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knullanon · 3 years

Text

invincible bullshit that i came up with 10 days ago i just forgot about it

ngaoevnbiaebiw its here @anxiousnerdwritings i hope you like it i got inspired by you to write this

words: 2196

warnings: past arguing, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ENTIRE SEASON 1, shooting, arguing, past manipulation

“Reports of who killed the Guardians of the globe are starting to surface, with our agents finding out about the supposed killer: we know they spared Omni-Man, killed the rest of the members, and then fled. We also know they are not from earth. Lots of people have speculated that Omni-Man is the one behind these killings, however, the government has ruled out that being a possibility, since there was no evidence of Omni-Man doing these actions. More at 7 tonight on-”

The program stopped playing as you saw a contact appear on the top of the screen, and reading it, you immediately perked up.

Swiping on the green button, you happily said, “Hey, Dad! What’cha need?”

You heard a chuckle from the other end, before he said, “Hey kiddo, how you holding up?”

“Nothing much going on here, you good over there?”

“Yup, mostly everything is fine. You know my work, they always have something for me to do.”

“Hopefully that clears up soon.”

“Yeah, hey, listen, where are you right now?”

Ugh, not this again. Your mood slightly dropped as you remembered a few years ago, when you first met Cecil. He wasn’t as good as he is now, and he would always be asking where you would be. Even in school. However, that was all in the past, since you were older, he now knew that you were responsible enough to do things on your own. At least, that’s what he wanted you to believe.

“Uh, well, I was just gonna go hang out with some friends and then go back home. Why?”

“Ok, listen to me very carefully: one of my guys is gonna pick you up near Bridgetown, ok? You’re gonna get a bracelet from them and then I’ll explain the rest here.”

What the fuck? “Oh, um, ok, when will they be there?”

“About 5 minutes. Be there soon, love you, bye.”

He hung up the phone quickly, which was extremely rare, even for him, since he would never show his love to you out publicly and you would feel weird if he even did. However, on the phone or in private he was a completely different person, having a great personality and he was an even better dad.

Well, he did say to hurry up, and 5 minutes. You checked the time and when you saw it was near 1. You strided your way towards the street he told you to meet on, and cheerfully thought of the ways to hang out with your friends after whatever he wanted to do. Maybe you could go to the mall? Maybe the food court? You’ve been meaning to try those damn milkshakes at that new bar everyone is talking about, but it was always so crowded. You never liked crowded places in the first place.

Suddenly, your phone rang again. This time, when you checked, it was your dad again. Strange. It was weird for him to call you twice in a row. He usually got to the point within a few sentences.

Picking up the phone, you said, “Hey dad-”

“________, listen to me. Get to someplace safe now. Get out of the road. Get out of the public. I don't care if you have to go inside someone else’s house, just get out of sight.”

Stopping in the middle of the road you let out some surprised stutters. “Wh- Dad, what are you talking about?”

“_______, please, just listen to me when I say this, you are in danger and you need to get out of there.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

You were shuffling around trying to find a good place to “hide” while your dad went into complete panic mode in his voice. “_______, find a place to hide, and whatever you do, get out of open space.”

You heard him speak to someone off the phone, before he cursed out loud. “I have to call you back, but someone will be there, wherever you are, ok? I… I love you.”

Before you could answer him, he hung up the phone. Anxiety was the only thing you could feel, as you looked around the desolate neighborhood. There was a reason why you chose this area over others: it was quiet and small. Not only that, but the only people who walked this way were people who were not fond of bigger crowds. In fact, you haven’t seen anyone go this way for a long time. You always wondered why, since it was the perfect way to get robbed. Of course, that would never happen, especially with all those lessons from your dad about self defense.

The street you were on had walls surrounding the sidewalk to prevent people from going into people's backyards, probably. They were too high up to climb, and they were concrete, so it wouldn’t be easy to just hop over and call it a day.

However, you were almost at the end of the street, and you knew there was a little patch of bushes and leaves that would provide the perfect cover. They were almost as tall as your dad, which always made you wonder who was watering them to be that big.

Pacing quickly towards the end of the street, and seeing no one in sight made you let out a sigh of relief. Either dad was overeating or something bad was happening, and you don’t know which would be worse. When Cec- dad overrated, it always got messy, no matter what it was about.

“Why were you out so long? I was about to send a team after you-”

“Cecil, it’s fine, I just had to talk to my-”

“Don’t call me Cecil, and don’t try to make excuses, tell me who you were with right now or I swear to god-”

You forgot the memory almost as soon as it came up, instead choosing to focus on getting to the brush where you could hide until C- Dad came to pick you up. Wherever he was. Actually, did he give you a time that he would be there?

You got a weird feeling that made you sprint towards the bushes and dive in, like there was someone behind you. You ignored it and forced your way on all fours, ignoring the cuts and scratches you were getting on your arms and legs.

There was almost a whooshing sound above you, and you wondered if your dad sent a fucking jet to get you. But that thought left your mind when you heard it right next to you, along with the sound of someone making a harsh landing onto the street. You were able to hear the little bits and pieces of concrete fly off the ground to hit the ground again.

You stayed completely still, leaning on your arms while your body was facing the street. You heard something shuffle, like moving fabric around, before a familiar voice hit your ears.

“Who’s there?” they- he said, and you were about to cry out of relief when you heard it. “Omni-Man?”

~~~~~

“Cecil, why do you think Nolan would go after ________?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Cecil didn’t look at Debbie, instead focusing on the map in front of him, wondering where Mark could’ve been.

“What reason would he have to go after them? I just- he wouldn’t just attack a child, would he?”

Cecil felt his head start to hurt. Goddamnit, why did Nolan want to go after you? You had nothing to do with anything, besides being Cecil’s daughter. … is that why he was after you? Just because you were related to Cecil?

No, Nolan wasn’t stupid. He knew you weren’t his biological daughter, Nolan knew Cecil took you from somewhere.

He probably thought you were just someone that he got for fun, which was the furthest from the truth. Cecil didn’t-

“Sir, we’ve found Mark Grayson, along with your daughter, not at the same locations, but-”

“Where is she?” Cecil didn’t try to hide his worry in his voice. It didn’t exactly help when the agent said, in a monotone voice, “She's with Omni-Man, sir.”

~~~~~

“________? What are you doing here?”

Peeking out from the bush, you saw Omni-Man walk up towards you and hold out his hand. You graciously took it, and helped yourself up. Even when you were standing at your full height, Omni-Man was way taller than you. Like, way taller. He could beat your dad within an inch of his life even with all of that combat stuff he learned over the years.

Of course he could, he’s Omni-Man dumbass. Ignoring the thought, you answered, “I’m, uh, busy.”

You saw him give a small smile. “You’re busy hiding in the bushes?”

“Yes.” you cursed internally for answering that so quickly like an idiot. You weren’t expecting him to let out a laugh. He continued while you stood there, confused as all hell.

Finally, he said, “You know, you’re a terrible liar.” You laughed along with him for a moment, before saying, “Yeah, I know.”

His face suddenly darkened, before he said, “So, why are you out here?”

The laughter in the air was gone now, only replaced by crushing silence as he waited for your answer. You felt yourself shrink under his scrutinizing gaze. He looked like he was judging you for just standing there. Well, he could’ve also been judging you because you were in a bush just 10 seconds earlier. After a few more seconds, you broke.

“C- Dad said to hide somewhere.”

“Aren’t you too old to be playing those games?”

“Yeah, I am, but apparently someone was gonna come and get me. He just said to get out of open space.”

You heard him mutter something under his breath, before he scratched the back of his head.

“Well, I can see why he would want that.”

“Really? Why?”

“A mob boss named Machine Head.” When you gave him a confused look, he elaborated, “Machine head was a guy who took down the new Guardians of the Globe along with… Mark. They thought they got him, but unfortunately they weren’t able to kill him.”

“How does that have anything with me?”

“... You’re Cecil’s daughter. Cecil was the one who found out about Machine Head. And took him down. Machine Head wants revenge against Cecil for ruining his plans, so he’s probably going to take it out on you.” When you still gave a surprised stare, he asked, “Do you really not have this happen often?”

“No, Dad keeps me inside alot…” your voice trailed off when you heard your phone ring, and picking it up, you saw it was your dad.

“Hello?”

“_________, I told you to get to somewhere safe!”

“I-I am! I’m with Nolan!”

“Hey, Cecil, don’t worry, I’m right here.” Nolan’s voice was filled with sarcasm, probably an old joke between the two. After all, they were both good friends to each other.

“No, you don’t understand, ______, listen to me-”

Suddenly you were grabbed by your arm, and dragged down. You were caught by Omni-Man before you hit the ground, though. Looking behind him, you saw two trucks coming towards you, along with multiple people in them, with weapons of all sorts.

You didn’t have time to ask who they were or what they wanted, as Omni-Man grabbed you and pulled out off the ground, and into the air. It took you a few moments, but you realized you were in the air. Flying.

Reaching for your phone in your pocket to call your dad back, you realized you must’ve dropped it. However, you weren’t about to waste your energy trying to get it back. Especially not when you were high above the ground. So you simply hung on for dear life as Omni-Man flew away from the shouting people in the cars.

~~~~~

“Where is she?”

“She went with Omni-Man, sir.”

Cecil stood there for a moment, wondering what the fuck happened. It was obvious now that Nolan had no intentions to harm you, but why would he take you and not tell you anything? Cecil wondered before something was handed to him. “We found this near where they took off, sir.”

It was your phone. Completely crushed to bits. “Omni-Man took it from her and crushed it without her knowledge, sir.”

“You started to shoot at her?! What the hell were you thinking!?”

The men stood there, completely still realizing their mistake. “We’re not kids playing at some game, this is real life. And now- I-” he really wanted to kill Nolan now. Debbie was going to become a widow, and he really didn’t care.

Walking up to the truck that was nearest to him, he opened the back and shuffled around, trying to find something, anything that would be of use.

Then he found his favorite gun. The only one he could actually hold himself without another person that stopped Omni-man.

Loading the ammunition, he walked over to Donald, who had a tablet in his hand. “Sir, we’ve found where they’re going.”

Looking at the area on the map, Cecil tapped his wrist watch, and said, “Good. Get the backup ready, and get Mark Grayson. Get Invincible.”

#yandere invincible #yandere nolan grayson #yandere cecil stedman #originally i was gonna put the invincible logo at the end but i didn't want to do that much work cuz im tired rn

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whataboutmyfries · 3 years

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Russian Roulette

Hello hello!!!! I finished this chapter at 1.30 am and was too tired to put it up then, but AHHHH I’m so excited for you to read this one ;) lots of pining, a little magic and the boys generally being idiots.

All credits to @lumosinlove Thank youuuuuuuu <3

tws in the tags!

Chapter 3

Logan sighed, his hair still damp from his shower. He’d always showered after a job. It helped him feel cleaner somehow. He kicked his feet up onto the table, texting Finn about his whereabouts and what he wanted for dinner. He paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

He received Finn’s reply a few minutes later; Meet me outside, there’s something I want to show you.

Logan perked up at that, shopping his gun into the back of his jeans, tugging the oversized hoodie down over his ass to cover it up. Hr grabbed his coat, snagging Finn one of those cola lollipops he liked so much.

He met Finn by the car, a sleek black Lamborghini. The redhead leaned against the matte black door, his red curls slipping over his forehead as he texted somebody on his phone.

“Wanna tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, quirking an eyebrow as he sauntered over to his….friend. Finn’s head snapped up, his expression melting into an easy smile when he saw Logan walking over.

“Not yet. Get in.” Finn said, ducking into the driver’s seat. Logan walked over to the other side, his lips quirking up in a ghost of a smile when he saw the milkshake Finn had got him. The man in question looked over, huffing a small laugh when he saw Logan looking.

“It’s chocolate. With extra whipped cream and chocolate sauce on top.”

Logan’s heart stuttered. Finn had noticed. Not just noticed, but memorised his order. He shoved away the wave of overwhelming feeling that threatened to swallow him whole and picked up the cup. His eyes fell shut at the first sip of cold against his throat.

He’d always gravitated towards the sickly sweet. Tooth-rottingly sugary cakes and coffees and pancakes. Maybe it was to fight the bitter darkness that roiled inside him, maybe it was because he liked the juxtaposition of a vicious criminal digging into a tub of ice cream, or maybe it was simply because he’d liked the sugar.

He was glad to be the one sitting in the passenger seat. He had a perfect view of Finn, a hand resting casually on the wheel, the other resting on the windowsill, scarred fingers tangled in the mess of curls. Maybe Logan liked sweet because of the way the sunlight hit Finn’s eye’s the brown looking like molten chocolate and warm coffee, the way the rays danced through his hair making it look like spun sugar, those lips gleaming like— Logan snapped out of his thoughts, choking a little on his milkshake, He turned away resolutely, turning to fiddle with the radio instead. He leaned forward, reaching out for the volume button when he felt something jab into his thigh.

Logan frowned, leaning back to pull the lollipop from his pocket, nudging Finn’s shoulder with it until he laughed and plucked it out of Logan’s fingers.

“Thank you, Tremz, I love these. Unwrap it for me?” Finn chuckled, the infernal candy hanging between his fingers like those cigarettes he occasionally smoked.

Logan rolled his eyes, grabbing it and ripping the plastic off. “A Big boy mob boss, but he still can’t unwrap his own lollipops. What would your associates say?” He teased, putting the candy into Finn’s waiting mouth. The slight brush of his fingers against his friend’s lips made his heart clench, and he pulled away quickly, his cheeks heating up.

Finn laughed, flicking his tongue around the sweet, pulling the car into an underground parking lot. Logan raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Finn. His eyes crinkled as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, straightening his sweater as he stepped out of the car.

“Wait and watch.”

As it turned out, Finn had taken Logan to a park, the easy winds of spring spreading the smell of churros through the air. Logan smiled as Finn walked them both to the churro truck, grinning at June as he ordered their usual— churros drowning in Nutella.

Logan zoned out of Finn and June’s animated conversation, choosing to ignore their not-so-subtle flirtation in favour of looking around the park. It was a gorgeous day; people walked their dogs or lounged on benches, and Logan idly mused about what life would be like if it were so bloody normal.

He sighed, blocking out June’s tinkling laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. Sometimes he wondered what his life would’ve been like had he not been thrust into this one. It was his father’s fault, really, taking loan after loan after loan from the snakes to keep his family alive. Logan almost scoffed aloud; family? More like drinking habit. Marius had tried, he really had, but it hadn’t been enough. What little savings they’s had after Marius had lost his job had quickly sputtered out, leaving them with little to no choices. And damn him if Logan were to ever allow his sisters to sell their bodies on the streets.

And when money from the loans had run out, well, the snakes had come to collect a debt.

Logan rubbed unconsciously at the scar tissue on his thigh, cringing a little at the memory of Crouch junior’s knife tearing through his leg, skin and muscle ripping under the vicious blade. Logan carried the scar proudly. He had fought like hell to keep his sisters and his mother safe, and damn if he wasn’t proud of the badge he wore as a testament to the fact.

“Thanks, Junebug! We’ll see you around!” Finn called, nudging Logan with a shoulder. “Shall we?”

Logan swallowed the hurt that rose in his throat, smiling at Finn as he grabbed a churro.

“Tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, licking a spot of Nutella off his pinky.

Finn smiled. “Almost there.”

Logan’t interest piqued when Finn led him to a crowd gathered seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Logan raised an eyebrow at Finn.

The redhead winked. “Consider it an early Christmas present”

“Harz, it’s May”

Finn waved him off, shoving a dripping churro into his mouth “Go see” he said, the words a little muffled through the food.

Logan skirted through the crowd, finding his was to the front.

Oh.

Logan’s heart all but dropped out of his chest. He’d never been so glad for his penchant for subtle disguises. His baseball cap pulled low, the aviators hiding most of the top half of his face. He was almost positive he wouldn’t be recognised.

But then Leo looked up.

And the whole world stopped.

Leo didn’t stop his movements for even a second, his fingers flipping the cards swiftly, his lips never stopping the sweet sweet illusion he was spinning for the poor bastard about to lose his money.

But he looked Logan dead in the eye and conned the man out of a full 150 dollars, grinning like the devil as he did it. The man walked away down 150 bucks and a watch.

“How about that gentleman there? Would you like to try, sir? Maybe lady luck will favour you this fine evening” Leo grinned, nodding in the capocrimine’s direction.

Logan smiled, letting a little of the lion show as he eased his way out of the crowd to join Leo in the middle.

“How much would you bet, sir? 50? 100? 150?”

Logan slapped 200 dollars on the table.

“Well well well,” Leo raised a brow. “Let’s play.”

Logan tried very very hard to keep his gaze on the cards, but how could he when Leo’s nimble fingers darted around them looking ever so tantalising. Logan was utterly mesmerised, and by the time Leo asked him to find the Lady, he hadn’t the slightest clue as to where she was.

Logan picked the card closest to his hand. He’d never had a chance in hell, anyway.

Needless to say, by the end of it, Leo had an extra two hundred dollars to his name. As Logan got up to walk away, he heard Leo call out from behind him.

“Sir! You forgot something!”

He turned to find Leo holding his wallet up with two fingers, a mischievous glint in his eye and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Oh he was good.

Logan smiled, stalking back to him. “Ah, stupid of me. Thank you.”

Leo just winked at him as he walked off, their fingers brushing for the fraction of a section when Logan took his wallet back.

He spotted Finn amongst the people immediately, grinning like a damn fool as he walked over to him. Logan opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again.

“I know.” Finn said. “I know”

The quiet joy in Finn’s eyes damn near killed Logan, and it was an effort of self-control to not kiss him right there. No. He was impossible. Logan could never have him. They were mob bosses. It would be hell to pay if the world ever found the one thing he’d save above all others.

Logan ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the brown curls. He frowned at the scratch of paper under his sleeve and pulled the fabric up to find a card underneath. His breath caught, and he turned it over to find the queen of hearts sitting there.

Oh, this was going to be fun .

Logan’s grin widened at the message scrawled across the lady with thick black ink. In Leo’s slanting script it read;

Better luck next time.

#tw:injury #tw: alchohol mention #tw: prostitution mention #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #oknutzy #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #Leo knut #russian roulette #my writing #whataboutmyfries

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 years

Text

Good Business: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel (Mob AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a ruthless mobster. He’s also referred to as Big Buck due to his towering strong frame as well as his round stomach. You’re the owner of a small diner, a place that Big Buck decides to visit. Based off this drabble.

Over his meal, Bucky watches you behind the counter when he can. He watches how you’re overall sweet to each customer. You smile and laugh with them and he’s wishing you could be that way with him. But he understands your hostility towards him. He’s one of the most feared men in New York. How can you not be weary around him?

“You finished?”

Bucky looks up to see you staring down at him expectantly. Your eyes glancing to his now empty plate and back to his eyes. He clears his throat, “Yeah.”

You take the plate and any trash around him, “I’ll bring out your dessert now.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk over to the display case, cutting him a slice of the Boston cream pie and setting it on a plate. You walk back to him and place it before him, “There you go.”

He politely smiles up at you, “Thanks, sweetcheeks.” he breaks off a large piece with his fork and shovels it into his mouth. With mouth full of pie, he asks, “So how long have you had this place?”

You roll your eyes at his poor table manners, “Five years now. I always dreamt of having my own cute little diner. So I double majored in business and culinary to get where I am now.”

Bucky swallows and points to the pie, “You bake these yourself?”

You nod, “All the desserts, yeah.”

“Well, sweetcheeks, your cream pie tastes amazing,” he says with a wink.

Again, you roll your eyes, “You’re not as charming as you think, Big Buck.”

He gives a shrug, “You’re a tough cookie.”

“I may be tough, but I’m no cookie, Big Buck.”

He grins up at you, taking some last few sips of his milkshake, “Don’t I know it, sweetcheeks.”

After he finished up his pie and shake, Big Bucky paid and he left with promising words of coming again soon. You didn’t doubt him.

While you began to wipe down the counter, Sharon came up to you, “Holy shit. I honestly thought he was here to kill you for yesterday. Turns out he just wanted to eat.”

You give a shrug, “No one can resist my food, Share.”

“Seems so, especially if it’s your pie,” she nudges you with her hip at her innuendo and continued to pick up her ready orders.

____________________________

Bucky entered his home, letting out a groan as he rubbed his belly in satisfaction, “That really hit the spot,” he stated as Steve approached him.

“Enjoy lunch?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Did you talk to the diner chick?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Did you ask for her number?”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

Bucky scoffed, “Steve, she don’t want nothin’ to do with me. She knows who I am and what I do. She’ll never fall for the likes of me.”

“But you’re still gonna go to her diner,” Steve stated with a smirk and Bucky caught it. It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

“Well...yeah. The food’s good and her pie, Stevie, her cream pie was delicious!”

Steve snickered, “You tasted her cream pie, huh?”

That received a thump on the head, “Hey! None of that! But yes, I ate her literal cream pie and it was fucking delicious. Like my ma used to make.”

“You’re shitting me,” Steve scoffed.

Bucky shook his head, a big grin on his face, “Nope. Not shittin’ ya at all. One of the best pies I’ve ever tasted after ma’s. And you know that’s the highest compliment I could give to someone.”

Steve whistled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “Hmmm...beautiful gal who’s a businesswoman and makes amazing pies. Maybe I should I ask her out myself.”

He immediately received a shove, “You wouldn’t dare! Besides, I saw you makin’ eyes at the blonde waitress there. Stick with her!”

“Whatever you say, Buck.”

Bucky opens his mouth to give a retort, but in rushes Sam, panting and his knuckles bleeding, “Sitwell’s spilling everything now.”

Bucky clapped his hands, “Yes! This day keeps gettin’ better and better, Stevie, boy!” and he follows Sam to the basement with Steve following closely behind.

____________________________

Two hours. Just two hours to go and you could close up shop. Not to say that you loved owning and working the diner. It was your baby, of course, but it can be exhausting sometimes. So in just two hours, you can close up and go home.

“Hey, sweetcheeks!” oh what the hell?

You turn towards the door looking annoyed, “When you said that I’d see you soon, I figured you meant tomorrow or maybe next week or something. Not,” you look at your watch, “Less than twelve hours later.”

Bucky walks over to you and pinches your cheek, “You’re cute when you’re sassy, you know that?”

You slap his hands away, “Touch me again and I won’t hesitate to cut your hands off.”

A blonde man accompanying Bucky, who you realized was the same man from yesterday, snickered, “You really are the fiesty one.”

“Yeah, no shit. What do you guys want now?”

The blonde spoke up, “Buck here told me he tried your Boston cream pie. Said it was almost as good as his mom’s. Figured I’d try it myself.”

“That so?” you cock a brow at Big Buck.

He shrugs, “It’s true. Haven’t tried a pie that tastes as creamy and delicious as my ma’s, well, until I tried yours, sweetcheeks,” he gives you a wink and you sigh.

“Yeah. Okay, whatever,” you look over your shoulder and holler, “Sharon! Can you c’mere please?”

Sharon steps out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, “Yeah?” she cautiously eyes Big Buck and the blonde.

“I got some stuff to finish up so can you serve Big Buck and his friend-”

“Steve.”

“Huh?” you look at him and you see he’s suddenly blushing.

“M-My name is Steve.”

“...yeah..okay. Anyway, can you serve Big Buck and Steve while I finish up what I gotta do?”

Sharon nods, her fingers nervously fiddling with her apron around her waist, “Yeah. Sure. You got it, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you mumble as you give her a reassuring pat, a silent good luck. You walk behind the counter and to the cash register, opening it up and beginning to count your earnings. You hear someone clear their throat and you look up to see Big Buck standing there, “What now?”

He chuckles as he sits onto a nearby stool, “Long day, sweetcheeks?”

“Yes, and I have a name, you know.”

“That I do know, but sweetcheeks fits you well.”

“’Cause of my sweet ass,” you scoff out.

He shakes his head, “Nah. ‘Cause of that adorable face of yours,” he pokes at your cheek and you swat his hand away, “But yeah, your ass is lookin’ sweet too.”

“Whatever. Why’re you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be with your-I don’t even know who he is-your friend? Your minion?”

“He’s my best friend and right hand, but to answer your question, I came here for him, yeah, but not what you think.”

“Oh?” you ask somewhat intrigued but you didn’t want him to know that, so it came out disinterested and plain.

“Think he’s a bit soft on your waitress there. The blonde-”

“Sharon-”

“Yeah, Sharon. Saw him ogling at her when we were here yesterday. Thought I’d give him the opportunity to meet her himself.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you mumbled softly, eyes still focused on counting the money.

You hear Bucky chuckle, “Yeah. Steve and I grew up together. He’s my brother. That punk was a small, skinny, sickly kid. Was always in and out of bed, but he loved to pick fights. Whenever there was a kid messing on someone else, Steve always had to step in, even though he knew he’d lose. Course, he’s my best friend, so I had to jump in and help him. Do you know how many times I’ve gotten in trouble ‘cause of that punk? Way too many!” he lets out a laugh and you find yourself laughing with him.

Both of you then stop when you realize what you’re doing. You pull in your lips and go back to counting, “That’s-uh-I think that’s sweet of you to have done. Even though you knew you’d end up getting just as hurt and in trouble.”

“Someone had to look after him. His mom, bless her soul, fought tooth and nail for him. Ended up working herself too hard and she got sick. Steve was orphaned when he was ten. My parents adopted him after.”

“So when you say he’s your brother-”

“I mean it in every sense of the way. I’d do anything for him, even drag him to a diner where I know I’m not welcome,” he says softly, looking down at his twiddling thumbs.

There’s a silent pause between you. His words struck a chord in you. You always had this philosophy of treating everyone with respect no matter who they are or what they look like. Yet here you are being a hypocrite.

You sigh, setting the money back into the register and looking up at Big Buck, “Why did you come back today? This morning and now? I mean, I’m sure you didn’t have to escort Steve back here just so he could talk to Sharon.”

He scoffed, “Trust me, sweetcheeks, I had to,” he licked his lips and scoot closer to you in his seat, “And to answer your question, I did mean it when I said I wanted to eat..but I also wanted to see you again. You got this fire in ya and it’s so-I don’t know-refreshing? People see me and they cower in fear, and yeah, that’s on me. But you? You walked right up to me and kicked me outta here. It was amusing, ‘cause you got guts, kid, but it was also admirable.

“I get it. This is your place of business and you didn’t want my shit to fuck it all up. That’s understandable.”

“And yet you still come by.”

“I don’t plan on bringing of my dirty shit here, Y/N. I promise you that,” he reaches across the counter and gently places his hand on top of yours, “I just wanted to try your food and maybe get to know you a bit more. No one has ever stood up to me like you did and it was fucking awesome to see you do that.”

Bucky’s words have you frozen. Not only did he sound genuine, but the fact that he actually said your name caught you off guard.

“You’re not lookin’ to fuck and dump me right? Like, there’s no game you’re playing right now?”

He shakes his head, “No games. Promise. I just-I don’t know-I think you’d be a good friend is all. Don’t gotta be anything like sleeping with each other and shit. Although, I wouldn’t oppose it,” he says with a chuckle, “But just friends is fine.” he senses your hesitance and lets out a sigh, pulling his hand back, “But I understand if you don’t wanna. I got a lot of bad shit connected to me and I know you don’t wanna get connected to all that.” he pats the counter and gets up with a grunt. He begins to walk away but stops when you call for him.

“I-I guess we could be friends?”

He nods gratefully, “Great, Friends. And call me Bucky. All my friends do.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #chubby!bucky #marvel #au #mob au

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babbushka · 5 years

Text

Blue Moon (2/?)

New York, 1987. The air was filled with smog and the streets were ridden with crime. Just another day in paradise. Your quiet life turns upside down when a striking man moves in across from you. You’re falling, fast, into a love that could never, ever, happen…or could it?

Howdy y’all I’ve been really obsessed with this and couldn’t stop writing for it so!! Here’s chapter 2 of my Pale (from Burn This) x Reader fic! Also can be read as modern!kylo au for those who don’t know who Pale is lol

(Minor backstory/character spoilers for Pale!!)

Word Count: 4700

Warnings: N*FW (language, explicit material, drug use)

Chapter 2: No Promises

Pale had left after breakfast. He had needed to go to work, he put his dirty dishes in your sink. He smacked your ass and kissed you deeply, ate you out and left without a goodbye.

You had still been naked.

He didn’t say thank you for breakfast, for anything.

Then again, you didn’t expect him to. You didn’t really expect anything from him, how could you? That fucking wedding ring on his finger made you feel bad. You wondered if it was okay to ask for his phone number. You wondered if he even had a phone.

It wasn’t raining today, but you needed to bring Fishel back his umbrella. It wasn’t raining, but it wasn’t sunny either. You put on a pair of sunglasses anyway, wore a turtleneck. You needed to cover up the dark red splotches he had sucked into your skin.

You tried not to think about him at work. It was harder now that you had had his cock in you, had been fucked blind by him. You hadn’t slept at all, he kept you up the whole fucking night with that big dick and those big hands and that hot mouth of his. The bastard.

Didn’t your friend say he worked in the restaurant business? You wondered what he did. He looked like he belonged in the mob, not in a restaurant, with all that leather. You probably wouldn’t ask him any time soon, something about him said he didn’t like questions.

You could respect that, you didn’t really like them either. If he wanted to tell you, he’d tell you.

It was still early enough in the day that you were serving coffee. You had your regulars, Marty from the deli downstairs, Candace from the nail salon. Some truck drivers named Mac or Mike or Mark, you didn’t know. They all sounded the same and looked the same, big guys with flannel shirts and baseball caps, but they smiled at you and you smiled back and they left you nice tips.

The coffee was shitty before you started working there. You didn’t have a standard for much, aside from coffee. Fishel didn’t drink the stuff, you couldn’t believe that, but he had no idea it was bad. You came along, got a job there a couple years ago, and made him change brands. It was scorched before, but now people came in just because the smell was so good.

It was hard to find good coffee these days.

You were pouring coffee when the little bell on the door rang.

“Good morning!” You had said, not bothering to look at who it was. “I’ll be with ya in just a sec.”

“Take your time, I’m in no fuckin’ rush.” A deep voice said, making you still.

You came this close to spilling the coffee, overflowing it in Blanche’s cup.

Pale seated himself in one of the booths in the back. Folks weren’t supposed to seat themselves at the diner.

He looked like he had showered at least, that was good. He looked good.

You nodded to Blanche, made your way over to Pale’s booth.

“Morning honey.” He said, without a care in the world, striking up a cigarette. He pushed the table a little aways from him, patted his lap. “C’mere.”

You knew you shouldn’t – it was inappropriate, someone could see, not that anyone could actually probably see if they wanted to, the way the booth was shoved in a corner behind a plant, you could suck his dick and no one would know. Maybe you would suck his dick.

You sat on his lap, sitting sideways. One of his hands immediately went to grip you inner thigh.

“How come you’re not at work?” You asked, looping your arms around his neck. You kissed at his cheek, his ear, his neck. Worried the gold chain between your teeth for a little bit.

His hand wedged itself between your thighs, snuck down to your pussy and was teasing at the folds there. He didn’t shove his fingers into you or anything, not yet anyway. Your heart was beating fast, anyone could turn their heads and see.

Someone might have needed coffee and asked for you, and they’d see.

“I was drivin’ down eighth street – what a load of fucking shit that road is – in my fucking car trying to find a god damned parking space, when a cop pulls me the fuck over and says I’m speeding. I say, how am I speedin’, there’s no fucking sign telling me how fast to go. He gives me a ticket, made me late to work. I called up Jerry, you know Jerry?” He asked, but you shake your head, trying not to moan as he rubs at you, makes you wet. “Anyway I call Jerry and I tell the jackass that I’m gonna be late, but he tells me he’s closing up the fucking place for the day anyway. Something about his fucking anniversary, wants to spend it with his wife, like I give a shit. Who the fuck closes down a place of business for an entire fucking day to celebrate an anniversary? Not me I tell you that, I’ve never taken a single day of work in over five fucking years – anniversaries.”

“So you’re off today?” You asked, a little breathy.

“Didn’t you hear me? Yeah I’m off today.” He frowned.

“Are you high?” You asked again.

“I might’ve done a couple lines.” He sniffed. You kissed his nose.

He pulled his hand away from your pussy, sucked on the fingers with a loud pop. Your cheeks heated up, he let go of you. You still stayed on his lap.

“What are you thinking about? I’m a real good listener.” He said, turning your jaw to look him deep in the eyes. Oh yeah he was high, you could tell by his pupils, blown wide open.

“I’m thinking about how you found me.” You hummed, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Happenstance.” He smirked.

“You sure about that?” You smiled at him, and he licked his teeth. Smoked his cigarette.

“Yeah I’m fuckin’ sure.” He said, then gesturing to the empty mug on his table, “Give me a cup of coffee.”

You rolled your eyes, slid off his lap, and grabbed the coffee pot from the little warming plate you had shoved it on, on your way Pale’s booth. He watched you walk back over, watched you pour the coffee, watched you bend over to grab a napkin when you accidentally spilled some onto the table. You didn’t like coffee rings. You wanted to show off your tits.

Pale downed the coffee in four long gulps, you refilled it.

“I’m surprised you came into a diner in the first place, considering.” You said.

You had thought you fed him enough that morning, between the breakfast and then when he laid you out on the kitchen table and buried his face in your cunt once the dishes were in the sink.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you. Over the clothes this time, as you were standing in front of his booth with a hand on your hip, the other one holding the coffee pot. He reached over to you and had wrapped a big warm hand around your thigh, was trailing his fingers up the back of it, making you shiver.

What was he doing here?

“I saw you in the fucking window, can you fuckin’ believe that? Drivin’ by on the way back to my apartment after Jerry said he was closing the fuckin’ restaurant, stuck at a red fucking light and what do I see in the window? I saw your pretty fucking face and pull over. Watched you walk back and forth, and back and forth. Pouring coffee, serving pancakes, back and fucking forth. Taking orders wiping down the bar making fucking milkshakes back and fucking forth. Don’t you ever sit down? Made me dizzy. Had to pull over.” He said, exhaling smoke. It curled around the window, you saw his car out in the parking lot.

It was a nice car, a shiny black thing. You didn’t know the make or model or nothing, but it was the only one that was washed in the whole lot.

His hand creeped up your ass, you shimmied away. He grabbed your wrist and brought it to his lips, biting lightly, making you smile.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble.” You said, making him scoff.

“What, never been in any fuckin’ trouble before?” He asked, leaning back into the booth. You wanted to ride him. “Some trouble would do you good.”

“I’m a good girl.” You said instead, feeling very much the opposite.

That made him smile.

“What’s your name?” He asked, and you smiled back.

You walked away, you had customers you had to serve.

Pale stayed for two hours. Didn’t order anything but the coffee, didn’t touch you the whole rest of the time he was there. He just sat and smoked and watched you. He looked like he was on edge, you wondered if he didn’t know what to do with himself, being off work for the day. Not a day off in five years, he had said, right? He chucked a couple dimes in the jukebox, didn’t play nothing too obnoxious.

He left fifty bucks on the table when he left. Two twenties and a ten. You didn’t want it, despite needing it. Something in you didn’t want his hand-outs. You’d take his dick, you’d hog his time, but you wouldn’t just take his money. You were a lot of things, but you weren’t that. You barely knew him.

You knew him a lot better than you knew half the people in this diner.

You brought it to the register, paid the dollar ninety-nine for the coffee, and took the rest back to the kitchen where Fishel was working.

“Here,” You said, handing him the bills. “Some big shot told me to keep the change.” You weren’t in the mood to make this something it wasn’t.

Fishel made a face at the money, didn’t take it from you when you held it out to him.

“Why are you givin’ it to me?” He asked, “You earned it.”

“Nah Fish, he only got a cup of coffee.” You said, making him look up at you with his eyebrows raised.

“And he left you fifty bucks?” He clicked his tongue, whistled low, “Jeez sweetheart, that is some big shot.”

“Please take the money, Fish.” You sighed, not wanting him to think it was something it wasn’t. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t anything. “Split it up between the other waitresses, I don’t care. I don’t want it.”

“Was he bein’ mean to you?” Fishel frowned, the lines in his forehead getting all deep. Sometimes you thought about how old Fish was.

“No, he was real sweet.” You said, pausing for a minute and then trying your best not to sound suspect when you asked, “Didn’t you see him?”

“How could I have seen anyone (Y/N), I’ve been back here all day.” Fishel laughed, a low throaty thing.

“He wasn’t mean.” You reassured him. “Is Maria coming in tonight?”

He wiped his hands on the little towel over his shoulder, took the money from you and tucked it into your apron pocket. You smiled.

“No, she had to cancel.” He said apologetically, “Can you cover for her?”

“Yeah why not.” You shrugged.

“Thanks sweetheart.” Fishel said, going back into the office for a little bit.

It might be good for you to work the double, get some distance. You didn’t think your headboard could take it if Pale fucked you into next week like he had.

You went back out to the front and poured coffee.

You were dead on your feet by the time you were pushing the key into the lock of your front door, absolutely exhausted from work. You were grateful for the long days and the tips that came with them, but your legs were cramping and your back hurt and all you wanted was to have your soup and get some fucking sleep.

You closed the door behind you, dropped your bag right on the welcome mat and kicked your shoes off.

It was so quiet in your building, you could hear the last bits of traffic outside, the honking horns, the sirens. There were always sirens these days, people needed to stop calling the cops, you thought.

“You got a really shitty apartment, you know that?” A voice from the other room made you jump.

Pale was sitting on the couch in your living room, smoking a cigarette. From the looks of the ashtray on your coffee table, he had been there a while.

“Thanks.” You said dryly, then, “What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question, exhaling smoke through his nose making your apartment all cloudy. He ran a hand through his hair, and then waved it around at the room.

“Could use, I don’t know, some fucking flowers. Or something.” He commented, making you roll your eyes. “Some furniture.”

You had exactly enough furniture for what you needed, thank you very fucking much.

You shrugged off your coat and hung it on the hook by the door, inspecting the doorknob. It didn’t look damaged from this side or anything like that.

“How did you get in?” You asked, returning to the living room.

Pale smirked, stretched out his long legs and cracked the joints in his knees. He was looking at you with that same hungry expression as always, and you already felt your stomach start to flutter.

“Your lock ain’t too hard to jimmy, sweetheart.” He almost chuckled, quirked an eyebrow at you and took another drag.

“Did you break it?” You wanted to kiss him.

“Didn’t have to.” Pale shoved the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray and spread his legs, patting one of his thighs. “Come here, I’ve had a stressful fucking day.”

You had had one too, and you almost wanted to point it out, but you went anyway. Straddling his thighs on your old leather couch in your shitty apartment felt good. Kissing him and having him stick his hand under your skirt, fingers pull aside your panties and shove themselves into your cunt felt even better.

He smirked at the little noises you were making, the sharp intakes of breath.

“Don’t go shy on me you whore,” He said when you whined, “You ain’t at work now, let me fucking hear you, come on.”

He bit down on your nipple over your clothes at the same time as he pressed hard on your clit, dragging his thumb over it roughly. You cried out then, loud. It made him groan, he did it again.

His hands were so big, it spanned almost the entirety of your face when he grabbed at your jaw, took his fingers out of your pussy and smeared them over your lips, sticking them in your mouth so you could suck them clean.

“Blow me.” He said, and you slid off his lap easily, only wincing a little when your knees hit the floor.

Kneeling in front of him, you opened his pants and pulled his cock out. There was no way you were fitting that fucking thing down your throat tonight, but you could get in a decent amount. You thought about what he had said the night before, about training you to take his dick.

You wanted to be good for him, maybe he’d be good for you too. He wouldn’t, you knew he wouldn’t, but maybe.

Holding it in both of your hands, you swirled your tongue around the head of his oozing cock. You lapped up the pre-come there, sucked on it with enough pressure to make Pale tip his head back against your couch, fist your hair tight. He forced you down onto it more, making you gag, tears coming to your eyes out of reflex.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He grunted, as you choked on his cock.

Your hands flew up to his thighs to steady yourself, you could feel the muscle there tensing under your touch. He was thrusting into your throat, pushing his slick and your spit against the roof of your mouth. You were careful to watch your teeth.

His grip on your hair tightened. It hurt your scalp, but you couldn’t pull away to bitch about it. You were sweating, working hard to get him riled up, to make him feel good.

Your hands made up for whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth, jerking him off in a way that made those thighs twitch. Occasionally you rolled his balls, and he almost kneed you in the face. How would you have explained that black eye?

“I can’t fucking wait to get my cock in you after this.” He breathed out, and something like pride filled your chest.

You could tell you were doing a good job, switching from sucking to just opening your mouth as much as you could to let him fuck your throat was easy enough, but every now and again he would get too enthusiastic and pull out too far, slipping out of your mouth.

You took those moments to lick from the base of his dick to the very tip, trace your tongue under the head, in his slit. He cursed loud when you did that, hips pushing up into your face. You did it again, and again until he was panting.

Without any warning he yanked your head off of him just in time to paint come all over your face.

You stayed on the ground, on your knees for a minute, looked up at him through your lashes. You could feel his sticky come on your cheek, licked up what you could. Your muscles were sore.

“Do you like baths?” You asked. He had said he had a stressful day, maybe he could use one as much as you could.

“How’s that?” He blinked, too blissed out for the moment.

“Taking a bath, do you like to?” You repeated.

“Sometimes.” He shrugged.

You got up off of your knees, started taking your clothes off, right there in the living room. You could feel Pale’s stare burning into your skin.

“Take one with me?” You asked.

“Can I fuck you there?” He asked back.

“You can fuck me wherever you want.” You smiled, standing completely naked before him. He looked like he wanted to jump you, and you wouldn’t be that opposed to that, “But I’d like to take a bath.”

“So then let’s take a fucking bath.” Pale said, getting up too.

You smiled again and walked to the bathroom, Pale close behind you. He kept a hand on you, didn’t like to let go. It made your stomach do those stupid flips again.

“Jesus you really don’t got any fucking furniture, huh?” Pale asked, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom as you went to plug the tub.

You shot him a dirty look, and he put his hands up in defense.

You had exactly a sink, a toilet, and a bathtub, what the hell else did he expect you to have?

“This thing leaks.” He noted, when you turned on the faucet, dropped in some soap to make it bubble up.

“That’s what all the towels are for.” You gestured to the bunched up towels around the claw feet of the bathtub.

When the tub was as full as it was gonna get, he went in first. You had tried to judge the water level so it wouldn’t spill all over the fucking place when the two of you were in it together, but when you climbed in after him some sloshed over the edge anyway.

Whatever, you had the towels.

Pale sat with his knees up, rested his head against one edge of the tub. You sat on his lap facing him, your back resting against his knees. He looked at you for a long time, lifted his hand to rub bubbles against your tits.

“You look like you got mauled.” He commented, and you laughed.

“Yeah, a wild animal got me.” You teased.

“Hey I ain’t no wild fuckin’ animal.” He sat up a little, making you fall against his chest for support. “Didn’t you see the present I left ya?” He asked, kissing you, making you hot.

“Oh we’re giving gifts now?” You acted innocent, but your smile gave you away. The money was in your coat pocket, on the floor in the living room. Maybe you could sneak it back into his wallet without him noticing.

He kissed you again, slid his tongue against yours as he grabbed you around your waist and groaned when you reached down and guided his hard cock into you, sinking down on it.

“Shit.” He hissed, making you grin.

You planted your knees on the bottom of the tub, held on to his shoulders as you rode him.

The hot water loosened up your muscles, made you relaxed. He thrust up into you easy, you moaned like a whore for him.

“Been fucking looking forward to this pussy all day.” He grunted. Water sloshed onto the floor as he bucked up into you.

“Oh yeah?” You gasped, feeling those butterflies again.

“Yeah.” He slid his hands up from your waist to grope at your tits, spread the soapy bubbles around and pinched at your nipples. “You didn’t fucking come home when I thought you would, you slut.”

So he had been waiting a while, you thought. You didn’t have much room for thought, not when you bounced on his cock like that.

“Not my fault, had to work a double.” You moaned out, let your head fall back. Your hair got all wet in the tub.

“I don’t fucking like it.” He grumbled, taking advantage of that to suck another mark on your neck. You whined, he sucked harder.

“You don’t have to.” You said, tangling a hand in his hair.

The wetness from your hand dampened his waves, made them flatten down against his head, made his ears stick out.

You nibbled on one of his ears, you thought they were sweet. Was just about the only fucking sweet thing about him, you thought.

He fucked you in the bathtub for a long while, sloshing water all over and panting against your lips. Hot, open mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulders, spitting out the soap when it got in his mouth. He loved to lay back and watch, always watching you. You liked putting on a show for him, you preened under his stare.

He came in you, stayed there for a bit. You wiggled your hips, impatient, you wanted to get off too.

“I’m too big for this fucking tub.” He said with a pleased sigh.

“Me too.” You licked your lips, “Bed?”

Pale fucked you into your mattress, your headboard smacking into the wall. You were gonna get a call from your neighbors, if that didn’t do it then your loud moans would.

You liked it when he was on top, the weight of him pressing you down. You liked it when he wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezed just enough to make you moan and not say or do much else.

He lifted your thigh up with his other hand, held it in place as he fucked into you hard, pushed you up on the bed with his thrusts. You were so close, so so close, all you needed was a little bit more and you could come and pass the fuck out and go to sleep.

You were glad you didn’t have work tomorrow, you didn’t know if you could’ve managed to stand after this.

“You like that you fucking slut?” He pressed down harder on your throat as he railed you, made you see stars.

“Yeah, Pale – yes!” You gasped when he let up enough for you to gulp down air.

He was sweating, so fucking sweaty from all the hard work he was doing, making you feel good. It dripped off the ends of his hair, his nose, his chain. You thought he’d need another bath when he was done with you, if he was ever done with you.

“Say it.” He grunted, baring his teeth.

“I’m a – a slut.” You hiccupped, having to breathe and speak and moan all at the same time.

“Who’s slut?” He gripped your thigh tight, it was gonna bruise, fuck you were gonna be just one big bruise.

“Your slut!” You cried out.

“That’s fucking right.” He licked at your open mouth, your teeth. “You’re my slut and this is my cunt.” He bit your lips, your jawline.

His hips snapped at each word, and you clenched down around him, remembering what he told you last night.

“Please, Pale, please touch me.” You begged, you couldn’t help but beg, your voice a high whine.

He nodded, wordlessly let go of your thigh to rub at your clit, press down on it until you were seeing stars, cursing loud in his ear.

He liked that, you could tell. You liked it too.

“Come in me.” You gasped.

He bared his teeth again, moaned as you went all pliant and relaxed from your orgasm.

You laid there, took his cock so well, pushed the sweaty hair out of his face and sucked on his tongue as his hips pushed you up and up the bed, until they stopped, and he had his face all pinched up, until it wasn’t.

You were both breathing heavy, he was this close to resting his forehead against yours. His hair fell in his face, you pushed it back behind his ears. He frowned.

He stayed in you, even as he went soft, finally spent for the night. He was heavy, but you didn’t mind. Fucked up part of you felt safe; being caged in by his arms, his wide back protecting you from the moonlight.

He was so sweaty, so warm. Was a person supposed to be this warm?

“I got two kids, you know.” He said apropos of nothing.

“I didn’t.” You said, your heart beating.

Cop sirens were blaring in the distance, you thought that was a bit dramatic.

He slid out of you, rolled over and settled down on his back next to you.

He leaned over, opened a drawer of your bedside table and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. You frowned, you didn’t smoke. He must have put them there. You wondered what the hell else he hid in your apartment when you weren’t here. Maybe you’d go on a treasure hunt tomorrow, you thought.

“You need a new fucking tub, one that doesn’t leak water all over the god damned place and that actually fucking fits a human.” Pale said, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, sighing out smoke. “I work hard, I got a lot of money, I could get you a new fucking tub. You need one.”

“I like my bathtub.” You smiled.

“What, did you fuckin’ build it yourself?” Pale asked, sarcastically pinching your cheek, making you smile bigger.

“Somethin’ like that.” You said, stretching. You shuffled around on the bed, tucked yourself against him. You didn’t know if that was allowed, but you did it anyway. He let you, anyway. “I’m off work tomorrow.”

“Good.” He said, and you hummed in agreement.

“I know you gotta work.” You said. No days off.

“Yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He looked tired, you wondered if he had had any more coke since when he was at the diner. You wondered if he’d fall asleep with you.

“Will you stop by?” You asked. You didn’t want to piss him off again by not being home if he was gonna pay you a visit. Not that you were gonna leave the apartment anyway.

“No promises.” He said, but the way his lip twitched into an almost smile said otherwise.

You laid your head down on his chest, fell asleep to him smoking his cigarette.

He wasn’t there when you woke up. Of course he wasn’t.

Ahh! Lol that’s it for this one :) The next chapter is from Pale’s perspective, so be on the lookout for that sometime early next week! <33

Tagging some pals! As always, if you’d like to be added or taken off the list please just shoot me a message! @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam@dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain@bourbonboredom @driverficarchive@aweirdlookingtree@rosalynbair@redhairedfeistynerd@adamsnackdriver @glitzescape@arwarz @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem@fallin-for-youreyes @kylo-renne @reyloaddict55

#reader insert #pale x reader #kylo ren x reader #burn this #burn this broadway #adam driver x reader #blue moon #my writing #edit: fixed some dumb typos lol

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vegafiction · 6 years

Note

Overdose for lance, voltron?

Count: ~2.8kPairing(s): KlanceChara(s): Lance-centric, ft. PaladinsFandom: VoltronPrompt: OverdoseWarning(s): Drug abuse, overdosing, langst

I don’t know why this turned out to be so long but, I hope it’s enjoyable?? I didn’t edit it too much because I spent nearly 4 hours on it. My brain was tired of staring at it lmao. I think this ficlet comes across more like addiction than overdose BUT WE’LL JUST ROLL WITH IT!

I would like to formally apologize to Coran for not only being unable to write him but for putting him through this.

Part One: Chronic Pain

Get your bingo card @badthingshappenbingo

Lance slid the empty pill bottle across the table and into Coran’s line of sight. He flashed the older Altean engineer his most charming smile.“I need a refill.”Coran inspected the empty case. He ruffled his mustache for a moment, stroking it with careful movement until the silence stretched far longer than Lance felt comfortable with. Coran was usually a man who wore his heart in his sleeves, Lance didn’t have difficulty trying to figure out what went through his head, but lately, it’s been hard. Then again, Lance found a lot of things difficult through the haze pain medication that coursed through his veins.“Does your arm still hurt?” The Altean asked instead. “I watched the team training today. Your movements were exceptional if a little… sluggish.”“Oh, yeah! My arm wakes me up in the middle of sleeping sometimes, so I was just, you know, drained.” He grinned widely. “But I stayed focused! I’ve been doing the exercises you taught me. The medicine makes it possible.”Coran gazed into his eyes steadily. “Hm, yes,” He drawled. “Okay Lance, I’ll fill it up, but its one pill a day. Even if the pain returns and you feel like it’s gonna fall off, it’s just one!”He refilled the bottle as he spoke, unaware of the way Lance’s blue eyes hyper-focused on the carton of medicine. He sealed the carton, placed it back onto the high shelf and reset the protection lock for safe keeping. Lance refocused on Coran, his smile strained as the royal advisor held out the replenished container to him.

“Thanks, Coran, I—“ The weight of the medicine was light in his grasp. He turned the container over in his palm and counted the number of pastel pink pills.Frustration clawed in his chest.“You’re only giving me ten?” (He tried to keep the anger down in his voice, but wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job of keeping it off his face. “You gave me twenty last time.”“Twenty pills for twenty quintants.” He explained, his kind eyes oddly sharp. “It’s only been two movements since you woke up from your coma, Lance. What happened to the rest?”“I already told you, the pain comes back when I’m asleep!” He snapped.Coran’s red brows furrowed worriedly.“Lance,” he began gently. Lance poured the pills back into the container and hastily screw on the top. “I understand you may be struggling to come to terms with what happened but—““I don’t need a lecture right now! I get that enough from everyone in this castle, I don’t need to hear it from you.” He pocketed the medication. “Thank you for your help, Coran, but I can manage myself from here.” He headed toward the door.“I won’t give you another refill!” Coran called after him.Lance froze in front of the door, a sense of frustration, rage, and fear bubbled in his chest like a brewing storm. He grumbled under his breath and marched out of the infirmary without a look back.Coran shook his head, heavily troubled.

Lance’s thoughts raced as he dodged an attack from one of the training drones. Ten pills weren’t going to cut it. Even now, despite having downed two pills after his unpleasant encounter in the infirmary, Lance could still feel the trace of pain deep in his skin.Today, he’d meant to practice shooting. He still found it uncomfortable to pull the trigger of his rifle without the twinge of pain, but Coran’s refusal played like a broken record in his mind. The red bayard shifted into the altean broadsword and he charged toward the drone, slashing away at its robotic parts.His shoulder erupted into pain. He hissed, suddenly infuriated. How was it possible he could still feel pain? He could barely feel the hilt of the sword in his hand!I’m not taking enough. He reasoned. He charged into another drone, swinging his sword. I need more!Distracted by his angry, anxious thoughts, Lance failed to see the other training drone until it slammed its weapon down across his back. Pain ignited his nerves, blinding his thoughts. Another drone kicked the sword right out of Lance’s hand, sending it flying across the training room and shoved the hilt of its own weapon into Lance’s solar plexus.The blue paladin crumbled to the ground, wheezing.The drones immediately deactivated, freezing in place around him like a statistic mob about to crucify him. Through the tears in his eyes, Lance gazed into the worried face of Shiro.“That was some beating,” He held out his hand to Lance. “You’ve really improved with your swordsmanship. Have you been training with Keith?”Lance climbed to his feet with Shiro’s help. He wiped the dust from his clothes, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed for having lost himself in his rage.“Yeah, when he can.” He rubbed his right arm, resisting the urge to grimace in front of his hero. He plastered on a bright smile for Shiro’s sake. “What’s up, Shiro? Did you need me for anything?”“I was hoping for some of your “world famous” milkshakes.”Lance blinked, surprised. “Aren’t you lactose intolerant?”“Yes.”“…won’t you…get sick?”Shiro’s smile was amicable. “I’m willing to suffer for a little taste of Earth.”Lance raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Fair enough. Let me just change and we’ll go visit Kaltencker.”

Lance couldn’t feel his face, though he was absolutely sure he had one. He sucked on freshly made milkshake through a large straw Hunk had been lucky enough to find on their last trip to the space mall. He watched Shiro swirl the straw around in his cup before taking another swing of what will ultimately destroy his intestines in ten doboshes.He seemed quite pleased with Lance’s work. He drained the white substance of liquid death until Shiro was left with nothing but whipped cream and whatever remained of the space fruits Lance had used to make their shakes.“Any last words?” The Cuban teased.“Actually, yes. I wanted to talk to you about your training with the others today.”Lance tore his eyes away from his drink. He found Shiro’s unwavering dark eyes peering into his own. It was unsettling.“Yeah? Coran said he was impressed I was recovering so fast. I mean, of course, I would. It’s me after all.” Lance rattled nervously. He occupied himself by twirling his smoothie straw in circles. “I basically almost have full function in my hand again. I should be good enough to go back on missions with you guys.” He stared back at Shiro with a hopeful gaze. “You guys probably don’t even really need me, but… let me at least make up for it!”“Lance, what happened to you wasn’t your fault. You saved those people’s lives at the risk of your own. We’re all proud of you and we’re happy you’re still with us. But, I’m not the one who can make the call.” He sighed. “Coran is worried about you. We’re all worried.”“Worried about what? I’m fine.”Shiro’s eyes bore into his own. “Are you? You were unfocused during the training session today. And earlier, you seemed angry.”Lance gripped his cup tightly, uncomfortable with Shiro’s questions and frustrated with himself for his inability to do anything right. He felt the sharp ache of his arm flare up. He couldn’t hide his grimace.“Lance?”“I’m doing my best to get better.” He said, his voice hard. “I’m getting there! Just… give me a chance.”Shiro’s expressionmorphed into something akin to pain. It took Lance a second to realize why his hero looked so uncomfortable. Shiro excused himself from the kitchen and tried to hurry out of the room with his dignity intact. (He ended up booting around the corner before Lance could say a word).

He downed three pills with a gulp of water in the hopes of silencing the aches and pains of his body. He felt the weightlessness of the medication kick in minutes after consumption and plopped himself into bed.The thoughts that whirled in his mind slowed to a standstill. He gazed into the ceiling, not quite comprehending what he was seeing, but feeling more at peace with himself than ever before.Slowly, his body grew numb as he struggled to fight against the heavyweights that were his eyelids.

Lance snapped back to reality with a loud gasp. He bolted upright in bed and desperately scrambled to pull away the sheets wrapped around his body until all his limbs were free.Standing a foot away from his bed was Keith. He was dressed in paladin gear, helmet in hand, while his eyes fixated on Lance with an expression that stung worse than Coran giving him a lecture.“Wh-what happened?!” Lance gasped. “Why are you in paladin gear?”“The Castle of Lions was attacked while you slept,” Keith answered, his voice carefully controlled. “We tried waking you up, but you weren’t responding.”The Blue Paladin gulped, throat dry. He found it difficult to keep Keith’s gaze, guilt reared its ugly head in his chest.“Is everyone okay?”“Yeah. Luckily we didn’t need to form Voltron, but Red wasn’t cooperating with any of my commands.”“Well, I mean, you did leave it for the Black Lion.” Lance tried to joke. Keith didn’t look amused.“Lance, Red kept trying to return to the Castle as we fought. Do you know why?”He didn’t. His brain wasn’t processing correctly. He side eyed the pill bottle on the shelf and tried to recall how many he had taken so far and how long ago was his last dose.Keith moved into his line of sight. His expression was no longer hard but filled with worry.“It’s because he sensed you were in trouble. Coran told us about your outburst. You slept through the ship’s attack and didn’t respond to anything I said or did.” The Red Paladin heaved a heavy sigh. “Lance, I’m cutting you off.”Lance felt his whole body grow cold. He stared into Keith’s pained eyes with an expression of pure disbelief.Rage exploded in his veins.He shot to his feet just as Keith moved toward his shelf.“You can’t do that!” He practically screamed. “My arm still hurts! You can’t take away the only thing that works!”“I’m doing what needs to be done,” Keith answered harshly. He snatched the nearly empty bottle from the shelf, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Coran said he gave you ten pills for ten days.” He shook the bottle. “You only have three left.”“So what?! He gave it to me ages ago!”“It’s barely been twenty-four hours, Lance!” Keith made his way to the door. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you kill yourself like this. I love you too much to bear that.”Lance chased after him into the hall. He grabbed onto the bottle with desperation and tried to pull it free from Keith’s grasp.“Lance, stop!”“It’s just medicine! They’re not going to kill me!”“Do you even hear yourself?!” Keith ripped the bottle away from Lance’s hands. The momentum of his pull launched the container from Keith’s grasp. They watched it clatter to the ground, the force of its fall snapped open the lid and the trio of pills scattered across the castle halls.Lance bolted.Keith wrapped his arms around the slender boy’s waist and pinned him down, ignoring the almost inhuman screaming of an addict’s desperation.“Stop it, Lance! Stop it! Stop it!” Keith cried.Lance bucked beneath Keith’s weight, desperate for the last remnants of the only things that kept the pain away. He clawed the ground; could already feel the traces of his previous dose slip from his mind.Suddenly, Lance was hoisted from the ground. He could make out Shiro’s voice amidst his yelling but the former Black Paladin’s words didn’t register.The brown delicate hand of Allura’s came into his field of vision. His instincts slipped into overdrive. He tried to kick away his captors, but the tips of his fingers rested against his forehead and then—He was gone.

Coran slammed his fist against the wall in a rare display of anger. He heaved a heavy sigh then carefully rubbed his hand in an effort to assuage the pain away.Princess Allura cleared her throat, uncomfortable.“So, what do we do?” Keith asked once it was obvious no one had anything to say. “Stick him back into the healing pod and hope for the best?”“The healing pods cannot heal what is mental,” Allura said, her voice soft. “The best we can do is wean him off the medication, abruptly if possible.”“Like going cold turkey?” Hunk chimed in.Allura seemed perplexed by the expression but nodded nevertheless.“I should’ve been more careful,” Coran said, remorseful. “I should have given him the smallest possible dose and monitored his consumption. Xoralax was a highly sought after substance in the black market. I shouldn’t have assumed it wouldn’t be the case here.”“It’s alright, Coran. You couldn’t have known.”“Do you have more of the stuff?” Pidge asked, her brows furrowed. “If we’re going to ween Lance off of the medication, we should make sure he can’t get his hands on more.”“Not to worry, the rest are securely locked up in the infirmary and protected by a passcode!”Keith turned to Coran and asked, “Does Lance know the passcode?”“Absolutely not! All the substances in the infirmary are protected by a glass barrier. If anything happens to it, an alarm will—“Coran’s voice was drowned out by the ear-piercing wail of an alarm system. The rest of the paladins clasped their hands against their ears but Coran stood frozen in place. He bolted out of the room before the others could question him. Keith followed in his tracks.

“Lance!”Coran burst into the medical bay, steeling himself for the worst. Lance was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to gather the scattered Xoralaxpills. he must have dropped the box in his attempt to steal them.Coran rushed to the boy, eyeballing his pale skin tone and the beads of sweat that dotted his brow. He noticed the way Lance’s fingers quaked as though he wore cold. He tried to lift the boy from the ground, but Lance resisted.“No, no, no, I need it! I need it! Let me go, Coran!” He screamed.Coran forced Lance to stare into his eyes. His heart sank.His pupils were blown.“You don’t need any more of this, Lance. You need medical attention! Let me—“ He tried to move him again but Lance shoved his elbow into the older man’s gut and scrambled away.Keith rushed into the room before Lance could even think about escaping. He was joined immediately by Shiro and Hunk. Allura hurried to Coran’s side, checking for wounds, but he assured her he was unwounded.Pidge hung back by the door, too stunned to say a word. Too terrified to move.Lance lashed out at his family. He crawled toward the pile of pills and tried to collect as many as he could until Shiro and Hunk grabbed his arms and pinned them against his back. He wailed in despair.“Let me go! Let me go! LET ME GO!”Keith grabbed his sweaty face, violet eyes filled with unshed tears. From frustration or sadness, Lance couldn’t be sure.“Lance, listen to me, you’re going to be okay. We’re going to help you.”He didn’t want help! He wanted medicine. His entire body felt like he was on fire and all the others ever did was hold him back.Lance tried to break free from the death clutches of his friends to no avail. He tried again and again, but the more he resisted, the weaker he felt. Slowly, Lance’s legs couldn’t support his weight any longer and he collapsed into the arms of Shiro and Hunk.“Quickly! Into the pods before his heart stops!” Coran urged.He hastily typed away into the monitoring system as Shiro and Hunk carried the limp boy into the machine.By the time Lance was comfortably placed inside, he had already fallen into nothingness.

Keith and Coran were the first people that came into Lance’s vision as he stepped out of the healing pod two quintants later. He fell into Keith’s awaiting arms, weak and weary, and disoriented from the sense of gravity tugging his body.Keith settled him onto a chair carefully. He took a water bag from Coran’s hand and handed it to Lance. When he didn’t respond, Keith gingerly topped the straw between the boy’s lips. He drank slowly but greedily.Coran knelt beside him. He peered into his eyes.“How do you feel?”Lance shrugged. He leaned to the side, pressing his head against Keith’s waist.“M’sorry,” he slurred. “M’sorry.”“I’m just happy you’re awake,” Keith said. He ran shaky fingers through the boy’s brown locks, grateful for the chance to feel it silkily pass through his fingers again.Coran patted the boy’s knee. Before he could rise, Lance lurched forward. He wrapped his arms around Coran’s neck and held him tightly. Emotions welled up inside him. He returned Lance’s hug just as tight.

#nada writes #badthingshappenbingo #langst #klance #vld lance #vld keith #vld coran #tw: drug abuse #tw: overdose #long post #anonymous

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jamsque · 7 years

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Male Feminists and Milkshake Ducks

If the story was that Nick Robinson, creator of That Youtube Content About Video Games That You Like, employee of That Progressive Games Media Outlet, was being a dirtbag to women, I would be angry at him and sad about yet-a-fucking-nother story of men mistreating women with the expectation that they will suffer no negative consequences for their behaviour. That is not the story. The story is that Nick Robinson has a well-established reputation for being a dirtbag to women among a group of people that includes more than just the women he has been a dirtbag to, but until recently did not include his audience or, as far as I can tell, the people who work closely with him on a regular basis. I am of course still angry at Nick and sad about the way that so many men mistreat so many women, and just as friends of Nick have stated on twitter I think it is unacceptable that the online community around video games continues to be so bitterly hostile towards women. To be absolutely clear on that point, I have no issue with any of the people who have personally had to put up with Nick’s bullshit and have not made public accusations against him. I would certainly not volunteer to be the next Zoe Quinn or Anita Sarkeesian, and I would never ask anyone to put themselves in the way of even one tenth of a percent of the treatment that those two received. I had a very strong emotional reaction to this news, and it’s taken me a couple of days to figure out that it’s not just because I thought Car Boys was really good. It is of course disappointing to learn that a creator you respect is probably a bad person, but it is quite something else to learn that a community of people you respect have known for a while that one of their member is probably a bad person and have seemingly done nothing about it. The news didn’t even come to light because of Nick being a dirtbag to women! The whole thing blew up after a side-barb was thrown in a twitter argument about a completely separate issue. Someone who was annoyed at Nick about something else entirely decided to stick it to him by posting words to the effect of “Yeah, well, everyone knows you treat women terribly.” Of course, everyone did NOT know this, but the cat was out of the bag, and the immediate reactions to the tweet made it clear very quickly that this was not a baseless accusation. A lot of people in games media commented about the news on twitter, in ways that one might expect: condemning Nick’s actions, calling for a better attitude towards women in gaming spaces, admonishing the skeptic trolls demanding receipts for abuse. Austin Walker went off on “soft boy” culture, railing against performative vulnerability and “using softness as an alibi”. HBomberguy acknowledged that stories of Nick’s behaviour had been circulating privately for a while, and pointed to a seemingly out-of-proportion reaction to a crass joke Nick had tweeted several months previously as an indication of how many people were aware of his reputation. It is the response from Nick Robinson’s male peers in the games media space that makes the revelation of his behaviour all the more unpleasant to me. I do not disagree with any of their statements on the matter, nor would I accuse any of them individually of hypocrisy, but as a group I feel like they are absolving themselves of complicity rather than taking responsibility for a serious problem among their colleagues. They have said that it is wrong to pressure people to make private allegations into public ones, and that it is not their place to “come forward with someone else’s story if they clearly didn’t want it out there”, and they are right on both counts. The issue I have is that women did come forward to these men, and did share their stories about Nick Robinson, and the men who heard those stories engaged in exactly the sort of behaviour that they condemn in “soft boys”: they listened, they frowned, they said things like “God, what an asshole! I’ll never work with him again. Men are such scum”, they let the unsaid assumption that they would never do something like that be implied by their condemnations, they promised to keep the information secret, and they proceeded to do nothing until some side beef on social media stirred the issue to the surface. People who work in digital media lead very public lives thanks to the bizarre demands of modern social media, and so their personal disputes and dramas are often shared with an audience of tens or hundreds of thousands. In this context, and in the climate of internet vigilantism that has become prevalent since GamerGate, I understand why none of these men wanted to say anything publicly about what they knew about Nick. Perhaps from the outside I am missing some key detail but it seems fairly clear that there are things they could have done, and did not do, that might have prevented a pattern of abusive behaviour that they knew to be ongoing, without risk of becoming the person who ruined [website’s] relationship with [website]. I am assuming that these men did nothing because some of them have said as much, and because of the reaction of shock and anger from Nick’s closest colleagues. At any point during the months that these allegations were circling in private, any one of the Good Video Games Male Feminists who had been a supportive friend and good listener to a woman on the receiving end of Nick’s sleazy messages could have, for example, reached out to Matt Kessler, or Ben Pack, or Griffin McElroy, without airing any private stories or ruining any professional relationships, and told them to talk to their boy. If you hear that someone on the other side of the world who you’ve never met is a sex pest, you probably shouldn’t try to do anything about it. We have all seen enough internet hate mobs to learn that lesson. If you hear that one of your peers, someone you interact with regularly and share platforms with, someone that you have a professional association with, is a sex pest, you absolutely should try to do something about it. That is the time when just being a good ally and a good listener isn’t enough. If you are part of a peer group you have the power to influence what behaviour is and is not accepted in that peer group. Making general statements about wanting a better place for women in games will not achieve any change if the same people making those statements are content to silently ignore a man who is actively making games a worse place for women. This is the real challenge for male feminists in the 21st century. It is not enough to just be the change you want to see in the world, it is not enough to be a supportive ally. Men need to work to alter the attitudes of other men in male-dominated spaces. I absolutely believe that in this case there was an opportunity for action somewhere between the extremes of publicly airing private stories and silent condemnation, and I am deeply disappointed that none of the men I respect who are peers of Nick Robinson took such action.

#gaming #feminism #Nick Robinson #Polygon #austin walker #hbomerguy

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