(NSFW) warning!

cussing, some heavy makeouts with descriptive characteristics

not actual penetration

but enough steam to keep it: moisy

College aged upUA! (so basically ua is a college lmao)

18+

this one is gonna be long since i pushed it off so far sorry bb😭

“Hey, you up?”

you: (typing) So I’ve been running for way longer than I thought, stuck thinking and overthinking about my life and I found myself by your apartment and wanted to stop by to get some advice? I know it’s pretty late but you’re always saying if you need me at 2am |

“Fuck, no, I can’t say that!” You growl in frustration before erasing the dumb text. Twiddling your thumbs above the screen as your hands laced the back of your device, you pace around, frantic about how you were gonna tell your old best friend that you were outside his apartment and desperately freezing. (it was like the middle of the night, and yet you were out in a crossed-back tank top, with a windbreaker and loose running shorts.

You and Shinsou have known each other for as long as you remember. You weren’t on good terms for a while; The first time he announced that he got his Quirk, you were out sick, and all of the kids in your class teased and picked on him. He essentially blamed you for not being there and defending him, but you guys didn’t see each other between the end of middle school and middle of high school. Now that you both go to UA, and are at the mercy of pros, you have to deal with working together for the sake of the citizens (even if you have bad blood between you). But you didn’t expect him to be so relieved when he saw you at school. And the two of you got along so well, it was like he was never even mad at you. He did bring it up, once, but he has only ever been nothing but kind to you when you started studying with him.

Then you started hanging out with him.

More and more.

More boundaries being pushed.

More times you’re together than not.

More things to study for? Hah, typical.

Then you’re having sleep overs.

Where you sleep in his bed.

...And he spoons you.

..........Weird.

‘Thats weird, right?’ You think to yourself the morning after. Nobody should be in the same bed with other people if they’re not together right? Shouldn’t it feel weird that you went to bed with another adult? That’s just your friend?

you: Are we just frien—

You stop yourself before even finishing that idiotic question, groaning in frustration. “What the hell do I say to him?” You tell your device more than yourself, at this point, just looking for answers.

New Message: Shinsou

Your eyes bulge out of your head and your hands almost drop your phone at the sudden vibration in your hand.

Shinsou: yeah, im just up doing dumb shit on my computer anyways

you: you mean like beating off? ewwww tmi Shinsou Hitoshi 🥴

Shinsou: fuck you (Y/f&l/N) 😂

Shinsou: if you want me to beat off before you get here, i can tho

you: i mean you’ll have enough time do it, i just so happen to be walking in to your apartment complex 😂😉

You giggle as you head up the stairs to his small student apartment, knowing the way all too well by memory.

Shinsou: wtf? 🤨 why were you all the way over here.

you: i couldn’t sleep, so i decided to go jogging

you: turns out i was drugged

you: kidnapped

you: and returned nearby because i kept annoying the shit out of the dudes

Shinsou: figures. 💀

Shinsou: i would’ve dropped you off at the loony bin tho

Shinsou: we’d probably both have to sign in tbh😂😂

you: 😒 come open the door ya punk.

The warm smell of freshly cooked— or reheated— pizza filled your nostrils as the door was opened for you. Stepping in and removing your shoes, you glance around to see if anyone else was over.

“Sorry, I know I said I would clean it.” He mumbles, thinking you were looking at the mess of a living area he made this morning. (because building forts is cool, okay?)

“No, you’re good,” You chuckle as you remove your jacket, “it IS your house anyways. Not like i can tell you what to do.”

A pregnant pause filled the air before you realized he had went and disappeared to his room and you were still by the door. Shaking your head at yourself, you follow him, building up courage to confront last night’s cuddle thing.

When you got to his room, however, he had laid out a towel on his bed and was looking through his closet. You dropped your shoes and looked around to seethat his shower was running, and there was the hair brush you lost on his desk (with a sticky note that said ‘Text (y/n) you found it. Reminder #251’). There was still rummaging behind you when you look at him in the reflection of his computer.

When he pulls out a shirt of his that you always compliment him in.

And a pair of exercise shorts that he hadn’t worn yet.

You blush when you realize he wants you to shower in his bathroom.

And then put his clothes on.

“Hit—Hitoshi-san?” You questioningly squeak, squeezing your eyes shut once you hear how cringey it sounded to be calling him by his last name again.

He notices the change, though, blinking softly at you with a shirt in hand. “I—... I just thought you, m-maybe wanted to shower. Cause you’re sweaty and stuff. Plus you might be able to fall asleep better.” He defended himself, putting his hands up.

“N-No, I know, I just...” You face him, avoiding his gaze. “I have to.. um...” You couldn’t do it. You were backing out.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind? I’m here if you need to talk.” He says, trying to catch your eyes as he steps toward you.

“Hito-sssh-hitt. Ugh! Why is it so hard to tell you!?” You curse your tongue for letting you sputter so embarrassingly in front of your best friend. You pace toward Shinsou, but turn back, groaning as you face palm repeatedly.

“You’re acting weird, (Y/N). Since when were you calling me by my last name, you know you can call me pretty much anything else. I swear if you say some dumb shit about another prank I’m gonna—

“Are we just friends or what?” You spat, slapping a hand over your mouth as soon as the words slipped out.

“What?”

The look on his face was so.... precious?

His eyes widened a little, mouth agape with loss, and shoulders cringing a bit at his sudden nerves. You removed your hand slowly but turned it into a fist as quick as it landed at your side.

“Y-You heard me. Are we just friends or, is there m-more... between us..” You trailed off, not noticing how close you’d gotten yourself when he was talking to you.

“More?” He asked, his voice seeming to be hung on to a thin string of hope. He inhales sharply before speaking softly:

“I— I thought... Well, to be honest these last few months with you have been awesome b—

“—But you don’t have feelings for me right?” You interrupted him, looking up into (what felt like to him) his soul.

So it was just you? You started to leave, his hesitation enough of an answer for you.

“No, I- Hey, wait!” He was confused, the poor boy, as to how you took his words. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay, Hitoshi-san.” You say, smiling back at him with a hand on his bedroom door knob.

“S-Seriously! I— Uhm..” He stopped you from opening the door with his hand over yours, pushing the door closed all together when he tripped over a loose shoe and against your body.

You gasp at the sudden fall, but can’t help but worry about him.

“Are you okay?” You ask, helping him stand up straight. “Sorry about the shoe— Mmmph?”

He kissed you so softly, you’d think it was a ghost. His hands cupped around your head, fingers laced through your hair as they almost support your movements. Instinctively you’re kissing him back, letting his body tower over yours and press you harder against the wall. His lips were like soft pillows, and his tongue flicked at your lips, teeth, and tongue so well that you couldn’t help but pull him in closer and closer; the longsleeved sweatshirt he had on was bunching up from your grasps, and you could feel his skin just barely grazing your own. You’re subconsciously tracing designs on his sides with your fingers, slowly running them along the hem as it lifts up when the feeling of heat in your stomach (and face) brings you back to your realitive plain of existence.

You’re currently making out with your best friend.

And you can feel how much he likes it.

“Sh-Shinsou, I—I’m sweaty.” You say, pushing him back a little.

He raises an eyebrow at you. (is that really gonna stop him? shusoskfkdjd)

Then he’s back on your lips, picking your legs off the ground and pulling them around his hips; pressing you back into the wall and grinding himself so deliciously against you. Soft moans escape your lips as his own travel to your neck, hands creeping up your shirt this time. Instead of touching you, however, he only lightly grazes your skin with the lads of his fingers up your torso until hes able to lift your shirt off (with help from you of course). Once it’s off, he’s back at your neck, leaving sloppy kisses before grabbing you by the ass and walking to his bathroom.

He set you down on the sink counter, ridding himself of his shirt and lowering himself down to his knees; His hands at your hips, fingers teasingly looping the elastic waistband of your shorts. He looks up at you with those eyes— The ones that ignite the flame in your core, those piercing, desperate eyes. He’s leaning his head into your thigh as he looks up at you, a smile smirk shows that your reaction to his wherebouts must be entertaining to him. You can feel your core tremble as he lays kisses on your legs, occasionally taking a nice long drag of his tongue along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and stopping at the hem of your shorts. Letting a tiny gasp slip, you place your hands on his to stop him. He looks up at you for a second, but his worries wash away when he sees your hardened nipples and flush skin.

“You look so cute like this.” His voice breaks the tension in the air before he kisses your thighs again. “So flustered and confused.” He bites down gently on your skin, causing you to stifle a moan. He sucks slowly, his teeth just grazing you enough to leave a mark, but not enough to make it hurt. You gasp when his head moves to your centre, the heat of his exhales sending chills up your spine.

“You’re just... so naughty, aren’t you (Y/N)?” He whispers onto the thin cloth before laying his head back down on your leg, pulling your shorts down painfully slow. “You’re absolutely soaked, huh? I can smell you from here.” He looks at you, cueing you to lift your legs up, pulling your shorts off completely before returning to his position between your legs.

“No panties, huh?” He chuckles, scooting you to the edge of the counter by your hips. “You’re so god damn beautiful.” He whispers on your lips, your mouth just slacked enough for him to take advantage of, slipping his tongue straight past your teeth and directly brushing against your tongue. You feel yourself pooling over the counter, soaking against his boxers when he starts to take them off.

“Tell me what you wanna do.” He says against your collarbone, fingers still looped around the edges of his boxers.

“I, I need to sh-shower.” You squeak.

“You’re so fucking cute,” He says after chuckling. “I meant me, kitten, now do you want me or not?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I — I want you, Shinsou. I want all of you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, (Y/N).”

“I’m not, I promise— but, ugh, can you just fuck me already?”

The boldness of your words cracks a shit eating grin you only knew from that class 1-A asshat onto Shinsou’s face.

“Get in the fucking shower then.”

#CLIFFFFF HANGERRRRRR #OOOOOOOOO #PLEASE DONT HATE ME AHSKDKEJSM #I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS #I TRIED SO HARD #AND GOT SO FAR #PLS

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toevenexist · 5 years

Text

Breathe

HELLO, Hello, hello, hi everyone. I am back and writing.

I don’t know where I am or what ship I’m aboard, I just know that I ship Amelia’s happiness so I’ll write her with whoever she is happy with. I will write her with Owen, and I will write her with Link.

This is a combination of two Prompts I received; ‘Hiii! Can you write a fanfic about Amelia falling down the stairs and having broken ribs and Link taking care of her?‘

and a prompt from holynickelclodlamp sent in a DM: https://reallydontfeelgood.tumblr.com/post/187832557040/a-is-sick-with-a-terrible-chest-infection-and

I decided to pair them and alter them slightly so I wasn’t writing two very simiilar fics. I hope thats alright :) It’s taking me a little bit to get back into the swing of writing, so any feedback is appreciated!

An ice cold seemed to pulse through her whole body when it hit. Everything inside her rattled and jarred. Amelia lost all sight of up and down, until she was down. Cool, rain splattered concrete graced her with a muted thud. For a moment, time seemed to suspend, and then, suddenly, there was a rush, in the air around her and the air into her lungs.

Legs clad in blue walled around her, knees bent and she could see faces looming, some familiar.

“Amelia… Amelia…. Look at me” Meredith was angling her face so it was aligned with Amelia’s. Hands were against Amelia’s cheeks, keeping her head steady. “Breathe slowly” Meredith told her said, face half illuminated by the ER lights.

Amelia realised she was gasping, short and shallow. The sky was black above her, rain fell and fled across her face, seeping into her hair. She tried to breathe in deep but felt her throat and chest constrict, something bubbled within one side of her chest and she clawed at her scrub top.

Pain ricocheted and made her hands and feet tingle.

‘What the fuck is happening?’ Amelia thought, squeezing her eyes closed. Her arms were being moved and fingers were pressed against her wrist, her forearm was being squeezed.

She could feel her pulse in her head, tapping against the inners of her eyelids.

Amelia opened her eyes and saw Meredith, crouching beside her, holding her hand. “Okay Amelia, we’re gonna get you on the stretcher” Meredith’s face blurred in and out of focus as she spoke. People crowded around her again then, their arms reaching across and gripping her side. They counted down from three and pain blurred into darkness.

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“Co..cold” Amelia spoke into the white noise of rushing oxygen. A warm hand held hers. “Link...” Amelia squeezed it.

“Amelia…” Owen’s face appeared in front of hers. Amelia winced, a hot tear escaping her eye. “My head, the… strap” Amelia said, hands beginning to shake as her consciousness caught up with the pain. Owen’s eyes opened wider with concern and he reached around her head, knuckles pressing into the pillow as he unclasped the mask. He held the mask against her mouth and nose with his hand, standing beside her. He smiled sadly, running his fingers through the hair at the front of her head.

Amelia closed her eyes, with a shaking hand she reached up, pulling the mask away. “No Amelia, you need that” He said quickly, holding the mask near her face.

Amelia shook her head. “What.. where’s Link? What…” her voice was husky and fragile. Owen frowned, looking down. “Link is on his way, he’s just finishing a surgery” He said, swallowing hard and gritting his teeth. Owen and Amelia had been separated for more than a year.

“What happened?” Amelia said, peering up. Owen pursed his lips, pausing for a moment, before pulling the chair over and perching at its edge. He moved the mask back to her face.

“You were hit by an Ambulance…” he said. Amelia frowned, confused. “The driver had an MI while driving,” He continued.

She pulled the mask away again; “What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re going to be okay, you have a pulmonary contusion, some fluid build up, hypoxia and a few broken ribs.” He placed the mask back over her face and Amelia nodded softly.

“My head..” Amelia spoke into the mask.

“Just a bad knock, it’s okay...”

She let go of Owen’s hand then, replacing his other hand at her mask. He sat back in his chair, gripping his knees. Amelia could feel his presence at her side even as she closed her eyes. The hand she ghosted over her torso was pale, a canula strapped to the back of it. She pushed down the blankets slightly and pressed gently into the flesh of her chest, less than a millimeter, and felt the bruising. She rolled her head to the side and moaned.

“How is Alison, and Teddy?” Amelia said, momentarily lifting the mask, wanting to distract herself from her pain.

Owen cleared his throat, nodding “they’re good, great… Teddy finishes her leave in a few weeks.”

Amelia hummed in response, her eyelids feeling heavy. She peered over to the window, the wind had the rain speeding in diagonal channels, sparkling with fractured light.

“Alison, looks just like Teddy...” Owen said, smiling softly, sadly, clasping his hands together.

The door slammed against the wall then, swinging open to reveal Link. He didn’t even stop to notice Owen.

“Amelia, Amelia honey” He said, rushing to Amelia’s side, cupping her face between his hands, taking her in. Amelia took in a short breath, lips curling. Link bent at the waist, kissing her forehead. Amelia cried with restraint and clawed at his arms wanting him to hold her. He sat down at her hip, and leant forward. “It’s alright, you’re alright…”

“I… um I’ll” Owen cleared his throat as he stood. Link looked up, suddenly aware of Owen in the room.

“I’ll leave you two… feel better soon” Owen said, glancing back down at Amelia, smiling tightly. Amelia nodded. “Thank you…” Link began, “for being with her.”

Owen simply smiled wider, though the smile faltered quickly, and he backed away, turned and left.

Amelia pulled her mask away, “I got hit by…” Link nodded, pushing the mask back.

“It’s okay, Meredith told me,” He said, brushing the pads of his thumbs against her cheeks, wiping away the sheen of tears. “It hurts…” Amelia wept, closing her eyes., “it really…” she huffed, “hurts.”

Link swallowed, slowly nodding. “I know, I know…” He smiled sadly, eyes heavy and blue. He lifted the mask, pressing his lips to hers, and again to the corner of her mouth, and to her cheek. Link held her head, hands either side of her face, and pressed his cheek to hers.

Amelia calmed, holding her breath for a moment, closing her eyes. Their cheeks were tacky with Amelia’s tears, and warm, compressed.

“Okay…” Link whispered, a question and a statement. Amelia hummed, feeling her pain lull slightly. Link pulled back a little, slowly placing the mask over Amelia’s mouth again, “Breathe out slow, bit by bit” he said, holding the mask, “It’s alright, I’ll hold it, just put your arms down…” he said, voice soft and melodic. “Relax” he traced her hairline with his fingertips, across her forehead and down around her ear. “Try and sleep, I’ll be here…” He said, tracing her collar bone. Her eyes drooped shut, her shoulders sinking as her waking tension left her.

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Amelia didn’t wake again till morning. Link had sat on her bed, holding the mask against her for some time. A nurse came in and helped him to get comfortable in a chair beside her.

He hadn’t slept very much, only ten or so minutes at a time. He’d stir when Amelia did, easing her back into deep sleep each time, with a gentle touch against her cheek, fingertips tracing patterns on her skin.

Early in the morning an unfamiliar doctor entered, with an intern at his side. They both smiled, “Hello, I’m Doctor Hopton, I’ll be assessing Miss Shepherd today, this is my intern Doctor Finley”

“Dr Shepherd…” Link said softly, Amelia continued to sleep. The doctor looked momentarily flustered, quickly looking at his notes, “Yes of course”

“We’ll need to wake her up”

Link nodded, looking down at Amelia. “Amelia… Amelia, wake up” Amelia roused easily and frowned with discomfort.

“Hello Dr shepherd, I’m just going to have a listen to your chest. See if we still need to be using the oxygen.” Amelia nodded, embracing the quiet of the room as the machine was switched off.

She fought her instinct to flinch as the doctor pressed the diaphragm of the stethoscope to her side. “And deep breath in… and out, and in… and out” He said, moving the instrument. Amelia bit her lip hard, squeezing Link’s hand with every painful breath.

“Alright now, if we can get you sitting up?” The doctor said, draping his stethoscope around his neck. Amelia nodded and grit her teeth, holding onto the bed rail with one hand and onto Link with the other. Link helped her, pressing a hand to the back of her neck. She groaned loudly, eyes watering, she felt sick and faint, consumed by the pain of her ribs.

Link felt weak at the sight of the bruising that curled around Amelia’s torso, purple and black and blue as a galaxy. He watched as the stethoscope diaphragm was pressed against it and winced when she did.

“Alright, we’ll keep you sitting up” the doctor said, pressing a button to raise the head of the bed.

“Your breath sounds are almost normal, we’ll just check your...Oxygen levels…. and” both doctors observed the stats and nodded, “Almost normal, miles better than last night. I want to get a chest Xray this morning, but I suspect you’ll be good to go home late afternoon, now it will take some time for your ribs to heal, you’ve got about three fractures, two complete ones, you’ll need lots of rest.”

Amelia nodded, uttering “okay”, wanting nothing more than for this doctor to leave so she could do just that, rest. He smiled, sensing this, “I’ll get that Xray booked just now, okay” he said, nodding and looking to his intern, before leaving the room.

Amelia, groaned, slumping her head back. “I’m so tired.”

“Understandably so… you’ll be home soon” Link said, holding her hand in his, running his other, up and down her arm. The morning sun started to pour through the window, yellowy light folding around the pair.

“You’ve achieved an impressive bruise by the way, almost artistic” Link said, sitting down on the bed. Amelia crossed her legs and smiled tiredly.

“Yeah?” Amelia said.

“Yeah, I’m impressed, I don’t think you could do ugly if you tried” Link quipped, holding one of her hands in both of his. Amelia rolled her eyes halfheartedly, smiling. “Not funny, I look like crap…” she said, feeling her hair, it was askew and matted with blood and rain.

“Need a hug?” Link said, head lolling towards his shoulder. Amelia breathed painfully and nodded, sucking in her bottom lip. Link shifted into the center of the bed, in front of her crossed legs and helped her to transfer her weight from the head of the bed, onto him, into his arms, against his chest.

He held her gently and carefully, revelling in the feeling of her weight. She wrapped her arms around him loosely and tucked her head beneath his chin, breathing softly so it didn’t hurt. The glow of the morning sun curled into the curve of Amelia’s exposed back and warmed her skin, she sighed softly, a short unlaboured sigh, sinking further in their embrace. “You’ll be okay soon” Link whispered, closing his eyes, finally allowing relief to wash over him.

Thanks for reading, all feedback is appreciated xxx

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strange-n-unbluusual · 4 years

Text

Pink! Ch. 3: The Ex Lover

*Beetlejuice/Original Female Character. Adult situations. 18+ only.*

Summary: After six breather years away, Beetlejuice returns to find the house on the hill overrun by coeds. Lydia allows him to stay, but has rules. Things get more interesting when Beck, one of the housemates, reveals she can see him. Following a sordid affair, Beetlejuice finds himself lingering around Beck more and more. But will her affection last? And why does it seem to bother Lydia so much?

Chapter 1: The Setup

Chapter 2: The Buzzkill Date

DMs are always open for thoughts, feedback and suggestions. Ty. On AO3 as CopperContessa_13

The Maitlands sequestered themselves inside the house’s old root cellar.

Despite their work to make it livable, the windowless room was still not ideal. Two cots, a small stack of books and an oil lamp were really all they could fit in the space. Of course, it wasn’t meant to be “home” forever. It was just supposed to be for as long as it took to convince Lydia to get rid of Beetlejuice.

They hoped she would come to her senses in days but, by now, they had lost track of how many months they’d been down there.

Lydia tried so hard to make them understand her decision, but it was all in vain. Apparently Beetlejuice had come back to her one night with a sob story and it worked. She made him leave for a few hours while she reasoned with the Maitlands. They weren’t as relenting, however.

“He’s manipulative?” Lydia argued. “Don’t you think it’s just as manipulative to leave me because… because I can forgive the past and you can’t?! You promised you’d never abandon me!”

Adam stayed quiet, but Barbara had reasoned back.

“The scars are lasting for the rest of us, Lydia,” she said calmly. “We thought it’d be the worst for you! The marriage and the death threats against your family? You can really forgive all of that?”

“Summoning is out of the question. I told him that. He can’t hurt us if he’s not summoned. And I’ve read the handbook all the way through now! I know how to get rid of him if we need to.”

“Because the last time you read something from it went really well,” Adam said quietly.

Barbara’s eyes dropped to the floor and Lydia paled.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

“Adam and I love you very much, Lydia,” Barbara said, reaching out a hand to reassuringly squeeze the girl’s arm. “We won’t ever abandon you, but this is just asking too much of us. We’ll be back when you come to your senses.”

And that was that.

She was a capable and educated young woman, they agreed. The Maitlands couldn’t blame her choices on adolescent idealism anymore. She was being selfish and dangerously shortsighted by inviting him back into the home. Plus, it wasn’t just the Deetzes and the Maitlands in danger this time, either. Lydia’s five defenseless housemates didn’t know what she had signed them up for.

They kept their word. Adam and Barbara never abandoned Lydia. They made sure to keep an eye on Beetlejuice, but maintained their distance by hiding behind furniture or carefully peering just their eyes through walls. It wasn’t a flawless endeavor, of course. In fact, one of the housemates, Beck, realized she could see ghosts after catching Barbara leaning through her bedroom wall to look into the next room.

From what Adam and Barbara had seen, they still weren’t satisfied with Beetlejuice’s behavior but knew it could be worse. They hated how he’d steal from the housemates and shamelessly watch them during private and intimate moments. It seemed tame compared to his usual antics, though. At least, nothing was alarming enough to break their vow of silence. In fact, they started to wonder if Lydia was right about him being changed.

That is, until that party happened.

Those big house parties were the easiest time to keep an eye on Beetlejuice. The amount of people in the house made it easy to sneak around in the open without raising suspicion.

Barbara was watching Beetlejuice sit on the kitchen counter but got distracted when she noticed a particularly violent make out session in the next room threatened to knock over one of Delia’s giant sculptures. He wasn’t on the counter anymore when she came back. Adam didn’t see him slip away either.

They searched the whole ground floor but there was no sign of him. That was particularly odd, considering he typically spent each party ogling people and standing uncomfortably close to them while they danced. They even checked the second floor, but they only came across Beck changing out of her party getup. She never seemed to notice Beetlejuice’s antics. Why ask her about him now?

The Maitlands hung around the crowd of young people for another 45 minutes or so, but the ghost with the most didn’t make a reappearance. He did look pretty bored that night, Barbara pointed out. Maybe he finally decided to leave.

"I’m gonna check the attic,” Adam said. “If he’s really gone, he would have taken his mess up there with him.”

He returned a few minutes later, his face twisted in an unpleasant expression.

“Is everything okay, dear? Was he up there? Did he touch you??” Barbara asked with growing concern. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go alone!“

"It’s not that, Barbara,” Adam said quietly. “I, uh. I don’t know how to say this but… Beck definitely knows about Beetlejuice.”

⁂

“I’ll give you ten seconds to explain why I shouldn’t exorcise your ass right now,” Lydia seethed.

When she confronted Beetlejuice, her long hair was frizzy, her face was bare and she was still in her favorite nightgown. The Maitlands had waited until morning to break the news to Lydia, not wanting to spoil the night for her. At first, she was overjoyed when she awoke to the gentle sound of their voices. She sprang out of bed and hugged them both tightly. Her demeanor dropped quickly, though, when Barbara finally broke the news.

Lydia was about to confront Beck when she passed by the guest bathroom. The door was closed, but she could clearly hear the sound of Beetlejuice moaning her housemate’s name through the wood.

“Did they really have the audacity to do this next to my room?!” she thought.

More enraged and disgusted now, she ran back to her room to grab something before confronting them.

In front of him, Beetlejuice saw that she was clutching The Handbook for the Recently Deceased in a white knuckled grip.

She’s serious, he realized with terror.

He gulped loudly and looked at her with wide eyes. Beetlejuice scrambled to get up and even clattered to the tile floor once in his panic. Settling to beg on his knees, he pleaded incoherently at her. He was more terrified than she had ever seen, his hair just a shock of pure white.

Lydia didn’t listen to any of what he was trying to say, instead focusing her attention on scrutinizing every detail in the bathroom with her eyes. She scanned the clawfoot tub, behind the toilet and behind the door. The cabinet below the sink was too small to fit a person. Though he’d been moaning her name, Beck was nowhere in sight.

Beetlejuice’s babbling slowed to a more manageable speed when he noticed Lydia’s posture ease.

“That shady ‘Blood’ guy promised me it wasn’t cursed or anything, Lyds! I swear! I mean, if I can’t trust him, who can I? Plus, Beck was the one who pulled out the vib—“

“Shut up! Shut up! Just stop talking!” Lydia finally snapped.

Beetlejuice obeyed.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes tightly. A small, wavering sigh was followed by a deep breath in. When she released the breath she opened her eyes, too. He noticed that they watered, but he wasn’t about to ask why, precisely, she looked like she was about to cry. Beetlejuice didn’t dare provoke her more while she still had that book.

“Adam told me he saw you with Beck last night,” Lydia said sternly. “Is it true?”

“Lydia,” he pleaded. “She was the one who—“

She raised her hand.

“Save it. I don’t want to hear about it. I asked a question. Yes or no.”

He shrunk back into the corner.

“... Maybe a little bit.”

Beetlejuice shut his eyes tightly and he wrapped his arms over his head protectively as if that would save him from being banished. Seconds passed and no incantation was read to him, though.

He watched the hem of her nightgown flit away when he finally reopened his eyes. She was walking down the hallway as if nothing had just happened.

“Lydia?” Beetlejuice called after her. “Are you mad at me?”

“This isn’t about you,” she said.

⁂

Beck’s bedroom was at the end of a short hallway that branched off from the rest of the second floor. The door was open and Lydia approached it just in time to catch a flash of skin as Beck pulled a lilac sports bra over herself.

Lydia suspected Beck had planned for her to see that.

She rolled her eyes at the thought and crossed her arms, shifting her weight so she was leaning on the doorway. The creak of the frame caught Beck’s attention. She looked over and gave a small smile.

"Hey, stranger. Did you just get up?”

“Yeah.”

"I’m just about to go on a jog. You want to come?”

“Why?” Lydia sneered while sauntering into the room casually. “I heard you got a workout last night.”

Beck’s eyes darted to Lydia for a second. She tied her blonde hair into a ponytail and walked over to the bedside table to grab a waiting pair of headphones.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lyd.”

The other girl’s demeanor darkened.

“I just noticed you left the party early night,” she tried to say as nonchalantly as possible. “Were you… entertaining someone upstairs?”

“That’s a pretty personal question,” she chuckled.

A surprised noise came out of Beck when Lydia suddenly slammed The Handbook for the Recently Deceased down on the nearby dresser.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Bexley,” Lydia choked out, pointing a finger back at her.

“What is your deal?!” Beck said.

Her expression softened a bit when she saw a tear roll down Lydia’s cheek.

“Even Beetlejuice had the balls to own up to it. The literal demon from hell owned up to the fact that you two fucked, but you won’t.”

Beck averted her eyes and crossed her arms.

“We didn’t fuck.”

“You’re such an unholy bitch, Bexley!” she said venomously.

“You have some real nerve saying that,” Beck growled back. “I don’t care what he said, we never fucked.”

“That’s not what matters! You still messed around with this guy I told you not to!”

“I don’t get your deal, Lydia. Okay, yeah, it’s kinda weird that I’m hot for a dusty, green ghost. But I don’t get what your problem with it is.”

“My problem is I told you not to.”

“Yeah? Well, I told you to stop making such a scene when you bring Mariah over and I still have to listen to you fake it.”

“This isn’t some kind of lover’s quirrell,” Lydia said, frustrated. “Did you know that asshole forced me into a marriage and threatened to kill my family if I didn’t do it? Is that good enough reason for me to be mad?”

Beck looked at her in shocked disbelief.

“Well I never would have started anything if you’d told me that! You can’t hold it against me if I didn’t fucking know!!”

Both stood in silence for awhile. Lydia paced the floor in front of the dresser. Beck ran an exasperated hand down her face and sighed.

Like oil and water. How they even ended up with each other in the first place was a mystery.

They knew each other from class but formally met at a too-crowded garage band concert in someone's basement. Everyone was surprised that they lasted as long as they did. Everyone knew it was a bad idea for them to sign a lease together.

Beck was like a black sheep among black sheep in Lydia’s social circle. Everyone else in the house dripped with the aesthetics of old arthouse films and hand rolled clove cigarettes. Despite sharing a major with some of them, Beck never really found common ground with them outside of knowing Lydia. She was just too preppy for their taste.

Lydia was petite, dressed in flowing garments and preferred to spend her Saturdays alone in thrifted bookstores. Beck was proud to be plus-sized, rocked whatever was at the local department store like no one's business and fed off of the energy of other people.

Opposites attract then repel, so the saying goes.

“Okay. Yeah. I did it to piss you off and make you jealous,” Beck finally said. “But…”

“But what?!”

“But can it really be that bad if you let him come back?! And don’t get testy with me!” she screeched. “You want to talk about hurting people? Do you remember who cheated on who?!”

“Beck, listen...“ Lydia sighed, averting her gaze.

Beck raked a hand through her hair.

“You told me not to think too much about how much time you were spending with Mariah and that your classes kept you from answering your phone as much. Did you think you were just going to ghost me out of our own relationship? Lydia, I live here with you!”

The demure girl was quiet.

“And when I caught you kissing her, I accepted it. I fucking accepted it. I told myself that it’s natural for people to change and grow apart. I forgave your gaslighting and said we could still be friends. But fucking hell, Lyd! You’re not playing fair!”

Lydia averted her stare, leaning against the dresser with crossed arms.

“Well?”

“...I guess we’re even then,” Lydia muttered.

They studied each other intensely for a minute. Breaking the gaze, Lydia finally grabbed her book and started towards the doorway.

“Hey, you don’t want your vibrator back, do you?”

“No, Beck. I don’t… that’s… that’d be weird. No,” she said with an awkward half-laugh.

Beck closed the door behind her ex-girlfriend and sighed. No longer in the mood to go outside, she walked over to her closet to find something more befitting for a bad break up. Like an old shirt and a pint of Chunky Monkey...

“Hey, babes,” Beetlejuice said when she opened the door.

“Geezus!” she gasped, clutching her chest, “doesn’t anyone fucking knock around here?!”

“I walk around like I own the place, babes. You know that by now,” he said stepping out into the room.

Beck rolled her eyes at him.

"I didn’t tell her we fucked, by the way. She caught me in the bathroom and… anyway, it’s not important. Did you really used to date her?”

“Yeah. Why? You don’t think it’s weird, do you?”

“Oh, of course not! A hole is a hole, babe.”

“Yeah…”

“I’m just, uh, surprised I never noticed you had a thing for girls. If you know what I mean.”

“I broke up with Lydia, like, a week before you showed up,” she shrugged. “It hurt a lot. Watching her date the girl she literally cheated on me with kills me. But, like. Why is she the only one allowed to do shitty things?”

She felt a little bad about those words as soon as they left her mouth. Beetlejuice’s expression dropped, his hair turning purple in spots. He fidgeted with his suit jacket for a second before looking up at her.

“So, I’m just cannon fodder to make Lydia jealous?”

The way he said those words broke her heart.

For someone who hung around her room almost exclusively to watch her undress, Beetlejuice had proven himself to be rather dynamic. Between the dream about the speakeasy, the way he backed off of her when he thought she’d drank too much and his genuine worry about what it all meant to her, he really had proven to be more human than demon in her eyes.

Instinctively, she reached out and pulled him into a protective hug. She rest his head on her chest and pet his hair comfortingly. She was a little bemused that his hair matched her sports bra.

“I can’t lie. You kinda are,” she answered honestly. “Is that okay?”

She gasped as his sharp fingernails dug into her hips. His hair shifted into a blaze of pure magenta. When he adjusted his head to look up, Beck was both terrified and thrilled at the way he looked at her with hunger. A devilish grin was spread on his face from ear to ear.

“It’s more than okay, babes. It’s showtime.”

#musical beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice fandom #drama #exes #writing #betelgeuse #fanfiction #fluff #dramatic #adult language #bisexual character #beetlejuice nsft #nsft

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golbrocklovely · 5 years

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twisted // colby brock - chapter three

A/N: so fun fact, i actually wrote out a shit ton of chapters for this story last night, so i may start posting weekly. however, until i’m certain, i will still be posting this story every other week. if you want me to post more often, let me know and maybe i will. that being said, lmk what you think of the story so far. also if you want to be added to the taglist, hmu. alrighty, here’s the next chapter :)

description of the story

taglist: @absolute-randomness-forever , @far-to-many-bands

trigger warning: ghost hunting, cursing

word count: 3375

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

The Angel’s wings grew wider, hiding the child from the darkness oozing monster. The monster smiled menacingly at the Angel, showing all its razor-sharp teeth.

“Your power has no hold on me. I destroy everything I touch, and soon… I will destroy you. And the little bastard too!” The monster screeched, its demonic voice being the only thing the child could hear.

The child backed away, clutching onto the Angel’s wing. Hot tears ran down the baby boy’s face. His clammy hands could feel the Angel’s wing pull away. The Angel turned towards the child, its bright aura blinding the darkness leaking from the monster.

“Listen, child. I will protect you. You are safe with me, and God. I need to you pray. Pray until I tell you to stop.” The Angel’s voice spoke, but it’s lips never moved. The child stared up at the angelic face, nodding slowly.

The Angel turned around, a sword now it’s hand. It smiled at the monster, who shook its head in fear. The monster changed its face, now smirking.

“Fight me.” The monster growled.

“Angel? Angel, are you down here?” A familiar voice yelled out.

I turned my head towards the noise, finally glancing away from the book in my hands. I hadn’t put this book down since I started, and it had been hours.

I stood up from the couch just as Colby walked into the library. “Hey.”

“Hey. Did you guys just get back?” I asked.

He nodded his head. “Yeah. We explored the whole town. We found old abandoned factory and did an impromptu XPLR video.”

I smiled. “That’s awesome.”

“What’ve you been doing all day?” He glanced around the room, looking at all the books.

“I’ve been so engrossed by this book all day.” I stated, handing the book over to him. “It’s such an interesting novel. Smitty wrote it.”

“He did? That’s cool.” He said.

“Oh by the way, when are we filming the exploring video for this house?” I questioned.

He placed the book down and started walking out of the library and into the lobby. I followed suit. “Tonight.”

I raised my eyebrows and pursed my lips. “Shit. I thought we were staying longer?”

“No. I mean, if we need to stay longer we will. But I’d rather we didn’t.” He spoke, his face slightly twisted.

“Why?”

“Because I-”

“Hey kids! Why don’t you come help me make dinner tonight?” Deb said, walking into the house with bags in her hands.

I cocked my head to the side. “Deb? What are you doing here?”

She smiled. “Well I figured I would make some food for the visitors since they were so nice at the diner today.”

“Oh, thank you. That’s so nice.” Sam replied, coming down the steps and grabbing a bag from her hands.

“It’s no problem. I have nothing better to do except go home and watch Jeopardy.” Deb laughed, placing the bags down on the kitchen counter.

“What are we having?” I asked, trying to look in the bags.

“My famous stew. I’m gonna make enough to last until you leave. I know Smitty here likes it so much.” She nudged me slightly, smirking.

Smitty’s voice came from behind me. “It is the best stew I’ve ever had.”

I turned to him. “Oh, by the way Smitty, I wanted to let you know I’m close to finishing your book.”

“Well that’s great. What do you think?” He questioned, pulling vegetables from the bags.

I smiled softly. “I think it’s really good. The story is so interesting. Where did you ever come up with an idea like that?”

“Um… I guess it’s just something that popped into my head.” He shrugged, his back to me.

“That’s crazy. I really love it.” I beamed.

“What’s the story about?” Sam inquired.

“Well, there’s an angel and it’s fighting this demon and-“

Smitty cut me off, chuckling. “And you will have to read it for yourself.”

“Excuse me…” Colby mumbled, leaving the kitchen quickly.

I cocked my head at Colby as he left. He didn’t notice me looking at him. Sam, Deb, and Smitty were going on about the stew, so I slid out of the kitchen and followed Colby to his room. His door opened, I walked inside to see him ruffling through his bag.

Colby glanced over at me. I lightly put my hand on his arm. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah. Smitty.” He grunted.

I stepped back. “What?”

“I don’t… trust him.” He sighed, his hands sliding out of his bag and crossing in front of him.

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I just have this feeling that this is all a set up.” He shrugged, his arms falling to his side.

I scrunched my face up. “What do you mean by a set up?”

“What if he faked this house being haunted? I mean, yeah, it’s creepy looking. But it’s also old so it’s gonna look creepy.” Colby’s voice was hushed, his eyes noticing the door being opened.

“Didn’t his niece say that this house was on Ghost Hunters or something?” I remembered, sitting down on the bed.

“I’ve tried to find her dms to me, and I can’t find them at all. I know she also dmed Sam and our duo insta, and yet, her dms are gone.” He explained, his hands flailing slightly.

“It’s like she never existed…” I muttered, my body feeling uneasy.

He pointed, sitting down next to me. “Exactly. It’s just weird. And I don’t like it here. I feel like everywhere I go I’m being watched. That’s why I just wanna do our video and leave asap.”

“I getchu.” I leaned over and placed my hand on his back, “But you might be overacting a bit.”

He scoffed. “Shut up.”

I smirked, throwing my leg over him and hugging his arm. “I’ll make sure to protect you.”

“Oh really? Have you seen how you are during our scary videos? You’re clutching me like your life depends on it.” He pushed me off him softly.

“Maybe I’m just acting.” I teased.

“You say that now… but just wait until tonight. I don’t want to hear you say you need someone to cuddle with. I’ll be sound asleep.” He slid his arms behind his head and laid down, smirking at me.

I leaned over, my body pressed against his. “In this heart shaped bed… next to Sam.”

“His cuddles are better than yours.” He whispered.

I gasped and laughed at him, smacking him in the chest. He grabbed me and pulled me closer, laughing with me. I buried my face into his neck, the both of us embracing. I pulled back and looked down at him. I suddenly realized how close our faces were to each other’s. My heart rate accelerated, face flushing instantly.

Colby’s eyes landed on mine and I couldn’t look away. His eyes were intensely blue, staring deep into me. I felt myself drawing closer to him. His hand pressed lightly against my cheek.

“Hey kids! Dinner’s ready!” Smitty yelled from downstairs.

I flung myself off Colby breathlessly. Colby mumbled under his breath as he stood up. He sighed, looking back at me.

He placed his hand out for me, “Let’s go eat.”

~ / / ~

“Hey what’s you guys it’s Sam and Colby! And today we are here with our lovely friend Angel.” Colby exclaimed, pointing at me.

“Hey guys.” I waved, smiling.

“Now today we are not an abandoned place, for once. We actually are at a creepy hotel, bed-and-breakfast, all the way up in Washington.” Sam explained.

“Yeah so this place was told to us by a fan, which hey, shout out to you for telling us about here because wow… it is creepy.” Colby chimed in.

Sam nodded his head, turning back to the camera. “What’s fun about this place is that we have the whole building to ourselves. And apparently this place has been on Ghost Hunters and it is named one the scariest places in all of Washington so we are really lucky to be here tonight.”

“Before we start, Angel, how are you feeling right now?” Colby asked, smirking at me.

I rolled my eyes at him. “As per usual, I’m a little creeped out. But I’m hopeful about this place. You guys also forgot to mention that we are literally staying here too while also exploring it.”

Sam gasped, smiling. “That’s right! We are literally booked at this bed-and-breakfast. So, if anything goes wrong tonight…”

“We’ll be sleeping the car.” I stated, giving a thumbs up to the camera.

“Alright, onto the investigation.” Sam said, placing his hand over the camera and shutting it off.

“What exactly are we doing tonight?” I inquired, crossing my arms as we walked onto the porch.

“Well, we want to do the Ouija board and then maybe explore the other bedrooms in the house to see if there’s anything.” Sam shrugged, holding the camera in one hand.

I cocked my head to the side. “I thought you guys said you were done with that board.”

“There’s not much else we can do to summon spirits if there isn’t anything here.” Sam answered, as Colby nodded his head.

My arms crossed tighter against me. “I don’t know… I don’t like you guys playing with that thing.”

“Aren’t you going to playing with us?” Colby questioned.

“I don’t really want to.” I admitted.

“Please Angel. Honestly, you’re like a ghost magnet. We always get the best stuff when we’re with you.”

“You’re just saying that to make me play the Ouija board.”

“No, I mean it. It would mean a lot if you could do this for us. …For me. And if you get uncomfortable, you can stop and go explore the other rooms while me and Sam and keep playing.” Colby replied, placing his hand lightly on my shoulder.

I sighed. “…Alright.”

Colby nodded his head at me as we stepped into the house once again. Walking to the living room, an Ouija board was already set up, along with two candles and a tripod. Sam slowly placed the camera on the tripod as Colby sat down in the middle seat and lit the candles.

Why did I agree to this?

I scooted the chair back that was next to Colby and sat down. He smiled lightly at me as Sam turned to us.

Sam glanced at the both of us. “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I mumbled.

Colby smiled as Sam turned the camera on and sat down in the chair on the other side of Colby.

“Alright guys, we are here in the dining room of this place and we are about to contact some spirits. Now I know we said we wouldn’t be using this board ever again, but we believe that this is the best place to use it one last time.” Sam informed, talking to our invisible audience.

“This is as much of a shock to you guys as it is to me.” I chimed in.

Colby chuckled. “Okay. Let’s begin.”

We all lightly placed our finger on the planchette and spun it around in three circles on the board. My heart raced with each completed circle.

“Is there any spirit here that would like to talk to us?” Sam called out, looking around the room.

A moment of silence fell over the house. I closed my eyes, trying to control my breathing. My nerves were already getting the best of me and we had only just begun.

Suddenly, the planchette started moving up the left side of the board, slowly stopping on ‘Yes’.

My eyes widen. “Which one of you did that?”

“It wasn’t me.” Sam responded.

Colby shook his head. “I didn’t do that.”

I exhaled, my voice coming out higher than before. “Holy shit, I already hate this.”

“Uh, okay. To the spirit that is here, did you die in this house?” Colby’s eyes roamed around the room.

I could feel the planchette move away slightly, only to go back to ‘Yes’.

Colby’s brow furrowed. “Do you think Smitty knows about that?”

“Maybe…” Sam considered.

The hair on the back of my neck rose. I quickly glanced around the room, feeling something near me.

“Fuck, I have the chills right now.” I shook my body lightly.

“Wait what?” Colby turned his head to me.

“I feel like someone is here. Like right next to me.” I stated, looking into his eyes.

Sam stared at me. “Are you for real?”

“Yes. I’m not lying,” I continued, sighing nervously. “Oh fuck, I hate this.”

“Um… what’s your name?” Colby turned his attention back to the board.

Slowly, the planchette moved down the board. Under the circle was the letter ‘A’. The planchette did not continue.

“A? Just A?” Sam muttered.

“Maybe it was a nickname.” Colby replied.

“Maybe it doesn’t want to tell us.”

“Do you think it’s still here?”

I nodded my head. “Yeah.”

Colby looked at me. “Is it a good spirit?”

The planchette quickly moved back up to ‘Yes’.

Sam pursed his lips. “Well, that’s a first for us. We’re too used to dealing with demons.”

I sighed, my anxiety being only slightly reduced by the confirmation.

I felt a question jump into my mind, and it leaked from my lips before I could realize what I was asking.

“Are we in danger?” I chimed in.

The planchette didn’t move this time.

My breath hitched in my throat as a chill ran up my spine. I felt my head turn toward the lobby. Suddenly, a booming slam came from that direction.

Sam and Colby jumped up, letting go of the planchette in the process. Sam grabbed the camera as Colby shined a light into the lobby.

“Hello?!” Sam yelled.

“Is anyone here?!” Colby exclaimed.

I glimpsed around the room and got up from my seat, following Sam and Colby into the lobby.

“What the fuck was that?” Colby snapped, pacing around the room.

“Where was it even coming from?” Sam uttered breathlessly.

“It sounded like it was right here.” Colby pointed to the floor.

Sam turned the camera to the both of them. “Was it upstairs or downstairs?”

“I don’t think we even have a key to downstairs.” Colby responded.

“Let’s go up then.” Sam nodded quickly.

“Wait. We never said goodbye.” I blurted out, drawing their attention to me.

“Right... Let’s just go say goodbye and then head upstairs.” Sam stated behind the camera.

We all rushed into the dining room. I abruptly stopped as I saw the board. A gasp escaped my mouth.

The planchette rested lightly over the ‘Goodbye’.

Colby walked slowly towards the board. “Angel, did you do that?”

“No. No I didn’t.” I denied, shaking my head.

“Are you sure? What was the last thing the planchette was on?” Sam queried.

“It was on ‘Yes’ and then the noise happened.” Colby recalled.

Sam sighed. “How did it move to goodbye?”

“I don’t know.” I fretted.

“What does that even mean? Can a spirit even say goodbye without us-” Colby began, only to be cut off by the opening of the front door.

We all stopped moving, only to hear the door close loudly. We all rushed into the lobby only to be met by Smitty.

“Woah, guys. Sorry to bust in during your investigation.” Smitty smiled, sticking his hands up in the air.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Sam grunted.

“No, I was in town. I figured you guys would be done by now.” Smitty assured.

“So, you haven’t been here at all?” Colby inquired.

“Nope. I was at Deb’s,” Smitty admitted, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Why? Did something happen?”

Sam slowly turned the camera off, mumbling. “We might have caught something.”

“Well I would love to see the footage. Or do I have to wait like the rest of the fans?” Smitty chuckled, going behind the front desk.

Colby sighed, annoyance resting on his face. “I’m gonna go clean up the dining room. Why don’t we call it a night?”

Sam and I nodded, heading upstairs slowly.

“Goodnight.” Smitty called over his shoulder.

~ / / ~

I could see myself laying in my bed. My body faced the ceiling, my arms laid across my chest. My hair was splayed out against my pillows. I looked peaceful, my breath very low in my lungs.

The room had only one form of light, the post from outside shined through the bay window, cascading a dull white gleam. Suddenly a figure was in my room. He stood in the corner, watching me. Watching my body sleep. His breaths were fast; I could almost hear his heart pounding. He stepped closer to my bed.

I tried to call out to myself to wake up, but my body does not move. My voice never leaves my throat.

I rushed over to my body, only to be pulled against the wall by a chain. I was too far away to stop the man. He was stepping closer and closer. He was inches away from my face. His hands slowly reached out to touch. I screamed as loud as I could, not a whisper leaving my mouth.

The light in my room brightened. The man covered his face quickly, throwing him back against the wall next to me.

An Angel appeared within the light. She hovered over to the man, grasping his wrist and uncovering his face. She turned his face to me.

His striking green eyes pierced through me as he yelled out in agony.

I jumped awake, my heart pounding against my rib cage. I coughed, feeling as if I couldn’t catch my breath. I gripped the lamp beside me and turned it on hastily. My eyes scanned the room for the figure. My paranoia subsided as I saw nothing in my room. I laid my head back down, taking deep breaths. My clammy hand grabbed my phone, pulling it to my face.

3:02 AM

I sighed. I unlocked my phone and scrolled to a certain contact. I bit my lip, glancing away from my screen.

I guess I’m really doing this…

Angel: hey are you awake ??

I laid there for a minute, waiting for a response. I sat up slightly as I heard my phone buzz.

Colby: yeah whats up

Angel: I need you over here rn

Was that too needy?

I groaned quietly to myself. I looked down, seeing a ‘Seen’ under my message. Heat rushed to my face, realizing my mistake.

He’s not gonna come ov-

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. I got out of bed and went to my door, opening it slightly.

“You rang?” Colby smiled slyly.

I opened my door more, allowing him in. I locked my door quickly, placing my back against it.

Colby’s faced changed suddenly. “Is everything okay?”

“I had a nightmare.” I admitted.

“What happened in it?” Colby asked.

“I could see myself laying in bed and I saw someone standing in my room. He tried to… do something to me, I guess. I’m not really sure what he wanted,” I answered, shuffling over to Colby as he sat down on my bed. “Then an angel came and rescued me.”

“That sounds intense.” He muttered.

“All of this creepy house stuff has gotten me freaked out, I think.” I remarked, crossing my arms tightly.

He inquired. “Did you know who the guy was?”

“Uh… no. Not really. I didn’t get to see his face.” I stated, glancing away from him.

Colby gently grabbed one of my wrists, uncrossing my arms. He slid his hand into mine. “How about I stay over?”

“You’re not gonna make fun of me?” I taunted.

He shook his head. “Nope. Not tonight.”

I smiled lightly as he pulled me into bed. I climbed in, placing my back against his chest. He pushed himself closer to me, wrapping his arm around me snugly. I pulled the blanket over us, feeling his breath hit the back of my neck softly.

After a moment of rest, he muttered gently against my neck. “We’re leaving first thing Sunday.”

I sighed and nodded my head “Okay…”

With his warmth around me, I was finally able to let my body relax.

<< CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 4 >>

#Sam and Colby #colby brock #colby brock smut #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fluff #colby brock story #colby brock x oc #sam golbach #colby brock angst #colby brock fic #twisted

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 5 years

Text

A love that never leaves (8)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. A brief flash of sexy times and angsty intrigue.

A/N: Several people messaged reminding me that adding links kill searches (Tumblr is utterly ridiculous), so I’ve taken those out. If you want to access the full ALTNL Masterlist, just click the MASTERLIST header on my blog.

That last chapter murdered my heart, I hope it destroyed all of you as well! This week, Bucky gets cockblocked and the mysterious circumstances that brought him back to her take a strange turn.

Tags are open, if you want on the list please send me a DM or ASK, it’s easier for me to track. Otherwise you can find the new updates each weekend!

Previously...

The poets say when your heart breaks, the world will grind to a halt.

The poets are wrong, she thinks.

When your heart breaks, the world will in fact keep moving. The stars will still shine, the sun will still rise. You will go on living, despite having nothing to live for. The world doesn’t stop for trivial things like grief. It lumbers on, drags you forward kicking and screaming, forcing you to keep breathing, until you’re nothing more than a ghost of who you were.

*****

MISSION REPORT

SECOND ATTEMPT AT CONTACT ESTABLISHED. AWAITING RESULTS.

He thinks to himself.

What will he do when he sees the whites of her eyes?

He grinds his teeth, breathing hard through his nose.

What will he do?

*****

After he came back, Bucky’s therapist encouraged him to ask questions. Anything and everything, the more the merrier. Nothing was off limits. At first, it felt strange, asking someone else to share the basic tenets of his life, but he grudgingly persevered. It was the only way he knew how to get the answers he needed.

The very first time they sat down, Bucky flipped his notepad open to reveal 27 pages, front to back, loaded with questions.

Some were simple.

“What was my favorite color? How did I take my coffee? When did I have my first kiss? What was my favorite book? Who was my favorite ball player?”

One after another, he fired the questions and Steve answered every single one, down to the most boring, insignificant detail. With every response, Bucky turned the words over in his head, testing them on his tongue and repeating them back. Committing them to memory so he could sketch out the simple outline of who he used to be.

Some here harder.

“Why’d I get drafted instead of signing up for the war? Why didn’t I get along with my father? Was I very religious? Why not?”

Those answers were thorny, not always nice and, but Steve replied with full and frank honesty, because there was no one else in the world knew Bucky Barnes as well as Steve Rogers.

It became a common sight, Bucky clutching the bright pink notepad Natasha gave him, carefully writing answers while Steve spoke; Steve was always willing to drop everything to talk.

Now, he recalls one question where Steve stumbled a bit more than usual.

“Did I want to get married?”

An oddly devastated sadness had rearranged Steve’s features, before he offered a vague answer.

“When we were younger, no. During the war, you changed your mind.”

“Why’d I do that?”

“It happens.”

“People usually have a reason. What happened?”

“War happened. And you know, stuff.”

“Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird, I’m just - look, you, um, you met - someone.”

“Who -“

But before he could dig further, the conversation came to a screeching halt. Bells started ringing, lights flashing, an Irish voice coming through the ceiling as FRIDAY announced they were summoned for a mission. Snapping his mouth shut, Bucky tucked the notepad in the waistband of his jeans and leapt to his feet, the question forgotten.

Later, Steve tried to bring it up again, casually mentioning Bucky’s girl and some letters she wrote to him, but by then it was too late. The mission had gone horribly wrong, and Bucky was exhausted and frustrated and close to tears, and he had no desire to remember someone else he’d let down.

Hurtled back to the present, Bucky sits up in the dim light of her bedroom and throws a knee across her hips, boxing her in beneath him. Palms anchored to the bed beside her head, he looks down at her face. Anxious fear flashes through her, something he can’t reconcile. All he knows in this moment, is a desire to smooth it away.

“I don’t - why didn’t you say something sooner?” Bucky whispers. “Why - “

But he stops. He stops, because he knows why.

“Oh,” he says softly, disappointment filling his throat. “No, okay. It’s okay. I get it.”

She watches him glance at the metal arm, his shoulders sagging as he tries to pull away. Her hands fly up, gripping his arms tight, keeping him in place.

“No. You listen to me Bucky Barnes - this was not about you or anything you think you’ve done.” Bucky stares hard, clearly desperate to believe her. “I wanted to tell you, I just - couldn’t hold you to a promise we made seventy years ago. We were different people then, I know that. You have a whole other life now. I don’t expect anything, I don’t - expect you to still want that.”

The sharp ache that hits him whenever he sees her sadness tightens his chest. The words come easily, and he answers without a second thought.

Because really, he doesn’t need to think. They’re the most honest thing he knows.

“Darlin, you listen to me - I said it then, I’ll say it again. This kind of love, it never leaves. I meant that. Even if I don’t remember saying it, I know I meant it. I know I did.”

Hope fills her eyes at his insistence, that fragile kind he could smash with a single word.

Which he never plans to do, as long as he lives.

“Really?” she whispers, brushing her knuckles over his fuzzy cheek and he turns, pressing his lips to them.

“Really,” he says hoarsely.

Curling her fingers behind his neck, she pulls his mouth down and her kiss is soft and sweet and everything he’s been missing his entire godforsaken life. Bucky lets himself drown in her for a brief moment, before breaking the kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, pulling back. “We were gonna get married and I just fuckin’ left you. I left you. God dammit, I’m - fuck, I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” she says immediately. “It wasn’t your fault, Bucky. None of it was your fault.”

Those magic words, he’s heard them a million times, in a million variations, since the day he came back. They’ve always meant nothing, hollow assurances he actively scorned. He knew better. But now, lying here with her while the dim light of a fresh mountain morning begins to flood the room - he finally lets them soak in.

Maybe he even believes them.

“We were gonna get married,” he says instead, wonder filling his voice. “You were gonna marry me.”

“I was,” she says, and her tentative smile is like the sun. “And you were going to marry me.”

Bucky considers her for a moment before he surges forward. Nothing about the move is coordinated, it’s a messy tangle of tongues and teeth clacking together, a kiss bubbling over with frantic need, as though the world is ending and this is the only way to prevent its demise.

His kiss is frantic and passionate and so utterly Bucky, she can barely breath. Everything he does to her, it kicks her heart into a crazy tailspin and she kisses him back ferociously, drinking up the tiny sounds he makes, the way his lips fit perfectly with hers. It’s enough for forever, the way he spills over so full of life and happiness and love.

And she knows, it’s all for her.

When his hands squeeze her ribcage, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, his lips move up to her ear with the question she’s been waiting for, and she shivers.

“Can I?”

“Yes, please,” she breathes, and Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, steadying himself.

Slipping his hands beneath her shirt, twin sighs of relief come at the feel of skin on skin. For the first time in decades, that feeling of absolute and total desire crackles through her and she arches into his touch. Sliding his right hand up, gently cupping her breast, he kisses her again and she moans into his lips when he thumbs over her nipple. His left hand hesitates on her belly, hard and cold, but then she grips his wrist firmly and tugs his hand up, placing it on her other breast and hooking her ankle behind his thigh.

Rocking himself against her, Bucky kisses every inch of skin he can find; that smooth space behind her ear, the delicate tendon down her neck, the sharp collarbone above her sleep shirt, his hands teasing relentlessly until she’s breathing fast and hard, pushing herself back against him.

Swallowing his nerves, his fingers drift down. Finding the waistband of her shorts, circling the edge, working up the courage to dip his fingers inside, he takes a deep breath and -

His phone buzzes. Loudly.

“Shit,” he rasps, jerking back. Reaching over to the bright screen flashing on the nightstand, his lust-addled brain fumbles repeatedly and he hits the ignore button three times before it goes silent. The spell is momentarily broken, the room quiet. Breathing hard, he gives her a crooked little grin and kisses the tip of her nose. “Sorry. Way to kill the mood, huh? Where were we?”

“Right here,” she murmurs, pulling his face back to hers and slipping her tongue between his lips. Bucky melts into the touch, feels himself growing painfully hard against her, feels her fingers stroking down the hard planes of his stomach, sliding dangerously close to his -

His phone buzzes. Again.

“Motherfucker,” he growls. Snatching it up, he flips the phone to silent again and throws it across the room for good measure. It lands with a soft thump in the corner and he dives back in for a kiss, feeling her shake with silent laughter.

The laughter turns to a breathless whine when he tugs up her shirt, his mouth finding the soft skin of her belly, sucking and kissing a path higher and higher, licking at the swell of her breast, so close, and god he wants to -

He wants to understand why life can’t just go his fucking way for once, that’s what he wants.

His phone buzzes. Again.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Bucky announces, sitting up on his knees. There’s only one person who has the ability to bypass the silent mode he’s put it on and he’s gonna thoroughly enjoy strangling him next time he sees his stupid face.

Bouncing off the bed, he stomps over to the corner and picks up his phone, pressing the answer button so hard he’s surprised the screen doesn’t shatter.

“What, Steve?” he snaps, frustrated desire turning his voice into a snarl. “What could you possibly fucking need right now?”

“Morning sunshine. Sorry to bother, but we need to talk.”

“I’m incredibly busy at the moment,” Bucky grits out. Watching her snuggle deeper into the blankets, she gives him a lazy smile and he slams his eyes shut so he can focus. “I’ll call you later.”

He tries to hang up, but Steve’s voice is calling out “Wait!”

Bucky vows then and there to steal Steve’s shield when he gets back and brain him with it.

“Jesus Christ fuckin’ fuck. Hang on,” he growls. Stamping down the irritation, he shoots her a look of exasperated apology. “Give me two minutes, okay?”

“It’s okay. I’ll go make coffee,” she replies, crawling out of bed and Bucky feels the overwhelming desire to tackle her and make her to stay put. A whine of dissent slips out and she bites back a smile at his frustration. “Come downstairs when you’re done, maybe we can finish this.”

And then she winks and tiptoes out of the bedroom.

Bucky forces himself not to bolt after her. Instead, he irritably adjusts the situation between his legs and waits until she’s out of earshot before flipping the screen to video. Steve’s semi-apologetic face comes into view.

“This better be real fuckin’ good,” Bucky sighs.

“It’s that signal, up at the Hydra base. It’s gone off again.”

Anger evaporating, Bucky’s eyes narrow. “It’s what?”

“It went off again,” Steve repeats. “I thought you disabled it?”

“I did,” Bucky says slowly. “You’re sure?”

“Tony triple-checked it.” His face morphs into serious Captain mode. “Real talk. Do I need to come out? Is it possible there’s something else happening?”

Bucky thinks back, recalling the layers of dust, the cottony white spiderwebs, the echoes of ancient violence stuffed in that cavernous base. Once upon a time, it contained nightmares, sure. But there was nothing there now. He’s sure.

“No, there was nothing there. I’m sure. Stay home.”

Sky blue eyes scrutinize him through the small screen. “If you’re sure.”

“Positive.”

“Fine.” Steve pauses. “Anything else you want to talk about?”

“Nope,” Bucky answers promptly.

“Sure?”

Exhaling a long-suffering sigh, Bucky gives him a pointed look. “Actually yes. You’re a nosy little shit. Why is that?”

The stoic expression fades and Steve grins. “Probably ‘cause I’m used to your dumbass needing my help all the fuckin’ time.”

Shooting him a mocking glare, Bucky shakes his head. “Fucking hell. What’s the press gonna say when they hear Captain America has such a fuckin’ potty mouth?”

“Expect they’ll blame it on you. Just like my Ma did.”

Bucky snorts. “Touché. I’ll go check it out. Call you later. Dick.”

Steve gives him a goofy, open-mouthed smile and a thumbs up. Bucky presses the end call button hard. Silence blankets the room, and he rubs the heel of his hand in his eye, pushing down a sudden wave of tiredness.

Someday, maybe, just maybe - he’ll be done with this shit.

*****

Rifling through the tidy pile of his clothes folded in the corner of her closet, Bucky dresses quickly, pulling on a long-sleeved shirt, a vest, his white tac pants. Pulling his semi-clean, but still slightly bloody, white coat from a hanger, he shrugs into it. Looking into the mirror, he fingers the two bullet holes in the chest, twitching at the memory of them punching through his flesh.

Opening his backpack, he pulls out his cache of weapons. Chooses his favorite Glock, the old Sig Sauer, his second favorite Glock, his third favorite Glock, tucking them all into their designated holsters. Sheathing a couple knives comfortably in his boots, he ties his snarly hair back and fits the white balaclava over his head.

Standing in front of her mirror, he fixes his mouth into that trademark smirk that normally accompanies a mission outfit and tries to psyche himself up. Clear his mind. Sharpen his nerves.

It sort of works. Except that miserable slump of his shoulders - that refuses to change. Grimacing at the visual, he gives up.

Was he always this tired?

Steeling himself, he heads downstairs, clearing his throat and treading loudly to announce his presence. He doesn’t want to scare the shit out of her, stomping around like the abominable snow monster with weapons coming out his ass.

Standing in the kitchen, she wears her silky cotton sleep shorts and a loose t-shirt. The sight of her pouring two steaming cups of coffee, while the sun begins to fill the cozy little cabin, is almost enough to break him. Say fuck it and tell Steve to come do it himself.

But of course, he won’t. He never does. Because here comes Bucky Barnes. He always makes the shot. He always saves the day.

He sighs.

When she looks up, her budding smile instantly fades. She goes still, the only movement the tight clench of her jaw. She sets the coffee pot down with a quiet click.

“Before you ask,” Bucky starts, “I’m not leaving. Steve called, I gotta go back up to the base. That fuckin’ signal’s going haywire again.”

A spasm of alarm floods her face and she grips the edge of the counter. “Someone’s there?”

“We don’t think anyone’s there,” Bucky assures her. “There’s nothing to indicate that, we think it’s just the tech. Guess I didn’t finish the job last time, so I need to go fix it.”

Considering him for a fleeting moment, she bites her lip and thinks; appearing to make a decision she nods and walks toward him, heading for the stairs.

“I’ll get dressed.”

“No,” Bucky says quickly, catching her arm. “You won’t. It’s nothing to worry about. I don’t want you anywhere near that place. Please.”

Squaring her shoulders, she tugs her arm gently from his nervous fingers and Bucky braces for an argument. But then she simply traces the bullet holes in his jacket, examining the torn edges of white fabric. Contemplating his comment. She meets his eyes and gives him a small smile.

“If it’s nothing to worry about, then it doesn’t matter if I come. Unless you’re saying goodbye for good, I’m not letting you go alone. Is it goodbye for good?”

Even the thought of leaving her makes his breath catch.

“No,” he breathes. “Never.”

Reaching up, she tucks an errant strand of dark hair into the balaclava. Cradles his hot, scruffy cheeks in her cool palms, and kisses his lips.

“Then I’m coming with you.”

Should he argue? Probably. Will he? Probably not. Because having someone love him like this - it just feels too nice.

“Okay,” he concedes. “Get dressed.”

*****

Any roads leading to the base have long since grown over. The only way up is an overgrown trail, accessed through a steep hike. Parking her old, now slightly blood-stained truck to edge of the path, they start to climb. Bucky takes it slow at first, until he realizes she’s waiting patiently for him to go faster.

“Altitude sucks,” he pants, pausing to put his hands on his head. “Think you might be in better shape than me.”

“No,” she replies, offering a hand to pull him up. “I’m definitely in better shape than you.”

Barking out a surprised laugh, he squeezes her fingers.

Ninety minutes later, the entrance appears. Grey on grey, the door blends seamlessly into the mountain rock, it’s curved handle set flush against the heavy metal. On his first visit, it was rusted shut, wind and weather and age an effective deterrent; it had taken him nearly an hour to bust through.

Before they enter, Bucky turns to her and unlatches his favorite Glock from the side holster.

“Guess I don’t need to tell you how to use it, since you’ve already saved my ass,” he watches her tuck her gloves into her coat and take the handle of the gun, double-checking the safety. The fluid gesture twists his gut. Looking up, she gives him a wane smile.

“No. All good.”

It bothers him. Clearly, she knows how to protect herself - he wasn’t there to do it, she had to learn - but he despises the fact that violence has touched her. That he’s tainted her with it himself. He doesn’t want that part of his life to be something they share.

Then and there, he makes himself a promise. If he gets a future with her, he’ll do everything in his power to build her a life free from the sadness that seems so adamant to cling to her. Loving her that way, forever and always - it’s the least he can do.

Pulling off the balaclava, he welcomes the bite of cold air against his sweat damp neck. Reaching into the depths of his white coat, he produces two small flashlights, handing one to her and clicking the other to life, and with a shouldered shove, he opens the door. It swings easily, clean and oiled from his last visit.

Holding the flashlight aloft, he balances his gun on his wrist, rolls his shoulders and starts forward, eyes cautiously sweeping the entrance, as she steps carefully behind.

The hallway twists and turns, snaking deep into the bedrock of the mountain. The air warms as they walk, the depth of the mountain keeping the cold from penetrating; the dampness in the air increases though, negating any warming effects and cutting deep.

Damp cold was the worst kind. It always soaked into his bones. Held tight, refused to leave.

Heavy iron doors hang from broken hinges along the walls, frozen in place through a potent combination of old age and powdery red rust. Bucky’s already rummaged through the small rooms lining the hall, turning up nothing more than a handful of paperclips and a couple broken rifles; as he runs his light up and down the doors, the rooms reveal nothing new.

A good thing, he thinks. A very good thing.

Their flashlights illuminate the narrow hall, the enclosed space muffling their footsteps. On and on they plod, until the click of Bucky’s boot makes a new sound, echoing up into the soaring ceiling of a new chamber. They’ve reached the control room now, and there it is.

In the blackness of the cavernous room, he sees a blinking red light.

What the fucking hell?

He starts toward it, super soldier eyes navigating through the darkness. Just before he reaches the light, a startled hum of electricity crackles around them, a generator bursting to life. Whirling around, finger hovering over the trigger, he finds her standing by the wall, her hand wrapped around the t-shaped handle of a giant light switch.

“Jesus fuck,” he mutters, using his shoulder to wipe away the bead of sweat trickling down his temple. “Scared the shit out of me.”

Above the switch, he notices a water-stained Hydra propaganda poster depicting a faded red skull, tentacles reaching into a black pit of writhing, silhouetted bodies. Christ. He remembers those posters. They were tacked up around the bases back in the early 1950s. Some lousy intern’s job, he supposes. Hydra marketing for a summer job.

Assholes.

“We can’t all see in the dark,” she reminds him patiently, brushing the dust from her hands.

“Fair enough,” he says weakly, heart still pounding.

In the dingy light, the control dashboard looks as dirty and untouched as his last visit, coated in a thick layer of filth that only exists with decades of neglect. But in the right-hand corner, the red light blinks steadily.

Bucky’s perturbed. Is he missing something? Is there something else going on?

Right there, the first flash of fear prickles up his neck, lodging sharp claws into his skin.

Scanning the dashboard, he sees the breakers he flipped before, cutting power to the control center. All of them are still clearly locked in the OFF position, so he breathes a sigh of relief - just like the light switch she found, there must be some kind of secondary power source.

He debates the complex panel, searches the buttons and keys and slides and comes up empty. Unless Hydra gave him explicitly detailed instructions, he was never good with tech shit like this. What’s he supposed to do? Dismantle the entire dashboard? Search for a general power source?

In the end, he chooses a slightly different route.

“Cover your ears.”

She looks warily at him, her hands slowly rising to her head.

“Here goes,” Bucky mumbles to himself and with a swing, he smashes a metal fist straight through the dashboard. The sound explodes through the room, pieces of grey plastic and black metal and glass bulbs ricocheting off the wall. Jerking his hand back, he comes up with a fistful of electrical wires and the blinking red light goes dark.

“Problem solved,” he turns to her, the wires dangling like a handful of snakes.

The sound of his blunt dismantling still reverberates through the room, and she stands tense and frozen.

“What else was here?” her voice is low. Unlike Bucky, she seems afraid to make much noise.

“Not much,” Bucky admits, tossing the wires aside. “Searched it last time, nothing useful. Looks like it was abandoned sometime in the ‘50s.” He motions back to the far wall with the gun. “There’s a small office over there, we can have a look around if you want.”

There’s no reason for it, but something about the place puts her off kilter. Following Bucky’s direction, she moves toward the office, unsure what she expects to find, but inside is exactly what he said - nothing. A small desk and file cabinet on one side, a pair of broken metal folding chairs against a brick wall, a pile of crumpled papers on the desk.

“Went through it all,” Bucky confirms, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms. “Desk was empty, file cabinet had a few papers, looks like office inventory. Doesn’t seem like they left anything behind.”

She hums in agreement, peeking into the file cabinets and finding nothing but more dust and the moldering remains of a dead mouse. She turns in a slow circle, eyes tracing the angles of the small room, and she finds nothing. Breathes easier.

Although - wait.

Stepping closer to the wall behind the desk, she runs her fingers lightly across the brick, touching here and there. Bucky watches intently, the way her hands move in random patterns. Several minutes pass in absolute silence, until suddenly she stops. Pressing against a single brick, she wiggles it, crumbling white mortar shaking loose to the floor, and then the brick pulls free.

Behind is a deep, hollow space.

“What - ” Bucky says, coming closer. “How? How did you know?”

There’s an emptiness in her face when she looks at him. “I’ve been hiding things in floorboards and fireplaces and - walls, most of my life.” Her voice sounds infinitely tired, like the years have finally caught up. “I know what to look for.”

Bucky shines a flashlight into the dark space and they see a fat bundle of paper. Reaching in, she tugs gently, the rough brick unwilling to reveal its secret so easily. When it finally pops free, they find a folded envelope. Brushing away the layers of dust, the faded scrawl of cursive handwriting is splashed carelessly across the front, with two words:

VERSION 2.

Wordlessly, she looks at him and Bucky shakes his head in bewilderment.

“I don’t know,” he confesses. “I don’t know what it means.”

She runs her fingers beneath the envelope flap to pull it open, but Bucky stops her, glancing over his shoulder.

“What?” she asks, immediately on alert. “Did you hear something?”

“No, but can we wait until we get home? I just - don’t want you here any longer.” He says the words without thinking and flinches. When we get home? You idiot, you’ll scare her off with that shit. It’s not your home, it’s hers.

But while Bucky frets over his word choice, he notices something. That look of exhaustion and sadness filling her eyes - it disappears. Like a weight’s been lifted from her shoulders. She reaches for his hand, tangling her fingers with his and tugging him close. Tucking herself against him, she hugs him tight and Bucky holds on fiercely.

“Okay,” she agrees softly. “Let’s go home.”

And just like that, Bucky Barnes has a home.

Dropping a kiss to her forehead, he squeezes her hand and they walk toward the door, ready to leave this depressing world behind.

His brain is already plowing ahead, remembering warm blankets and the smell of hot soup and the sound of a crackling fire, all things he now associates with her, associates with happiness. His brain and his heart want it so damn badly, he nearly misses it.

Just before they pass through the door, a strange gust of air, ice cold and smelling of snow.

He stops so fast, she bumps into him. With a sinking feeling in his chest, he turns to the blank wall, eyes roaming over the faded brick.

“Did you feel that?” He glances over his shoulder. Her mouth is turned down and she rubs her nose when it smacked his shoulder.

“Yes,” she says tightly.

Stepping closer, Bucky runs his hands over the brick, searching for the source. Bending down, he freezes, seeing something new, something he knows wasn’t there before. He recognizes it instantly, an unfortunate currency he dealt for decades.

Blood speckled across the brick. A small piece of human skin embedded in the mortar. Dried, but no more than a few weeks old.

Someone was here.

“God dammit,” he hisses, jumping to his feet. “Fucking fuck!”

She kneels beside the wall, absorbing the gruesome details. “That’s new?” she asks, swallowing hard.

“Yes,” he says shortly.

She looks around the office, back in the control room. Remembers Bucky describing the welded shut door at the entrance. “You said the entrance was sealed shut when you first arrived. Could this be the same person? How would they get inside in the first place?”

The icy whistle of wind hits his face again. Leaning into the wall, he pushes, testing a few different points. “Please don’t be a secret door,” he mutters under his breath, but with a sudden grating rumble, it slides back.

Revealing a secret door. He hates secret doors.

Stark would love this.

A long, dark tunnel appears. Tapping anxiously against his leg, he debates - he doesn’t want her to follow, but he’s sure as hell not leaving her alone. He turns around, but she settles it instantly.

“Just go. I’m coming with you.”

Propping the flashlight on his wrist again, Bucky clicks it on and positions the gun. Starting forward, he hunches over, bending to fit his tall frame beneath the low ceiling. For ten minutes they walk, encountering nothing more than ice slicked walls and a hard-packed dirt floor. Finally, the darkness begins to fade, a dim grey light crawling into the spaces around them. Turning a sharp corner, they find the source.

A large metal door sits askew, propped open and allowing slivers of light and cold air to filter through. Coming closer, Bucky discovers the door hinges are unscrewed, a little pile of broken metal and stripped screws littering the ground.

Wrapping a metal hand around the edge of the door, he looks back to her. “Be ready,” he murmurs, nodding to the gun. She raises it, her hands steady and returns his nod. With a rough jerk, Bucky pulls the door fully open, the grate of rust and metal screeching around them.

On the other side, they find a thin fissure in the grey rock of the mountain. Protected from the drifts of snow outside, wide enough for someone to fit through - but hidden well enough that no one would ever think twice.

And there, lying next to the door, is a black wool glove. Threadbare, with an unraveled hole in the thumb, it looks perfectly clean. Clearly a recent addition. Bucky picks it up, that sinking feeling in his chest now bubbling like acid in his throat. He shoves the glove furiously in his pocket.

“You fuckers,” he growls to himself. Turning around, he meets her wide-eyed gaze, panic clear in her face. She still has the gun raised, but now he sees the hint of a tremble in her fingers.

He’d give his entire life to erase that look.

“Hey, come here,” he murmurs, and she steps quickly into his embrace and once more, he holds tight. Holding her this close, he smells the faint, calming scent of her lotion. “Let’s go home. I need to make a call.”

*****

“Anything?”

Once again, Steve Rogers is eating giant globs of peanut butter straight from the jar. Wasting no time, Bucky gets straight to the point.

“Someone was there. Found a back entrance they must’ve used. Assume they turned on the signal.”

Steve swears and the spoon clatters to the kitchen counter.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky snaps.

“What the fuck did they want?”

“I don’t know.”

“No possible scenarios?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky grits out, pissed with Steve’s exasperated sigh. “I’m fuckin’ working on it. Give me a minute to think.”

Steve rubs his forehead. The expression on his face morphs, an odd mix of frustration and enforced calm, with a sprinkle of suspicion.

“The other reason you’re there,” he asks carefully. “The reason you’ve stayed. Whatever that is, could it have anything to do with this?”

Bucky opens his mouth to refute that possibility, because fuck you Steve, of course not - but then he pulls up short. That’s the thing. He doesn’t know. She still hasn’t told him her ability and why it ever allowed her to know the scope of Hydra’s brutality. This is one big piece of the puzzle that remains hidden.

“I don’t know,” he admits. Looking out of the bedroom, his gaze grows thoughtful. “But I’ll find out.”

*****

Downstairs in the cozy little cabin, she opens the dusty envelope.

Inside, she finds 14 photographs. They’re old, a sepia toned mix from the 1940s and 1950s, their occupants slightly blurry and peeling around the edges. On her kitchen counter, she lines them up in two straight rows.

She stares.

She begins to shake.

“Darlin, can we talk about something?”

Bucky’s voice is low and soothing, meant for comfort. Walking up beside her, he peers curiously at her profile. Slowly she turns, and the look on her face cuts him to the bone.

“Bucky - “

Cold sweat fills the palms of her hands where they lay flat on the counter and a shudder ripples through her, rattling her entire body. He moves quickly behind her, pressing himself against her back, wrapping his arms around her, surrounding her in that blessed heat.

“Hey, hey, what is it?”

Over her shoulder, he sees the images.

There are two group photos, each showing four men posing. Three of the men are dressed in white lab coats, horn-rimmed coke bottle glasses perched on their noses. The fourth stands a head above them, dressed head to toe in black, his white-blond hair gleaming even in the faded photo. Bucky’s lip curls in disgust - an SS officer, from the looks.

Until he looks closer. Something about the man’s arrogant sneer and icy stare sparks a long-forgotten memory. Bucky squints.

“Hang on. I think I remember him,” he says slowly. “He was there my first few years, but then he disappeared. Deserted, they said.”

“Deserted,” she repeats. She gives a hollow laugh. “I doubt that.”

Bucky should interrogate that comment, but he sets it aside for a moment. Returning to the pictures, he looks at the second row. The images are consistent, six full body pictures of a naked male, each accompanied by a close-up headshot - twelve photos in total. A small postcard is clipped to each pair of photos, block print letters with details.

This is familiar. Not the men themselves, but the visual and the information. Familiar, because long ago, the former Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes started with a file just like this.

Name. Country. Rank. Skills.

In the beginning, he supposes his was just as simple and basic. Until the graciousness of cryofreeze carried him through the decades, turning his paper-thin file fat with Hydra accomplishments. Assassination, murder, torture. All those details that made up the shadowy outline of the Winter Soldier.

Suddenly, he gets it.

Version 2.

Bucky knows that while he may have been the first successful super soldier Hydra created, he was by no means the only experiment. Proof of that assumption is lined up on the table before him. Soldiers and special skills categorized alphabetically in what he realizes is evidence of Hydra’s original super soldier trials.

The information is massive. He needs to call Steve, but there are shallow, panicked gasps bleeding from her throat, and he refuses to set that aside, because she is his priority - he turns her firmly to face him.

“Look at me. Darlin’, look at me. What is it?”

Wild eyes search his, so full of despair. Sweat slick fingers point to a pair of photos, depicting a tall, thin boy with curly black hair and vacant eyes.

Bucky looks closer and sees the information listed on the card.

NAME: Lewis, Henry.

COUNTRY: United Kingdom.

RANK: Lieutenant.

SKILLS: Espionage. Technology.

“I know him,” her voice cracks. She pauses and corrects herself. “I mean, I knew him.”

More than anything, he wants to ask about her past. Who she was before she found him broken and bleeding that day in her village. What she went through all those years ago that shaped her into the wary person she became. What secret she carries that weighs so heavily on her soul.

But he promised he wouldn’t. He knows the pain of having other people digging into his past, what it feels like to feel like to reveal your darkest secrets. He knows he needs to tread lightly.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asks carefully.

“No,” she whispers, staring down at her hands. “But I need to.”

He takes her chilly fingers in his and rubs, quick friction warming them.

“Okay,” he encourages. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can tell me anything.”

She stares at their entwined hands and curls her finger tight around his silver thumb.

“I don’t think you’ll like me very much. When you know.”

Bucky feels a hysterical desire to laugh. Not like her? Absurd. How could he not love her? Smiling wryly, he brings their hands up and leaves a kiss on her knuckles.

“Between the two of us, my track record will always be worse. There’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind, so don’t worry about that. Just tell me.”

Gathering her courage, she looks up to meet soft blue eyes.

And she talks.

“When I was 12-years-old, a group of men came to my home. The - blond man. He was looking for me. They arrested my Father and I ran. As far from Berlin as I could get.” Closing her eyes, the memory of that black night burns fresh. “I made it to the coast and bought the first ticket out of Germany I found. In March of 1929, I got to London.”

Bucky imagines her as a little girl, alone, penniless, mourning her father and hiding from an unknown horror. It makes him want to raze the world for her.

“That was brave. You were really brave,” he tells her, still rubbing her skin, but she shakes her head.

“That’s where I met him.”

*****

Next Chapter

*****

Tags are open right now, if you want one, please send me a DM or ASK.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #altnl

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fallen-imagine-angel · 5 years

Text

Robbery Gone Wrong (Ben Hargreeves x Reader)

Notes: Hey guys! It’s my first Umbrella Academy fanfic! There are more in the works, I swear, but also this is my first time writing for these characters so I’m sorry if they’re a little OOC. I will get better as time goes on. However, I hope they’re at least close to character, and I hope you guys enjoy! And, as always, my asks/DMs/submit box/tag list is always open so feel free to drop in anytime :)

Summary: You’re one of the forty-three children that didn’t get adopted by Reginald Hargreeves, but lucky for him, you live just down the street.

Robbery Gone Wrong

Ben Hargreeves x Reader

Requested?: Yes, by @raythecomputerart : “I would die for some Ben x reader and platonic klaus you're free to do whatever you want but if you want a prompt then maybe something with a reader that's one of the other children that weren't adopted maybe a healer one OR a conduit type one(like essentially they enhance others abilities) or just whatever you want”

Word Count: 1,457

Warnings: mentions fighting & a robbery but nothing too graphic I don’t think; someone gets hurt

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n)! My HBIC!” Klaus slings an arm around your shoulders as you step into the Hargreeves Mansion.

“HBIC? Klaus, you know what that means right?” You deadpan, giving him a pat on the back. Klaus is one of your best friends here at the Umbrella Academy.

“Of course! It means Head Babe In Charge, HBIC! Duh.” He gives you a cheeky grin, knowing that is not the correct acronym. You let it slide, though.

“Oh, hey, (Y/n).” Ben comes running down the stairs to give you a hug. You immediately let go of Klaus and hug Ben, ignoring Klaus’ eye roll. He knew about your feelings for number six.

“Hey, Ben.” You smile.

“So what are you doing over here, my dear?” Klaus hums, looking at the black nail polish on his fingertips that is starting to chip off.

“I can redo those for you later, Klaus,” You start, seeing the excitement grow in his eyes, “but I’m here because your father called me over for a training session.”

“Right...our father.” Klaus sighs.

“Klaus, come on.” Ben gives Klaus a warning look. You giggle.

“All children to the training room. Now.” Reginald’s voice crackles through the com system.

“I guess that’s our cue to leave.” You spin on your heel and head toward the training room, the two boys hot on your heels. Ben catches up a bit faster.

“So, (Y/n), I was thinking...maybe we could hang out later? Not, like, in my room with Klaus like we usually do. Like...just us, at Griddy’s or something?” Ben proposes, giving you a shy smile.

“Will your dad let you do that?” You frown.

“Probably not, but who says I can’t sneak out?” His shy smile grows into a grin. You break out into a grin of your own and nod.

“Leave your window open tonight, I’ll come to get you when my parents are asleep.” You nudge him in the side.

“Will do.” He ruffles your hair and goes to join his brothers and sisters. You smile to yourself.

God, you love that boy.

“Listen up! Today each of you will have a one-on-one training time with Miss (Y/l/n). As you all know, she is one of the forty-three and her parents insisted on keeping her. Her power is to enhance all of your powers. Anyway, number one, you’re first.” Reginald ushers you and Luther into the training room. You stand across from each other, slightly awkward. You were never great friends with Luther, mostly because you didn’t really understand him.

“Are you gonna do something so I can help you?” You blurt out, itching to do something with your power.

“Oh, right.” Luther clears his throat and starts punching on one of the punching bags in a corner. You raise your hands and focus hard to make him stronger. Soon enough, he takes out the punching bag in one hit, leaving it destroyed on the ground.

“Again?” You smile. He nods and goes to another punching bag, taking it out in one hit again.

“That’s enough, number one. Number two, your turn.” Reginald pushes Diego into the training room. At that moment, though, the alarm rings.

“Mr. Hargreeves, should we take care of that?” You ask.

“Yes, yes! Hurry along to your rooms and get your masks! (Y/n), get into uniform, too.” Reginald instructs, turning on his heel to go to his office. You sigh and go to the nearest restroom, grabbing your clothes from Grace along the way.

Within minutes, you and the Hargreeves children are at the scene of the crime. It’s a bank robbery hostage situation, a pretty easy mission.

“(Y/n), cover me,” Allison yells, skipping over to a large group of masked robbers. You get to work, enhancing Allison’s skill.

“I heard a rumor that you all are traitors,” Allison whispers, but with your power, it reaches the entire group’s ears. After that, they all start to fight one another instead.

“(Y/n), over here!” Klaus calls, giving you a thumbs up. You focus on enhancing him and one of his ghosts pops up, scaring a robber as Diego stabs him in the back.

“Teamwork!” You grin, pumping your fist in the air. Klaus mimicks you, but his face goes white as he looks behind you.

You turn around to see a robber heading toward you with a knife in hand. Before you can react, though, Ben has jumped in front of you.

“Ben!” Klaus and you yell at the same time. You watch as the knife plunges into Ben’s stomach.

Within seconds, five has teleported over and cracked the guy’s neck. You fall down next to Ben as the fight rages on around you. Klaus is engaged in battle, trying to keep the two of you away from harm.

“Ben, listen to me, okay? I learned how to do this a little while ago, but you’re going to have to trust me.” You grab his hand, squeezing it in your own. He gives a forced chuckle.

“I trust you with my life, (Y/n).” He admits.

“Good, because that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.” You murmur, setting a hand lightly on his wound.

“What are you doing?” He groans, eyes flicking to his stomach wound.

“Keep your eyes on me.” You demand, lifting his chin to make eye contact with you again.

“Gladly.” He tries for a smile, but it disappears as soon as it comes.

“You know how I said I was going to try to enhance my own powers one of these days and see what happens?” You ask, keeping his focus on you.

“Yeah, I think so. Why? Did you do it?” He hums, eyes starting to droop from the loss of blood.

“I did,” You nod, “and you know what happened? I can heal whenever I enhance myself. I guess since my normal power is helping others, when I enhance myself, I can help them more. You know?” You enhance yourself, using as much of your energy as possible to heal the wound on Ben’s stomach. Then, the wound is gone, only a small scar replacing it.

“Holy crap, that’s actually awesome. Does my dad know about this?” He asks, poking at the scar

“Not yet, but he will now. Come on, we have a fight to finish.” You get up and hold out your hand to help him. He takes it and smiles, kissing your cheek once he’s back on his feet. You hope that your mask covers the blush enough.

“Are you two lovebirds done talking yet? I’m getting kinda tired over here.” Klaus complains as he kicks a robber in the groin.

“You’re doing just fine on your own, Klaus.” You laugh.

“Yeah, but it’s more fun with a friend. Come on, (Y/n).” Klaus whines as he drags you away from Ben.

Once the fight is over, you’re back at the Hargreeves Mansion.

“What was that, number eight? You healed number six. How?” Reginald questions you.

“First of all, I’m not number eight. It’s (Y/n), remember? My parents named me because they love me. Second of all, I experimented and figured it out. Pretty cool, right?” You grin at the man. He gives you a ridiculous look.

“Children...” He huffs and goes to his office to learn more about your powers.

“Thanks for saving my life back there, (Y/n).” Ben comes up from behind you, a sheepish smile donned on his face.

“Of course. I’d save your life anytime, any day.” You grin at him, punching him lightly in the arm. He laughs.

“So...I don’t know if you got this earlier or not, but when I was asking you to hang out later...I kinda meant, like, as more than friends. If you want, that is.” He scratches the back of his neck nervously.

“Ben Hargreeves, are you asking me on a date?” You tease.

“Maybe...if your answer is yes.” He admits, biting his lower lip.

“The answer is definitely a yes. I’ll sneak in your window later and we’ll go on our date.” You nod.

“Great. That’s...that’s great, I can’t wait.” Ben’s smile gets wider and he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll see you later, my survivor.” You hug him before walking out of the mansion and back to your house.

“So, you finally got the girl, huh?” Klaus props an elbow up on Ben’s shoulder. Ben shrugs it off.

“Shut up, Klaus.” He rolls his eyes and walks off.

“What? Oh, come on, bro! I’m just lightly teasing you about the love of your life! What’s gonna happen when the two of you get married and you have to deal with this all the time?” Klaus calls after his brother.

It’s a dysfunctional family, but a loveable one at that.

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